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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10643 ***
+
+THE WORLD'S GREATEST BOOKS
+
+JOINT EDITORS
+
+ARTHUR MEE Editor and Founder of the Book of Knowledge
+
+J. A. HAMMERTON Editor of Harmsworth's Universal Encyclopaedia
+
+VOL. II FICTION
+
+MCMX
+
+
+
+_Table of Contents_
+
+BORROW, GEORGE
+  Lavengro
+  Romany Rye
+
+BRADDON, M.E.
+  Lady Audley's Secret
+
+BRADLEY, EDWARD ("COTHBERT BEDE")
+  Adventures of Mr. Verdant Green
+
+BRONTË, CHARLOTTE
+  Jane Eyre
+  Shirley
+  Villette
+
+BRONTË, EMILY
+  Wuthering Heights
+
+BUCHANAN, ROBERT
+  Shadow of the Sword
+
+BUNYAN, JOHN
+  Holy War
+  Pilgrim's Progress
+
+BURNEY, FANNY
+  Evelina
+
+CARLETON, WILLIAM
+  The Black Prophet
+
+CARROLL, LEWIS
+  Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
+
+CERVANTES
+  Don Quixote
+
+CHAMISSO, ADALBERT VON
+  Peter Schlemihl, the Shadowless Man
+
+CHATEAUBRIAND, FRANÇOIS RENÉ DE
+  Atala
+
+CHERBULIEZ, CHARLES VICTOR
+  Samuel Brohl & Co.
+
+COLLINS, WILKIE
+  No Name
+  The Woman in White
+
+CONWAY, HUGH
+  Called Back
+
+COOPER, FENIMORE
+  Last of the Mohicans
+  The Spy
+
+CRAIK, MRS.
+  John Halifax, Gentleman
+
+CROLY, GEORGE
+  Salathiel, or Tarry Thou Till I Come
+
+DANA, RICHARD HENRY
+  Two Years before the Mast
+
+A Complete Index of THE WORLD'S GREATEST BOOKS will be found at the end
+of Volume XX.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+GEORGE BORROW
+
+
+Lavengro
+
+      George Henry Borrow was born at East Dereham, Norfolk,
+     England, July 5, 1803. His father was an army captain, and
+     Borrow's boyhood was spent at military stations in various
+     parts of the kingdom. From his earliest youth he had a taste
+     for roving and fraternising with gipsies and other vagrants.
+     In 1819 he entered a solicitor's office at Norwich. After a
+     long spell of drudgery and literary effort, he went to London
+     in 1824, but left a year later, and for some time afterwards
+     his movements were obscure. For a period of about five years,
+     beginning 1835, he acted as the Bible Society's agent, selling
+     and distributing Bibles in Spain, and in 1842 he published
+     "The Bible in Spain." which appears in another volume of THE
+     WORLD'S GREATEST BOOKS. (See TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE.)
+     "Lavengro," written in 1851, enhanced the fame which Borrow
+     had already secured by his earlier works. The book teems with
+     character sketches drawn from real life in quarters which few
+     could penetrate, and although they are often extremely
+     eccentric, they are never grotesque, and never strike the mind
+     with a sense of merely invented unreality. Here and there
+     occur illuminating outbursts of reflection in philosophic
+     accent which reveal in startling style the working of Borrow's
+     mind. The linguistic lore is phenomenal, as in all his books.
+     But though the wild, passionate scenes make the whole
+     narrative an indescribable phantasmagoria, the diction is
+     always free from turgidity, and from involved periods. Borrow
+     died at Oulton, Suffolk, on July 26, 1881. A mighty athlete,
+     an inveterate wanderer, a philological enthusiast, and a man
+     of large-hearted simplicity mingled with violent prejudices,
+     he was one of the most original and engaging personalities of
+     nineteenth century English literature.
+
+
+_I.--The Scholar, the Gipsy, the Priest_
+
+
+On an evening of July, in the year 18--, at East D------, a beautiful
+little town in East Anglia, I first saw the light. My father, a
+Cornishman, after serving many years in the Line, at last entered as
+captain in a militia regiment. My mother, a strikingly handsome woman,
+was of the Huguenot race. I was not the only child of my parents, for I
+had a brother three years older than myself. He was a beautiful boy with
+much greater mental ability than I possessed, and he, with the greatest
+affection, indulged me in every possible way. Alas, his was an early and
+a foreign grave!
+
+I have been a wanderer the greater part of my life, being the son of a
+soldier, who, unable to afford the support of two homes, was accompanied
+by his family wherever he went. A lover of books and of retired corners,
+I was as a child in the habit of fleeing from society. The first book
+that fascinated me was one of Defoe's. But those early days were
+stirring times, for England was then engaged in the struggle with
+Napoleon.
+
+I remember strange sights, such as the scenes at Norman Cross, a station
+or prison where some six thousand French prisoners were immured. And
+vividly impressed on my memory is my intercourse with an extraordinary
+old man, a snake-catcher, who thrilled me with the recitals of his
+experiences. He declared that the vipers had a king, a terrible
+creature, which he had encountered, and from which he had managed to
+escape. After telling me that strange story of the king of the vipers,
+he gave me a viper which he had tamed, and had rendered harmless by
+extracting its fangs. I fed it with milk, and frequently carried it
+abroad with me in my walks.
+
+One day on my rambles I entered a green lane I had never seen before.
+Seeing an odd-looking low tent or booth, I advanced towards it. Beside
+it were two light carts, and near by two or three lean ponies cropped
+the grass. Suddenly the two inmates, a man and a woman, both wild and
+forbidding figures, rushed out, alarmed at my presence, and commenced
+abusing me as an intruder. They threatened to fling me into the pond
+over the hedge.
+
+I defied them to touch me, and, as I did so, made a motion well
+understood by the viper that lay hid in my bosom. The reptile instantly
+lifted its head and stared at my enemies with its glittering eyes. The
+woman, in amazed terror, retreated to the tent, and the man stood like
+one transfixed. Presently the two commenced talking to each other in
+what to me sounded like French, and next, in a conciliating tone, they
+offered me a peculiar sweetmeat, which I accepted. A peaceable
+conversation ensued, during which they cordially invited me to join
+their party and to become one of them.
+
+The interview was rudely interrupted. Hoofs were heard, and the next
+moment a man rode up and addressed words to the gipsies which produced a
+startling effect. In a few minutes, from different directions, came
+swarthy men and women. Hastily they harnessed the ponies and took down
+the tent, and packed the carts, and in a remarkably brief space of time
+the party rode off with the utmost speed.
+
+Three years passed, during which I increased considerably in stature and
+strength, and, let us hope, improved in mind. For at school I had learnt
+the whole of Lilly's "Latin Grammar"; but I was very ignorant of
+figures. Our regiment was moved to Edinburgh, where the castle was a
+garrison for soldiers. In that city I and my brother were sent to the
+high school. Here the scholars were constantly fighting, though no great
+harm was done. I had seen deaths happen through fights at school in
+England.
+
+I became a daring cragsman, a character to which an English lad can
+seldom aspire, for in England there are neither crags nor mountains. The
+Scots are expert climbers, and I was now a Scot in most things,
+particularly the language. The castle in which I dwelt stood on a craggy
+rock, to scale which was my favourite diversion.
+
+In the autumn of 1815, when the war with Napoleon was ended, we were
+ordered to Ireland, where at school I read Latin and Greek with a nice
+old clergyman, and of an evening studied French and Italian with a
+banished priest, Italian being my favourite.
+
+It was in a horse fair I came across Jasper Petulengro, a young gipsy of
+whom I had caught sight in the gipsy camp I have already alluded to. He
+was amazed to see me, and in the most effusively friendly way claimed me
+as a "pal," calling me Sapengro, or "snake-master," in allusion, he
+said, to the viper incident. He said he was also called Pharaoh, and was
+the horse-master of the camp.
+
+From this time I had frequent interviews with Jasper. He taught me much
+Romany, and introduced me to Tawno Chikno, the biggest man of the gipsy
+nation, and to Mrs. Chikno. These stood to him as parents, for his own
+were banished. I soon found that in the tents I had become acquainted
+with a most interesting people. With their language I was fascinated,
+though at first I had taken it for mere gibberish. My rapid progress
+astonished and delighted Jasper. "We'll no longer call you Sapengro,
+brother," said he, "but Lavengro, which in the language of the gorgios
+meaneth word-master." And Jasper's wife actually proposed that I should
+marry her sister.
+
+The gipsies departed for England. I was now sixteen, and continued in
+the house of my parents, passing my time chiefly in philological
+pursuits. But it was high time that I should adopt some profession. My
+father would gladly have seen me enter the Church, but feared I was too
+erratic. So I was put to the law, but while remaining a novice at that
+pursuit, I became a perfect master of the Welsh language. My father soon
+began to feel that he had made a mistake in the choice of a profession
+for me.
+
+My elder brother, who had cultivated a great taste for painting, told me
+one evening that father had given him £150 and his blessing, and that he
+was going to London to improve himself in his art.
+
+My father was taken ill with severe attacks of gout, and, in a touching
+conversation, assured me that his end was approaching. Before that sad
+event happened, my brother, whom he longed to see, arrived home. My
+father died with the name of Christ on his lips. The brave old soldier,
+during intervals between his attacks, had told me more of his life than
+I had ever learned before, and I was amazed to find how much he knew and
+had seen. He had talked with King George, and had known Wellington, and
+was the friend of Townshend, who, when Wolfe fell, led the British
+grenadiers against the shrinking regiments of Montcalm.
+
+
+_II.--An Adventure with a Publisher_
+
+
+One damp, misty March morning, I dismounted from the top of a coach in
+the yard of a London inn. Delivering my scanty baggage to a porter, I
+followed him to a lodging prepared for me by an acquaintance. It
+consisted of a small room in which I was to sit, and a smaller one still
+in which I was to sleep.
+
+Having breakfasted comfortably by a good fire, I sallied forth and
+easily found my way to the place I was in quest of, for it was scarcely
+ten minutes' walk distant. I was cordially received by the big man to
+whom some of my productions had been sent by a kind friend, and to whom
+he had given me a letter of introduction, which was respectfully read.
+But he informed me that he was selling his publishing business, and so
+could not make use of my literary help. He gave me counsel, however,
+especially advising me to write some evangelical tales, in the style of
+the "Dairyman's Daughter." As I told him I had never heard of that work,
+he said: "Then, sir, procure it by all means." Much more conversation
+ensued, during which the publisher told me that he purposed continuing
+to issue once a month his magazine, the "Oxford Review," and to this he
+proposed that I should attempt to contribute. As I was going away he
+invited me to dine with him on the ensuing Sunday.
+
+On Sunday I was punctual to my appointment with the publisher. I found
+that for twenty years he had taken no animal food and no wine. After
+some talk he requested me to compile six volumes of Newgate lives and
+trials, of a thousand pages each, the remuneration to be £50 at the
+completion of the work. I was also to make myself generally useful to
+the "Review," and, furthermore, to translate into German a book of
+philosophy which he had written. Then he dismissed me, saying that,
+though he never went to church, he spent much of every Sunday afternoon
+alone, musing on the magnificence of Nature and the moral dignity of
+man.
+
+I compiled the "Chronicles of Newgate," reviewed books for the "Review,"
+and occasionally tried my best to translate into German portions of the
+publisher's philosophy. But the "Review" did not prove a successful
+speculation, and with its decease its corps of writers broke up. I was
+paid, not in cash, but in bills, one payable at twelve, the other at
+eighteen months after date. It was a long time before I could turn these
+bills to any account. At last I found a person willing to cash them at a
+discount of only thirty per cent.
+
+By the month of October I had accomplished about two-thirds of the
+compilation of the Newgate lives, and had also made some progress with
+the German translation. But about this time I had begun to see very
+clearly that it was impossible that our connection would be of long
+duration; yet, in the event of my leaving the big man, what had I to
+offer another publisher? I returned to my labour, finished the German
+translation, got paid in the usual style, and left that employer.
+
+
+_III.--The Spirit of Stonehenge_
+
+
+One morning I discovered that my whole worldly wealth was reduced to a
+single half-crown, and throughout that day I walked about in
+considerable distress of mind. By a most singular chance I again came
+across my friend Petulengro in a fair into which I happened to wander
+when walking by the side of the river beyond London. My gipsy friend was
+seated with several men, carousing beside a small cask. He sprang up,
+greeting me cordially, and we chatted in Romany as we walked about
+together. Questioning me closely, he soon discovered that by that time I
+had only eighteen pence in my pocket.
+
+Said Jasper: "I, too, have been in the big city; but I have not been
+writing books. I have fought in the ring. I have fifty pounds in my
+pocket, and I have much more in the world. Brother, there is
+considerable difference between us." But he could not prevail on me to
+accept or to borrow money, for I said that if I could not earn, I would
+starve. "Come and stay with us," said he. "Our tents and horses are on
+the other side of yonder wooded hill. We shall all be glad of your
+company, especially myself and my wife, Pakomovna."
+
+I declined the kind invitation and walked on. Returning to the great
+city, I suddenly found myself outside the shop of a publisher to whom I
+had vainly applied some time before, in the hope of selling some of my
+writings. As I looked listlessly at the window, I observed a paper
+affixed to the glass, on which was written in a fair round hand, "A
+Novel or Tale is much wanted." I at once resolved to go to work to
+produce what was thus solicited. But what should the tale be about?
+After cogitating at my lodging, with bread and water before me, I
+concluded that I would write an entirely fictitious narrative called
+"The Life and Adventures of Joseph Sell, the Great Traveller." This
+Joseph Sell was an imaginary personage who had come into my head.
+
+I seized pen and paper, but soon gave up the task of outlining the
+story, for the scenes flitted in bewildering fashion before my
+imagination. Yet, before morning, as I lay long awake, I had sketched
+the whole work on the tablets of my mind. Next day I partook of bread
+and water, and before night had completed pages of Joseph Sell, and
+added pages in varying quantity day by day, until my enterprise was
+finished.
+
+"To-morrow for the bookseller! Oh, me!" I exclaimed, as I lay down to
+rest.
+
+On arriving at the shop, I saw to my delight that the paper was still in
+the window. As I entered, a ladylike woman of about thirty came from the
+back parlour to ask my business. After my explanation, she requested me,
+as her husband was out, to leave the MS. with her, and to call again the
+next day at eleven. At that hour I duly appeared, and was greeted with a
+cordial reception. "I think your book will do," said the bookseller.
+After some negotiation, I was paid £20 on the spot, and departed with a
+light heart. Reader, amidst life's difficulties, should you ever be
+tempted to despair, call to mind these experiences of Lavengro. There
+are few positions, however difficult, from which dogged resolution and
+perseverance will not liberate you.
+
+I had long determined to leave London, as my health had become much
+impaired. My preparations were soon made, and I set out to travel on
+foot. In about two hours I had cleared the great city, and was in a
+broad and excellent road, leading I knew not whither. In the evening,
+feeling weary, I thought of putting up at an inn, but was induced to
+take a seat in a coach, paying sixteen shillings for the fare. At dawn
+of day I was roused from a broken slumber and bidden to alight, and
+found myself close to a moorland. Walking on and on, I at length reached
+a circle of colossal stones.
+
+The spirit of Stonehenge was upon me. As I reclined under the great
+transverse stone, in the middle of the gateway of giants, I heard the
+tinkling of bells, and presently a large flock of sheep came browsing
+along, and several entered the circle. Soon a man also came up. In a
+friendly talk, the young shepherd told me that the people of the plain
+believed that thousands of men had brought the stones from Ireland, to
+make a temple in which to worship God.
+
+"But," said I, "our forefathers slaughtered the men who raised the
+stones, and left not one stone on another."
+
+"Yes, they did," said the shepherd, looking aloft at the great
+transverse stone.
+
+"And it is well that they did," answered I, "for whenever that stone,
+which English hands never raised, is by English hands thrown down, woe
+to the English race. Spare it, English. Hengist spared it."
+
+We parted, and I wandered off to Salisbury, the city of the spire. There
+I stayed two days, spending my time as best I could, and then walked
+forth for several days, during which nothing happened worthy of notice,
+but the weather was brilliant, and my health had greatly improved.
+
+Coming one day to a small countryside cottage, I saw scrawled over the
+door, "Good beer sold here." Being overcome with thirst, I went in to
+taste the beverage. Along the wall opposite where I sat in the
+well-sanded kitchen was the most disconsolate family I had ever seen,
+consisting of a tinker, his wife, a pretty-looking woman, who had
+evidently been crying, and a ragged boy and girl. I treated them to a
+large measure of beer, and in a few minutes the tinker was telling me
+his history. That conversation ended very curiously, for I purchased for
+five pounds ten shillings the man's whole equipment. It included his
+stock-in-trade, and his pony and cart. Of the landlady I purchased
+sundry provisions, and also a waggoner's frock, gave the horse a little
+feed of corn, and departed.
+
+
+_IV.--The Flaming Tinman_
+
+
+At three hours past noon I thus started to travel as a tinker. I was
+absolutely indifferent as to the direction of my journey. Coming to no
+hostelry, I pitched my little tent after nightfall in a waste land
+amongst some bushes, and kindled a fire in a convenient spot with sticks
+which I gathered. For a few days I practiced my new craft by trying to
+mend two kettles and a frying-pan, remaining in my little camp. Few folk
+passed by. But soon some exciting incidents happened. My quarters were
+one morning suddenly invaded by a young Romany girl, who advanced
+towards me, after closely scanning me, singing a gipsy song:
+
+    The Romany chi
+    And the Romany chal
+    Shall jaw tasaulor
+    To drab the bawlor,
+    And dook the gry
+    Of the farming rye.
+
+A very pretty song, thought I, falling hard to work again on my kettle;
+a very pretty song, which bodes the farmers much good. Let them look to
+their cattle.
+
+"All alone here, brother?" said a voice close to me, in sharp, but not
+disagreeable tones.
+
+A talk ensued, in which the girl discovered that I knew how to speak
+Romany, and it ended in my presenting her with the kettle.
+
+"Parraco tute--that is, I thank you, brother. The rikkeni kekaubi is now
+mine. O, rare, I thank you kindly, brother!"
+
+Presently she came towards me, stared me full in the face, saying to
+herself, "Grey, tall, and talks Romany!" In her countenance there was an
+expression I had not seen before, which struck me as being composed of
+fear, curiosity, and deepest hate. It was only momentary, and was
+succeeded by one smiling, frank, and open. "Good-bye, tall brother,"
+said she, and she departed, singing the same song.
+
+On the evening of the next day, after I had been with my pony and cart
+strolling through several villages, and had succeeded in collecting
+several kettles which I was to mend, I returned to my little camp, lit
+my fire, and ate my frugal meal. Then, after looking for some time at
+the stars, I entered my tent, lay down on my pallet, and went to sleep.
+Two more days passed without momentous incidents, but on the third
+evening the girl reappeared, bringing me two cakes, one of which she
+offered to eat herself, if I would eat the other. They were the gift to
+me of her grandmother, as a token of friendship. Incautiously I ate a
+portion to please the maiden. She eagerly watched as I did so. But I
+paid dearly indeed for my simplicity. I was in a short time seized with
+the most painful sensations, and was speedily prostrate in helpless
+agonies.
+
+While I was in this alarming condition the grandmother appeared, and
+began to taunt me with the utmost malignity. She was Mrs. Herne, "the
+hairy one," who had conceived inveterate spite against me at the time
+when Petulengro had proposed that I should marry his wife's sister. This
+poison had been administered to inflict on me the vengeance she had not
+ceased to meditate.
+
+My life was in real peril, but I was fortunately delivered by a timely
+and providential interposition. The malignant old gipsy woman and her
+granddaughter were scared as they watched my sufferings by hearing the
+sound of travellers approaching. Two wayfarers came along, one of whom
+happened to be a kind and skillful doctor. He saved my life by drastic
+remedies.
+
+The next that I heard of Mrs. Herne was, as Petulengro told me when we
+again met, that she had hanged herself, the girl finding her suspended
+from a tree. That announcement was accompanied by an unexpected
+challenge from my friend Jasper to fight him. He declared that as she
+was his relative, and I had been the cause of her destruction, there was
+no escape from the necessity of fighting. My plea that there was no
+inclination on my part for such a combat was of no avail. Accordingly we
+fought for half an hour, when suddenly Petulengro exclaimed: "Brother,
+there is much blood on your face; I think enough has been done in the
+affair of the old woman."
+
+So the struggle ended, and my Romany friend once more pressed me to join
+his tribe in their camp and in their life. I declined the offer, for I
+had resolved to practice yet another calling, the trade of a blacksmith.
+I could do so, for amongst the stock-in-trade I had purchased from the
+tinker was a small forge, with an anvil and hammers.
+
+It has always struck me that there is something poetical about a forge.
+I believe that the life of any blacksmith, especially a rural one, would
+afford material for a highly poetical treatise. But a rude stop was put
+to my dream. One morning, a brutal-looking ruffian, whom I had met
+before and recognised as a character known as the Flaming Tinman,
+appeared on the scene, accusing me with fearful oaths of trespassing on
+his ground. After volleys of abuse, he attacked me, and a fearful fight
+ensued, in which he was not the victor, for in one of his terrific
+lunges he slipped, and a blow which I was aiming happened to strike him
+behind the ear. He fell senseless. Two women were with him, one, a
+vulgar, coarse creature, his wife; the other a tall, fine young woman,
+who travelled with them for company, doing business of her own with a
+donkey and cart, selling merchandise.
+
+While I was bringing water from a spring in order to seek to revive the
+Flaming Tinman, his wife and the young woman violently quarrelled, for
+the latter took my part vehemently. When at length my enemy recovered
+sufficiently to look about him, and then to stand up, I found that his
+wife had put an open knife in his hand. But his intention could not be
+carried out, for his right hand was injured in the fight, and was for
+the time useless, as he quickly realised.
+
+The couple presently departed, cursing me and the young woman, who
+remained behind in the little camp, and, as I was in an exhausted state,
+offered to make tea by the camp fire. While we were taking the repast,
+she told me the story of her life. Her name was Isopel Berners, and
+though she believed that she had come of a good stock, she was born in a
+workhouse. When old enough, she had entered the service of a kind widow,
+who travelled with small merchandise. After the death of her mistress,
+Isopel carried on the same avocation. Being friendless, and falling in
+with the Flaming Tinman and his wife, she had associated with them, yet
+acknowledged that she had found them to be bad people.
+
+Time passed on. Isopel and I lived still in the dingle, occupying our
+separate tents. She went to and fro on her business, and I went on short
+excursions. Her company, when she happened to be in camp, was very
+entertaining, for she had wandered in all parts of England and Wales.
+For recreation, I taught her a great deal of Armenian, much of which was
+like the gipsy tongue. She had a kind heart, and was an upright
+character. She often asked me questions about America, for she had an
+idea she would like to go there. But as I had never crossed the sea to
+that country, I could only tell her what I had heard about it.
+
+       *       *       *        *        *
+
+
+
+
+The Romany Rye
+
+      In this work, published in two volumes in 1857, George Borrow
+     continued the "kind of biography in the Robinson Crusoe style"
+     which he had begun in the three volumes of "Lavengro," issued
+     six years earlier. "Romany Rye" is described as a sequel to
+     "Lavengro," and takes up that story with the author and his
+     friend Isopel Berners encamped side by side in the Mumpers'
+     Dingle, whither the gipsies, Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro and their
+     relations, shortly afterwards arrive. The book consists of a
+     succession of episodes, without plot, the sole connecting
+     thread being Borrow's personality as figuring in them. Much of
+     the "Romany Rye" was written at Oulton Broad, where, after his
+     marriage in 1840, Borrow lived until he removed to Hereford
+     Square, Brompton. At Oulton, it is worthy of record, gipsies
+     were allowed to pitch their tents, the author of "Romany Rye"
+     and "Lavengro" mingling freely with them. As a novel, the
+     "Romany Rye" is preferred by many readers to any of Borrow's
+     other works.
+
+
+_I.--The Roving Life_
+
+
+It was, as usual, a brilliant morning, the dewy blades of the rye-grass
+which covered the plain sparkled brightly in the beams of the sun, which
+had probably been about two hours above the horizon. Near the mouth of
+the dingle--Mumpers' Dingle, near Wittenhall, Staffordshire--where my
+friend Isopel Berners and I, the travelling tinker, were encamped side
+by side, a rather numerous body of my ancient friends and allies
+occupied the ground. About five yards on the right, Mr. Petulengro was
+busily employed in erecting his tent; he held in his hand an iron bar,
+sharp at the bottom, with a kind of arm projecting from the top for the
+purpose of supporting a kettle or cauldron over the fire. With the sharp
+end of this he was making holes in the earth at about twenty inches
+distance from each other, into which he inserted certain long rods with
+a considerable bend towards the top, which constituted the timbers of
+the tent and the supporters of the canvas. Mrs. Petulengro and a female
+with a crutch in her hand, whom I recognised as Mrs. Chikno, sat near
+him on the ground.
+
+"Here we are, brother," said Mr. Petulengro. "Here we are, and plenty of
+us."
+
+"I am glad to see you all," said I; "and particularly you, madam," said
+I, making a bow to Mrs. Petulengro, "and you also, madam," taking off my
+hat to Mrs. Chikno.
+
+"Good-day to you, sir," said Mrs. Petulengro. "You look as usual,
+charmingly, and speak so, too; you have not forgot your manners."
+
+"It is not all gold that glitters," said Mrs. Chikno. "However,
+good-morrow to you, young rye."
+
+"I am come on an errand," said I. "Isopel Berners, down in the dell
+there, requests the pleasure of Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro's company at
+breakfast. She will be happy also to see you, madam," said I, addressing
+Mrs. Chikno.
+
+"Is that young female your wife, young man?" said Mrs. Chikno.
+
+"My wife?" said I.
+
+"Yes, young man, your wife--your lawful certificated wife?"
+
+"No," said I. "She is not my wife."
+
+"Then I will not visit with her," said Mrs. Chikno. "I countenance
+nothing in the roving line."
+
+"What do you mean by the roving line?" I demanded.
+
+"What do I mean by the roving line? Why, by it I mean such conduct as is
+not tatcheno. When ryes and rawnies lives together in dingles, without
+being certificated, I call such behaviour being tolerably deep in the
+roving line, everything savouring of which I am determined not to
+sanctify. I have suffered too much by my own certificated husband's
+outbreaks in that line to afford anything of the kind the slightest
+shadow of countenance."
+
+"It is hard that people may not live in dingles together without being
+suspected of doing wrong," said I.
+
+"So it is," said Mrs. Petulengro, interposing. "I am suspicious of
+nobody, not even of my own husband, whom some people would think I have
+a right to be suspicious of, seeing that on his account I once refused a
+lord. I always allows him an agreeable latitude to go where he pleases.
+But I have had the advantage of keeping good company, and therefore----"
+
+"Meklis," said Mrs. Chikno, "pray drop all that, sister; I believe I
+have kept as good company as yourself; and with respect to that offer
+with which you frequently fatigue those who keeps company with you, I
+believe, after all, it was something in the roving and uncertificated
+line."
+
+
+_II.--The Parting of the Ways_
+
+
+Belle was sitting before the fire, at which the kettle was boiling.
+
+"Were you waiting for me?" I inquired.
+
+"Yes," said Belle.
+
+"That was very kind," said I.
+
+"Not half so kind," said she, "as it was of you to get everything ready
+for me in the dead of last night."
+
+After tea, we resumed our study of Armenian. "First of all, tell me,"
+said Belle, "what a verb is?"
+
+"A part of speech," said I, "which, according to the dictionary,
+signifies some action or passion. For example: I command you, or I hate
+you."
+
+"I have given you no cause to hate me," said Belle, looking me
+sorrowfully in the face.
+
+"I was merely giving two examples," said I. "In Armenian, there are four
+conjugations of verbs; the first ends in al, the second in yel, the
+third in oul, and the fourth in il. Now, have you understood me?"
+
+"I am afraid, indeed, it will all end ill," said Belle.
+
+"Let us have no unprofitable interruptions," said I. "Come, we will
+begin with the verb hntal, a verb of the first conjugation, which
+signifies rejoice. Come along. Hntam, I rejoice; hntas, thou rejoicest.
+Why don't you follow, Belle?"
+
+"I'm sure I don't rejoice, whatever you may do," said Belle.
+
+"The chief difficulty, Belle," said I, "that I find in teaching you the
+Armenian grammar proceeds from your applying to yourself and me every
+example I give."
+
+"I can't bear this much longer," said Belle.
+
+"Keep yourself quiet," said I. "We will skip hntal and proceed to the
+second conjugation. Belle, I will now select for you to conjugate the
+prettiest verb in Armenian--the verb siriel. Here is the present tense:
+siriem, siries, sirè, siriemk, sirèk, sirien. Come on, Belle, and say
+'siriem.'"
+
+Belle hesitated. "You must admit, Belle, it is much softer than hntam."
+
+"It is so," said Belle, "and to oblige you, I will say 'siriem.'"
+
+"Very well indeed, Belle," said I. "And now, to show you how verbs act
+upon pronouns, I will say 'siriem zkiez.' Please to repeat 'siriem
+zkiez.'"
+
+"'Siriem zkiez!'" said Belle. "That last word is very hard to say."
+
+"Sorry that you think so, Belle," said I. "Now please to say 'siria
+zis.'" Belle did so.
+
+"Now say 'yerani thè sirèir zis,'" said I.
+
+"'Yerani thè sirèir zis,'" said Belle.
+
+"Capital!" said I. "You have now said, 'I love you--love me--ah! would
+that you would love me!'"
+
+"And I have said all these things?"
+
+"You have said them in Armenian," said I.
+
+"I would have said them in no language that I understood; and it was
+very wrong of you to take advantage of my ignorance and make me say such
+things."
+
+"Why so?" said I. "If you said them, I said them, too."
+
+"You did so," said Belle; "but I believe you were merely bantering and
+jeering."
+
+"As I told you before, Belle," said I, "the chief difficulty which I
+find in teaching you Armenian proceeds from your persisting in applying
+to yourself and me every example I give."
+
+"Then you meant nothing, after all?" said Belle, raising her voice.
+
+"Let us proceed: sirietsi, I loved."
+
+"You never loved anyone but yourself," said Belle; "and what's more----"
+
+"Sirietsits, I will love," said I; "sirietsies, thou wilt love."
+
+"Never one so thoroughly heartless."
+
+"I tell you what, Belle--you are becoming intolerable. But we will
+change the verb. You would hardly believe, Belle," said I, "that the
+Armenian is in some respects closely connected with the Irish, but so it
+is. For example: that word parghatsoutsaniem is evidently derived from
+the same root as fear-gaim, which, in Irish, is as much as to say, 'I
+vex.'"
+
+"You do, indeed," said Belle, sobbing.
+
+"But how do you account for it?"
+
+"Oh, man, man!" cried Belle, bursting into tears, "for what purpose do
+you ask a poor ignorant girl such a question, unless it be to vex and
+irritate her? If you wish to display your learning, do so to the wise
+and instructed, and not to me, who can scarcely read or write."
+
+"I am sorry to see you take on so, dear Belle," said I. "I had no idea
+of making you cry. Come, I beg your pardon; what more can I do? Come,
+cheer up, Belle. You were talking of parting; don't let us part, but
+depart, and that together."
+
+"Our ways lie different," said Belle.
+
+"I don't see why they should," said I. "Come, let us be off to America
+together."
+
+"To America together?" said Belle.
+
+"Yes," said I; "where we will settle down in some forest, and conjugate
+the verb siriel conjugally."
+
+"Conjugally?" said Belle.
+
+"Yes; as man and wife in America."
+
+"You are jesting, as usual," said Belle.
+
+"Not I, indeed. Come, Belle, make up your mind, and let us be off to
+America."
+
+"I don't think you are jesting," said Belle; "but I can hardly entertain
+your offers; however, young man, I thank you. I will say nothing more at
+present. I must have time to consider."
+
+Next day, when I got up to go with Mr. Petulengro to the fair, on
+leaving my tent I observed Belle, entirely dressed, standing close to
+her own little encampment.
+
+"Dear me," said I. "I little expected to find you up so early."
+
+"I merely lay down in my things," said Belle; "I wished to be in
+readiness to bid you farewell when you departed."
+
+"Well, God bless you, Belle!" said I. "I shall be home to-night; by
+which time I expect you will have made up your mind."
+
+On arriving at the extremity of the plain, I looked towards the dingle.
+Isopel Berners stood at the mouth, the beams of the early morning sun
+shone full on her noble face and figure. I waved my hand towards her.
+She slowly lifted up her right arm. I turned away, and never saw Isopel
+Berners again.
+
+The fourth morning afterwards I received from her a letter in which she
+sent me a lock of her hair and told me she was just embarking for a
+distant country, never expecting to see her own again. She concluded
+with this piece of advice: "_Fear God_, and take your own part. Fear
+God, young man, and never give in! The world can bully, and is fond, if
+it sees a man in a kind of difficulty, of getting about him, calling him
+coarse names; but no sooner sees the man taking off his coat and
+offering to fight, than it scatters, and is always civil to him
+afterwards."
+
+
+_III.--Horse-Keeping and Horse-Dealing_
+
+
+After thus losing Isopel, I decided to leave the dingle, and having, by
+Mr. Petulengro's kind advice, become the possessor of a fine horse, I
+gave my pony and tinker's outfit to the gipsies, and set out on the
+road, whereupon I was to meet with strange adventures.
+
+At length, awaiting the time when I could take my horse to Horncastle
+Fair and sell him, I settled at a busy inn on the high-road, where, in
+return for board and lodging for myself and horse, I had to supervise
+the distribution of hay and corn in the stables, and to keep an account
+thereof. The old ostler, with whom I was soon on excellent terms, was a
+regular character--a Yorkshireman by birth, who had seen a great deal of
+life in the vicinity of London. He had served as ostler at a small inn
+at Hounslow, much frequented by highway men. Jerry Abershaw and Richard
+Ferguson, generally called Galloping Dick, were capital customers then,
+he told me, and he had frequently drunk with them in the corn-room. No
+man could desire jollier companions over a glass of "summut"; but on the
+road they were terrible, cursing and swearing, and thrusting the muzzles
+of their pistols into people's mouths.
+
+From the old ostler I picked up many valuable hints about horses.
+
+"When you are a gentleman," said he, "should you ever wish to take a
+journey on a horse of your own, follow my advice. Before you start,
+merely give your horse a couple of handfuls of corn, and a little
+water--somewhat under a quart. Then you may walk and trot for about ten
+miles till you come to some nice inn, where you see your horse led into
+a nice stall, telling the ostler not to feed him till you come. If the
+ostler happens to have a dog, say what a nice one it is; if he hasn't,
+ask him how he's getting on, and whether he ever knew worse times; when
+your back's turned, he'll say what a nice gentleman you are, and how he
+thinks he has seen you before.
+
+"Then go and sit down to breakfast, and before you have finished, get up
+and go and give your horse a feed of corn; chat with the ostler two or
+three minutes till your horse has taken the shine out of his corn, which
+will prevent the ostler taking any of it away when your back's turned.
+Then go and finish your breakfast, and when you have finished your
+breakfast, when you have called for the newspaper, go and water your
+horse, letting him have about one pailful; then give him another feed of
+corn, and enter into discourse with the ostler about bull-baiting, the
+prime minister, and the like; and when your horse has once more taken
+the shine out of his corn, go back to your room and your newspaper. Then
+pull the bell-rope and order in your bill, which you will pay without
+counting it up--supposing you to be a gentleman. Give the waiter
+sixpence, and order out your horse, and when your horse is out, pay for
+the corn, and give the ostler a shilling, then mount your horse and walk
+him gently for five miles.
+
+"See to your horse at night, and have him well rubbed down. Next day,
+you may ride your horse forty miles just as you please, and those will
+bring you to your journey's end, unless it's a plaguey long one. If so,
+never ride your horse more than five-and-thirty miles a day, always
+seeing him well fed, and taking more care of him than yourself, seeing
+as how he is the best animal of the two."
+
+The stage-coachmen of that time--low fellows, but masters of driving--
+were made so much fuss of by sprigs of nobility and others that their
+brutality and rapacious insolence had reached a climax. One, who
+frequented our inn, and who was called the "bang-up coachman," was a
+swaggering bully, who not only lashed his horses unmercifully, but in
+one or two instances had beaten in a barbarous manner individuals who
+had quarrelled with him. One day an inoffensive old fellow of sixty, who
+refused him a tip for his insolence, was lighting his pipe, when the
+coachman struck it out of his mouth.
+
+The elderly individual, without manifesting much surprise, said: "I
+thank you; and if you will wait a minute I'll give you a receipt for
+that favour." Then, gathering up his pipe, and taking off his coat and
+hat, he advanced towards the coachman, holding his hands crossed very
+near his face.
+
+The coachman, who expected anything but such a movement, pointed at him
+derisively with his finger. The next moment, however, the other had
+struck aside the hand with his left fist, and given him a severe blow on
+the nose with his right, which he immediately followed by a left-hand
+blow in the eye. The coachman endeavoured to close, but his foe was not
+to be closed with; he did not shift or dodge about, but warded off the
+blows of his opponent with the greatest _sangfroid_, always using the
+same guard, and putting in short, chopping blows with the quickness of
+lightning. In a very few minutes the coachman was literally cut to
+pieces. He did not appear on the box again for a week, and never held up
+his head afterwards.
+
+Reaching Horncastle at last, I managed to get quarters for myself and
+horse, and, by making friends with the ostlers and others, picked up
+more hints.
+
+"There a'n't a better horse in the fair," said one companion to me, "and
+as you are one of us, and appear to be all right, I'll give you a piece
+of advice--don't take less than a hundred and fifty for him."
+
+"Well," said I, "thank you for your advice; and, if successful, I will
+give you 'summut' handsome."
+
+"Thank you," said the ostler; "and now let me ask whether you are up to
+all the ways of this here place?"
+
+"I've never been here before," said I.
+
+Thereupon he gave me half a dozen cautions, one of which was not to stop
+and listen to what any chance customer might have to say; and another,
+by no manner of means to permit a Yorkshireman to get up into the
+saddle. "For," said he, "if you do, it is three to one that he rides off
+with the horse; he can't help it. Trust a cat amongst cream, but never
+trust a Yorkshireman on the saddle of a good horse."
+
+"A fine horse! A capital horse!" said several of the connoisseurs. "What
+do you ask for him?"
+
+"A hundred and fifty pounds," said I.
+
+"Why, I thought you would have asked double that amount! You do yourself
+injustice, young man."
+
+"Perhaps I do," said I; "but that's my affair. I do not choose to take
+more."
+
+"I wish you would let me get into the saddle," said the man. "The horse
+knows you, and therefore shows to more advantage; but I should like to
+see how he would move under me, who am a stranger. Will you let me get
+into the saddle, young man?"
+
+"No," said I.
+
+"Why not?" said the man.
+
+"Lest you should be a Yorkshireman," said I, "and should run away with
+the horse."
+
+"Yorkshire?" said the man. "I am from Suffolk--silly Suffolk--so you
+need not be afraid of my running away with him."
+
+"Oh, if that's the case," said I, "I should be afraid that the horse
+would run away with you!"
+
+Threading my way as well as I could through the press, I returned to the
+yard of the inn, where, dismounting, I stood still, holding the horse by
+the bridle. A jockey, who had already bargained with me, entered,
+accompanied by another individual.
+
+"Here is my lord come to look at the horse, young man," said the jockey.
+My lord was a tall figure of about five-and-thirty. He had on his head a
+hat somewhat rusty, and on his back a surtout of blue rather worse for
+wear. His forehead, if not high, was exceedingly narrow; his eyes were
+brown, with a rat-like glare in them. He had scarcely glanced at the
+horse when, drawing in his cheeks, he thrust out his lips like a baboon
+to a piece of sugar.
+
+"Is this horse yours?" said he.
+
+"It's my horse," said I. "Are you the person who wishes to make an
+honest penny by it?" alluding to a phrase of the jockey's.
+
+"How?" said he, drawing up his head with a very consequential look, and
+speaking with a very haughty tone. "What do you mean?" We looked at each
+other full in the face. "My agent here informs me that you ask one
+hundred and fifty pounds, which I cannot think of giving. The horse is a
+showy horse. But look, my dear sir, he has a defect here, and in his
+near foreleg I observe something which looks very much like a splint!
+Yes, upon my credit, he has a splint, or something which will end in
+one! A hundred and fifty pounds, sir! What could have induced you to ask
+anything like that for this animal? I protest--Who are you, sir? I am in
+treaty for this horse," said he, turning to a man who had come up whilst
+he was talking, and was now looking into the horse's mouth.
+
+"Who am I?" said the man, still looking into the horse's mouth. "Who am
+I? his lordship asks me. Ah, I see, close on five," said he, releasing
+the horse's jaws.
+
+Close beside him stood a tall youth in a handsome riding dress, and
+wearing a singular green hat with a high peak.
+
+"What do you ask for him?" said the man.
+
+"A hundred and fifty," said I.
+
+"I shouldn't mind giving it to you," said he.
+
+"You will do no such thing," said his lordship. "Sir," said he to me, "I
+must give you what you ask."
+
+"No," said I; "had you come forward in a manly and gentlemanly manner to
+purchase the horse I should have been happy to sell him to you; but
+after all the fault you have found with him I would not sell him to you
+at any price."
+
+His lordship, after a contemptuous look at me and a scowl at the jockey,
+stalked out.
+
+"And now," said the other, "I suppose I may consider myself as the
+purchaser of this here animal for this young gentleman?"
+
+"By no means," said I. "I am utterly unacquainted with either of you."
+
+"Oh, I have plenty of vouchers for my respectability!" said he. And,
+thrusting his hand into his bosom, he drew out a bundle of notes. "These
+are the kind of things which vouch best for a man's respectability."
+
+"Not always," said I; "sometimes these kind of things need vouchers for
+themselves." The man looked at me with a peculiar look. "Do you mean to
+say that these notes are not sufficient notes?" said he; "because, if
+you do, I shall take the liberty of thinking that you are not over
+civil; and when I thinks a person is not over and above civil I
+sometimes takes off my coat; and when my coat is off----"
+
+"You sometimes knock people down," I added. "Well, whether you knock me
+down or not, I beg leave to tell you that I am a stranger in this fair,
+and shall part with the horse to nobody who has no better guarantee for
+his respectability than a roll of bank-notes, which may be good or not
+for what I know, who am not a judge of such things."
+
+"Oh, if you are a stranger here," said the man, "you are quite right to
+be cautious, queer things being done in this fair. But I suppose if the
+landlord of the house vouches for me and my notes you will have no
+objection to part with the horse to me?"
+
+"None whatever," said I.
+
+Thereupon I delivered the horse to my friend the ostler. The landlord
+informed me that my new acquaintance was a respectable horse-dealer and
+an intimate friend of his, whereupon the purchase was soon brought to a
+satisfactory conclusion.
+
+
+_IV.--A Recruiting Sergeant_
+
+
+Leaving Horncastle the next day, I bent my steps eastward, and on the
+following day I reached a large town situated on a river. At the end of
+the town I was accosted by a fiery-faced individual dressed as a
+recruiting sergeant.
+
+"Young man, you are just the kind of person to serve the Honourable East
+India Company."
+
+"I had rather the Honourable Company should serve me," said I.
+
+"Of course, young man. Take this shilling; 'tis service money. The
+Honourable Company engages to serve you, and you the Honourable
+Company."
+
+"And what must I do for the Company?"
+
+"Only go to India--the finest country in the world. Rivers bigger than
+the Ouse. Hills higher than anything near Spalding. Trees--you never saw
+such trees! Fruits--you never saw such fruits!"
+
+"And the people--what kind are they?"
+
+"Pah! Kauloes--blacks--a set of rascals! And they calls us lolloes,
+which, in their beastly gibberish, means reds. Why do you stare so?"
+
+"Why," said I, "this is the very language of Mr. Petulengro."
+
+"I say, young fellow, I don't like your way of speaking; you are mad,
+sir. You won't do for the Honourable Company. Good-day to you!"
+
+"I shouldn't wonder," said I, as I proceeded rapidly eastward, "if Mr.
+Petulengro came from India. I think I'll go there."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+M. E. BRADDON
+
+
+Lady Audley's Secret
+
+      Mary Elizabeth Maxwell, youngest daughter of Henry Braddon,
+     solicitor, and widow of John Maxwell, publisher, was born in
+     London in 1837. Early in life she had literary aspirations,
+     and, as a girl of twenty-three, wrote her first novel, "The
+     Trail of the Serpent," which first appeared in serial form.
+     "Lady Audley's Secret" was published in 1862, and Miss Braddon
+     immediately sprang into fame as an authoress, combining a
+     graphic style with keen analysis of character, and exceptional
+     ingenuity in the construction of a plot of tantalising
+     complexities and DRAMATIC _DÉNOUEMENT_. The book passed
+     through many editions, and there was an immediate demand for
+     other stories by the gifted authoress. That demand was met
+     with an industry and resource rarely equalled. Every year
+     since, Miss Braddon, who throughout retained her maiden as her
+     pen-name, furnished the reading public with one, and for a
+     long period two romances of absorbing interest.
+
+
+_I.--The Second Lady Audley_
+
+
+SIR MICHAEL AUDLEY was fifty-six years of age, and had married a second
+wife nine months before. For seventeen years he had been a widower with
+an only child--Alicia, now eighteen. Lady Audley had come into the
+neighbourhood from London, in response to an advertisement in the
+"Times," as a governess in the family of Mr. Dawson, the village
+surgeon. Her accomplishments were brilliant and numerous. Everyone, high
+and low, loved, admired, and praised her, and united in declaring that
+Lucy Graham was the sweetest girl that ever lived. Sir Michael Audley
+expressed a strong desire to be acquainted with her. A meeting was
+arranged at the surgeon's house, and that day Sir Michael's fate was
+sealed. One misty June evening Sir Michael, sitting opposite Lucy Graham
+at the window of the surgeon's little drawing-room, spoke to her on the
+subject nearest his heart.
+
+"I scarcely think," he said, "there is a greater sin, Lucy, than that of
+a woman who marries a man she does not love. You are so precious to me
+that, deeply as my heart is set on this, and bitter as the mere thought
+of disappointment is to me, I would not have you commit such a sin for
+any happiness of mine. Nothing but misery can result from a marriage
+dictated by any motive but truth and love."
+
+Lucy for some moments was quite silent. Then, turning to him with a
+sudden passion in her manner that lighted up her face with a new and
+wonderful beauty, she fell on her knees at his feet. Clutching at a
+black ribbon about her throat, she exclaimed:
+
+"How good, how noble, how generous you are! But you ask too much of me.
+Only remember what my life has been! From babyhood I have never seen
+anything but poverty. My father was a gentleman, but poor; my mother--
+but don't let me speak of her. You can never guess what is endured by
+genteel paupers. I cannot be disinterested; I cannot be blind to the
+advantages of such a marriage. I do not dislike you--no, no; and I do
+not love anyone in the world," she added, with a laugh, when asked if
+there was anyone else.
+
+Sir Michael was silent for a few moments, and then, with a kind of
+effort, said: "Well, Lucy, I will not ask too much of you; but I see no
+reason why we should not make a very happy couple."
+
+When Lucy went to her own room she sat down on the edge of the bed, and
+murmured: "No more dependence, no more drudgery, no more humiliations!
+Every trace of the old life melted away, every clue to identity buried
+and forgotten except this"--and she drew from her bosom a black ribbon
+and locket, and the object attached to it. It was a ring wrapped in an
+oblong piece of crumpled paper, partly written and partly printed.
+
+
+_II.--The Return of the Gold-Seeker_
+
+
+A tall, powerfully-built young man of twenty-five, his face bronzed by
+exposure, brown eyes, bushy black beard, moustache, and hair, was pacing
+impatiently the deck of the Australian liner Argus, bound from Melbourne
+to Liverpool. His name was George Talboys. He was joined in his
+promenade by a shipboard-friend, who had been attracted by the feverish
+ardour and freshness of the young man, and was made the confidant of his
+story.
+
+"Do you know, Miss Morley," he said, "that I left my little girl asleep,
+with her baby in her arms, and with nothing but a few blotted lines to
+tell her why her adoring husband had deserted her."
+
+"Deserted her!" cried Miss Morley.
+
+"Yes. I was a cornet in a cavalry regiment when I first met my darling.
+We were quartered in a stupid seaport town, where my pet lived with her
+shabby old father--a half-pay naval man. It was a case of love at first
+sight on both sides, and my darling and I made a match of it. My father
+is a rich man, but no sooner did he hear that I was married to a
+penniless girl than he wrote a furious letter telling me that he would
+never again hold any communication with me, and that my yearly allowance
+was stopped.
+
+"I sold out my commission, thinking that before the money I got for it
+was exhausted I should be sure to drop into something. I took my darling
+to Italy, lived in splendid style, and then, when there was nothing left
+but a couple of hundred pounds, we came back to England and boarded with
+my wretched father-in-law, who fleeced us finely. I went to London and
+tried in vain to get employment; and on my return, my little girl burst
+into a storm of lamentations, blaming me for the cruel wrong of marrying
+her if I could give her nothing but poverty and misery. Her tears and
+reproaches drove me almost mad. I ran out of the house, rushed down to
+the pier, intending, after dark, to drop quietly into the water and end
+all.
+
+"While I sat smoking two men came along, and began to talk of the
+Australian gold-diggings and the great fortunes that were to be made
+there in a short time. I got into conversation with them, and learned
+that a ship sailed from Liverpool for Melbourne in three days. The
+thought flashed on me that that was better than the water. I returned
+home, crept upstairs, and wrote a few hurried lines which told her that
+I never loved her better than now when I seemed to desert her; that I
+was going to try my fortune in a new world; that if I succeeded I should
+come back to bring her plenty and happiness, but if I failed I should
+never look upon her face again. I kissed her hand and the baby once, and
+slipped out of the room. Three nights after I was out at sea, bound for
+Melbourne, a steerage passenger with a digger's tools for my baggage,
+and seven shillings in my pocket. After three and a half years of hard
+and bitter struggles on the goldfields, at last I struck it rich,
+realised twenty thousand pounds, and a fortnight later I took my passage
+for England. All this time I had never communicated with my wife, but
+the moment fortune came, I wrote, telling her I should be in England
+almost as soon as my letter, and giving her an address at a coffee-house
+in London."
+
+That same evening Phoebe Marks, maid to Lady Audley, invited her cousin
+and sweetheart, Luke Marks, a farm labourer with ambitions to own a
+public-house, to survey the wonders of Audley Court, including my lady's
+private apartments and her jewel-box. During the inspection, by
+accident, a knob in the framework of the jewel-box was pushed, and a
+secret drawer sprang out There were neither gold nor gems in it. Only a
+baby's little worsted shoe, rolled in a piece of paper, and a tiny lock
+of silky yellow hair, evidently taken from a baby's head. Phoebe's eyes
+dilated as she examined the little packet.
+
+"So this is what my lady hides in the secret drawer," she said, putting
+the little packet in her pocket.
+
+"Why, Phoebe, you're never going to be such a fool as to take that?"
+cried Luke.
+
+"I'd rather have this than the diamond bracelet you would have liked to
+take," she said, her lips curving into a curious smile. "You shall have
+the public-house, Luke."
+
+
+_III.--Robert Audley Comes on the Scene_
+
+
+Robert Audley was supposed to be a barrister, and had chambers in Fig
+Tree Court, Temple. He was a handsome, lazy, care-for-nothing fellow of
+seven-and-twenty, the only son of the younger brother of Sir Michael
+Audley, who had left him a moderate competency.
+
+One morning, Robert Audley strolled out of the Temple, Blackfriarswards.
+At the corner of a court in St. Paul's Churchyard he was almost knocked
+down by a man of his own age dashing headlong into the narrow opening.
+Robert remonstrated; the stranger stopped suddenly, looked very hard at
+the speaker, and cried, in a tone of intense astonishment:
+
+"Bob! I only touched British ground after dark last night, and to think
+I should meet you this morning!"
+
+George Talboys, for the stranger was the late passenger on board the
+Argus, had been from boyhood the inseparable chum of Robert Audley. The
+tale of Talboys' marriage, his expedition to Australia, and his return
+with a fortune, was briefly told. The pair took a hansom to the
+Westminster coffee-house where Talboys had written to his wife to
+forward letters. There was no letter, and the young man showed very
+bitter disappointment. By and by George mechanically picked up a "Times"
+newspaper of a day or two before, and stared vacantly at the first page.
+He turned a sickly colour, and pointed to a line which ran: "On the 24th
+inst., at Ventnor-Isle of Wight, Helen Talboys, aged 22." He knew no
+more until he opened his eyes in a room in his friend's chambers in the
+Temple.
+
+Next day he and Robert Audley journeyed by express to Ventnor, learned
+on inquiry at the principal hotel that a Captain Maldon, whose daughter
+was lately dead, was staying at Lansdowne Cottage; and thither they
+proceeded. The captain and his little grandson, Georgey, were out.
+
+George Talboys and his friend visited the churchyard where his wife was
+buried, commissioned a mason to erect a headstone on the grave, and then
+went to the beach to seek Captain Maldon and the little boy.
+
+The captain, when he saw his son-in-law, coloured violently with
+something of a frightened look. He told Talboys that only a few months
+after his departure he and Helen came to live at Southampton, where she
+had obtained a few pupils for the piano; but her health failed, and she
+fell into a decline, of which she died. Broken-hearted, Talboys started
+for Liverpool to take ship for Australia, but failed to catch the
+steamer; returned to London, and accompanied Robert Audley on a long
+visit to Russia.
+
+A year passed, and Robert proposed to take his friend to Audley Court,
+but had a letter from his cousin Alicia, saying that her stepmother had
+taken into her head that she was too ill to entertain, though in reality
+there was nothing the matter with her.
+
+"My lady's airs and graces shan't keep us out of Essex, for all that,"
+said Robert Audley. "We will go to a comfortable old inn in the village
+of Audley."
+
+Thither they went; but Lady Audley, who had casually seen him, although
+he was unaware of it, continued on one excuse or another to avoid
+meeting George Talboys. The two young men strolled up to the Court in
+the absence of Sir Michael and Lady Audley, where they met Alicia
+Audley, who showed them the lime walk and the old well.
+
+Robert was anxious to see the portrait of his new aunt; but Lady
+Audley's picture was in her private apartments, the door of which was
+locked. Alicia remembered there was, unknown to Lady Audley, access to
+these by means of a secret passage. In a spirit of fun the young men
+explored the passage and reached the portrait. George Talboys sat before
+it without uttering a word, only staring blankly.
+
+"We managed it capitally; but I don't like the portrait," said Robert,
+when they had crept back. "There is something odd about it."
+
+"There is," answered Alicia. "We never have seen my lady look as she
+does in that picture; but I think she could look so."
+
+Next day Talboys and Robert went fishing. George pretended to fish;
+Robert slept on the river-bank. The servants were at dinner at the
+Court; Alicia had gone riding. Lady Audley sauntered out, book in hand,
+to the shady lime walk. George Talboys came up to the hall, rang the
+bell, was told that her ladyship was walking in the lime avenue. He
+looked disappointed at the intelligence, and walked away. A full hour
+and a half later, Lady Audley returned to the house, not coming from the
+lime avenue, but from the opposite direction. In her own room she
+confronted her maid, Phoebe. The eyes of the two women met.
+
+"Phoebe Marks," said my lady presently, "you are a good girl; and while
+I live and am prosperous, you shall not want a firm friend and a
+twenty-pound note."
+
+
+_IV.--The Search and the Counter Check_
+
+
+Robert Audley awoke from his nap to find George Talboys gone. He
+searched in the grounds and in the inn for him in vain. At the
+railway-station he heard that a man who, from the description given,
+might be Talboys, had gone by the afternoon train to London. In the
+evening he went up to the Court to dinner. Lady Audley was gay and
+fascinating; but gave a little nervous shudder when Robert, feeling
+uneasy about his friend, said so.
+
+Again, when Lady Audley was at the piano he observed a bruise on her
+arm. She said that it was caused by tying a piece of ribbon too tightly
+round her arm two or three days before. But Robert saw that the bruise
+was recent, and that it had been made by the four fingers, one of which
+had a ring, of a powerful hand.
+
+Suspicion began to be aroused in the mind of Robert Audley, first as to
+the real identity of Lady Audley; and second, as to the fate of his
+friend. He brought into play all the keenness of his intellect, and
+abandoned his lazy habits. He went to Southampton, saw Captain Maldon,
+who told him that George Talboys had arrived the morning before at one
+o'clock to have a look at his boy before sailing for Australia. On
+inquiry at Liverpool, this proved to be false.
+
+He sought the assistance of George's father, Squire Talboys, at Grange
+Heath, Dorsetshire, to discover the murderer; but the squire resolutely
+refused to accept that his son was dead. He was only hiding, hoping for
+forgiveness, which would never be given.
+
+The beautiful sister of George Talboys followed Robert when he left the
+mansion and besought him passionately to avenge her brother's murder, in
+which she implicitly believed, and this he promised to do.
+
+Then he learned that Phoebe, Lady Audley's maid, had married her cousin
+Luke Marks, who, under veiled threats, had obtained one hundred pounds
+from her ladyship to enable him to lease the Castle Inn. And having
+visited the place, and held conversation with the half-drunken landlord,
+he felt assured that Luke Marks and his wife had by some means obtained
+a sinister power over Lady Audley.
+
+Robert thereafter traced the life history of Helen Maldon from her
+marriage to George Talboys at Wildernsea, Yorkshire, her secret
+departure from there after her husband's desertion, her appearance the
+following day as a teacher in a girl's school at Brompton under the name
+of Lucy Graham; her arrival as a governess in Essex, and finally her
+marriage to Sir Michael Audley.
+
+Once more he returned to the Court, where his uncle was lying ill,
+attended by Lady Audley. He demanded a private audience of my lady, at
+which he told her he had discovered the whole of the conspiracy
+concocted by an artful woman who had speculated upon the chance of her
+husband's death, and had secured a splendid position at the risk of
+committing a crime.
+
+"My friend, George Talboys," said Robert, "was last seen entering these
+gardens, and was never seen to leave them. I will have such a search
+made as shall level that house to the earth, and root up every tree
+rather than I will fail in finding the grave of my murdered friend."
+
+"You shall never live to do this," she said. "I will kill you first!"
+
+That evening Lady Audley gave to her husband a gloss of what his nephew
+had said, and boldly accused him of being mad. "You would," she said,
+"never let anyone influence you against me, would you, darling?"
+
+"No, my love; they had better not try it."
+
+Lady Audley laughed aloud, with a gay, triumphant peal as she tripped
+out of the room; but as she sat in her own chamber, brooding, she
+muttered: "Dare I defy him? Will anything stop him but--death?"
+
+Just then Phoebe Marks arrived to warn Lady Audley that Robert had
+appeared at the Castle Inn. She also explained that a bailiff was in the
+house, as the rent was due, and she wanted money to pay him out. Lady
+Audley, insisted to Phoebe's astonishment, that she herself would bring
+the money. She did so; and, unknown to Phoebe, cunningly set fire to the
+inn, hoping that Robert Audley would meet his death. She and her maid
+then left the inn to make the long tramp back to the Court. Half the
+distance had been covered, when Phoebe looked back and saw a red glare
+in the sky. She stopped, suddenly fell on her knees, and cried: "Oh, my
+God! Say it's not true! It's too horrible!"
+
+"What's too horrible?" said Lady Audley.
+
+"The thought that is in my mind."
+
+"I will tell you nothing except that you are a mad woman; and go home."
+Lady Audley walked away in the darkness.
+
+
+_V.--My Lady Tells the Truth_
+
+
+Lady Audley next day was under the dominion of a terrible restlessness.
+Towards the dinner hour she walked in the quadrangle. In the dusk she
+lost all self-control when a figure approached. Her knees sank under her
+and she dropped to the ground. It was Robert Audley who helped her to
+rise and then led her into the library. In a pitiless voice he called
+her the incendiary of the fire at the inn. Fortunately, he had changed
+his room, and escaped being burnt to death, saving, at the same time,
+Luke Marks. The day was now past, he insisted, for mercy, after last
+night's deed of horror; and she should no longer pollute the Court with
+her presence.
+
+"Bring Sir Michael," she cried, "and I will confess everything!"
+
+And so the confession was made. Briefly stated, it was that as a little
+child, in a Hampshire coast village, when she asked where her mother
+was, the answer always was that that was a secret. In a fit of passion
+the foster-mother told her that her own mother was a madwoman in an
+asylum many miles away. Afterwards, she learned that the madness was a
+hereditary disease, and she was instructed to keep the secret because it
+might affect her injuriously in after life. Then she detailed the story
+of her life until her marriage with Sir Michael Audley, justifying that
+on the ground that she had a right to believe her first husband was
+dead. In the sunshine of love at Audley Court she felt, for the first
+time in her life, the miseries of others, and took pleasure in acts of
+kindness.
+
+In an Essex paper she read of the return of her first husband to
+England. Knowing his character, she thought that unless he could be
+induced to believe she was dead, he would never abandon his search for
+her. Again she became mad. In collusion with her father she induced a
+Mrs. Plowson in Southampton, who had a daughter in the last stage of
+consumption, to pass off that daughter as Mrs. George Talboys, and
+removed her to Ventnor, Isle of Wight, with her own little boy schooled
+to call her "mamma." There she died in a fortnight, was buried as Mrs.
+George Talboys, and the advertisement of the death was inserted in the
+"Times" two days before her husband's arrival in England.
+
+Sir Michael could hear no more. He and his daughter Alicia departed that
+evening for the Continent. Next day, Dr. Mosgrave, a mental specialist,
+arrived from London. He was fully informed of the history of Lady
+Audley, examined her, and finally reported to Robert: "The lady is not
+mad, but she has a hereditary taint in her blood. She has the cunning of
+madness, with the prudence of intelligence. She is dangerous." He gave
+Robert a letter addressed to Monsieur Val, Villebrumeuse, Belgium, who,
+he said, was the proprietor and medical superintendent of an excellent
+_maison de santé_, and would, no doubt, willingly receive Lady Audley
+into his establishment, and charge himself with the full responsibility
+of her future life.
+
+Robert escorted Lady Audley to Villebrumeuse, where she was presented to
+Monsieur Val as Madame Taylor. When Monsieur Val retired from the
+reception room, at my lady's request, she turned to Robert, and said:
+"You have brought me to a living grave; you have used your power basely
+and cruelly."
+
+"I have done that which I thought was just to others, and merciful to
+you," replied Robert. "Live here and repent."
+
+"I cannot," cried my lady. "I would defy you and kill myself if I dared.
+Do you know what I am thinking of? It is of the day upon which George
+Talboys--disappeared! The body of George Talboys lies at the bottom of
+the old well in the shrubbery beyond the lime walk. He came to me there,
+goaded me beyond endurance, and I called him a madman and a liar. I was
+going to leave him when he seized me by the wrist and sought to detain
+me by force. You yourself saw the bruises. I became mad, and drew the
+loose iron spindle from the shrunken wood of the windlass. My first
+husband sank with one horrible cry into the black mouth of the well!"
+
+
+_VI.--The Mystery Cleared Up_
+
+
+On arrival in London, Robert Audley received a letter from Clara Talboys
+saying that Luke Marks, the man whom he had saved in the fire at the
+Castle Inn, was lying at his mother's cottage at Audley, and expressed a
+very earnest wish to see him. Robert took train at once to Audley.
+
+The dying man confessed that on the night of George Talboys's
+disappearance, when going home to his mother's cottage, he heard groans
+come from the laurel bushes in the shrubbery near the old well. On
+search, he found Talboys covered with slime, and with a broken arm. He
+carried the crippled man to his mother's cottage, washed, fed, and
+nursed him.
+
+Next day Talboys gave him a five-pound note to accompany him to the town
+of Brentwood, where he called on a surgeon to have his broken arm set
+and dressed. That done, Talboys wrote two notes in pencil with his left
+hand, and gave them to Luke to deliver--one with a cross to be handed to
+Lady Audley, and the other to the nephew of Sir Michael, and then took
+train to London in a second-class carriage.
+
+Phoebe, who had seen from her window Lady Audley pushing George Talboys
+into the well, said that my lady was in their power, and that she would
+do anything for them to keep her secret. So the letters were not
+delivered.
+
+He hid them away; not a creature had seen them. The old mother, who had
+been present throughout the confession, took the papers from a drawer
+and handed them to Robert Audley.
+
+The note to Robert said that something had happened to the writer, he
+could not tell what, which drove him from England, a broken-hearted man,
+to seek some corner of the earth where he might live and die unknown and
+forgotten. He left his son in his friend's hands, knowing that he could
+leave him to no truer guardian. The second note was addressed "Helen,"
+saying, "May God pity and forgive you for that which you have done
+to-day, as truly as I do. Rest in peace. You shall never hear from me
+again. I leave England, never to return.--G. T."
+
+Luke Marks died that afternoon. Robert Audley wrote a long letter the
+same evening, addressed to Madame Taylor, in which he told the story
+related by Marks; and as soon as possible he went down to Dorsetshire to
+inform George Talboys's father that his son was alive. He stayed five
+weeks at Grange Heath, and the love which had come to him at first sight
+of Clara Talboys rapidly ripened.
+
+Consent to the marriage was given, with a blessing by the old
+Roman-minded squire, and the pair agreed to go on their honeymoon trip
+to Australia to look for the son and brother. Robert returned for the
+last time to his bachelor chambers in the Temple. He was told that a
+visitor was waiting for him. The visitor was George Talboys, and he
+opened his arms to his lost friend with a cry of delight and surprise.
+The tale was soon told. When George fell into the well he was stunned
+and bruised, and his arm broken. After infinite pains and difficulties
+he climbed to the top and hid in a clump of laurel bushes till the
+arrival of Luke Marks. He had not been to Australia after all, but had
+exchanged his berth on board the Victoria Regia for another in a ship
+bound for New York. There he remained for a time till he yearned for the
+strong clasp of the hand which guided him through the darkest passage of
+his life.
+
+Two years passed. In a fairy cottage on the banks of the Thames, between
+Teddington Lock and Hampton Bridge, George Talboys lives with his sister
+and brother-in-law, the latter having now obtained success at the Bar.
+Georgey pays occasional visits from Eton to play with a pretty baby
+cousin. It is a year since a black-edged letter came to Robert Audley,
+announcing that Madame Taylor had died after a long illness, which
+Monsieur Val described as _maladie de longueur_. Sir Michael Audley
+lives in London with Alicia, who is very shortly to become the wife of
+Sir Harry Towers, a sporting Herts baronet.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+EDWARD BRADLEY ("CUTHBERT BEDE")
+
+
+The Adventures of Mr. Verdant Green
+
+      Edward Bradley is one of few English humorists of the
+     mid-Victorian era who produced any work that is likely to
+     survive the wear of time and change of taste. "The Adventures
+     of Mr. Verdant Green," his earliest and best story, is, in its
+     way, a masterpiece. Never has the lighter and gayer side of
+     Oxford life been depicted with so much humour and fidelity;
+     and what makes this achievement still more remarkable is the
+     fact that Cuthbert Bede (to give Bradley the name which he
+     adopted for literary purposes and made famous) was not an
+     Oxford man. He was born at Kidderminster in 1827, and educated
+     at Durham University, with the idea of becoming a clergyman.
+     But not being old enough to take orders, he stayed for a year
+     at Oxford, without, however, matriculating there. At the age
+     of twenty he began to write for "Punch," and "The Adventures
+     of Verdant Green" was composed in 1853, when he was still on
+     the staff of that paper. The book, on its publication, had an
+     immense vogue, and though twenty-six other books followed from
+     his pen, it is still the most popular. He died on December 11,
+     1889.
+
+
+_I.--A Very Quiet Party_
+
+
+As Mr. Verdant Green was sitting, sad and lonely, in his rooms
+overlooking the picturesque, mediaeval quadrangle of Brazenface College,
+Oxford, a German band began to play "Home, Sweet Home," with that truth
+and delicacy of expression which the wandering minstrels of Germany seem
+to acquire intuitively. The sweet melancholy of the air, as it came
+subdued into softer tones by distance, would probably have moved any lad
+who had just been torn from the shelter of his family to fight, all
+inexperienced, the battle of life. On Mr. Verdant Green it had such an
+overwhelming effect that when his scout, Filcher, entered the room he
+found his master looking very red about the eyes, and furiously wiping
+the large spectacles from which his nick-name, "Gig-lamps," was derived.
+
+The fact was that Mr. Verdant Green was a freshman of the freshest kind.
+It was his first day in Oxford. He had been brought up entirely by his
+mother and a maiden aunt. Happily, Mr. Larkyns, the rector of Manor
+Green, the charming Warwickshire village of which the Greens had been
+squires from time immemorial, convinced his mother that Verdant needed
+the society of young men of his own age. Mr. Larkyn's own son, a manly
+young fellow named Charles, had already been sent up to Brazenface
+College, where he was rapidly distinguishing himself; and after many
+tears and arguments, Mrs. Green had consented to her boy also going up
+to Oxford.
+
+As we have said, Mr. Verdant Green felt very tearful and lonely as his
+scout entered his rooms. But the appearance of Filcher reminded him that
+he was now an Oxford man, and he resolved to begin his career by calling
+upon Mr. Charles Larkyns.
+
+He found Mr. Larkyns lolling on a couch, in dressing-gown and slippers.
+Opposite to him was a gentleman whose face was partly hidden by a pewter
+pot, out of which he was draining the last draught. Mr. Larkyns turned
+his head, and saw dimly through the clouds of tobacco smoke that filled
+his room a tall, thin, spectacled figure, with a hat in one hand, and an
+envelope in the other.
+
+"It's no use," he said, "stealing a march on me in this way. I don't owe
+you anything; and if I did it is not convenient to pay it. Hang you
+Oxford tradesmen! You really make a man thoroughly billious. Tell your
+master that I can't get any money out of my governor till I've got my
+degree. Now make yourself scarce! You know where the door lies!"
+
+Mr. Verdant Green was so confounded at this unusual reception that he
+lost the power of motion and speech. But as Mr. Larkyns advanced towards
+him in a threatening attitude, he managed to gasp out: "Why, Charles
+Larkyns, don't you remember me, Verdant Green?"
+
+"'Pon my word, old fellow," said his friend, "I thought you were a dun.
+There are so many wretched tradesmen in this place who labour under the
+impression that because a man buys a thing he means to pay for it, that
+my life is mostly spent in dodging their messengers. Allow me," he
+added, "to introduce you to Mr. Smalls. You will find him very useful in
+helping you in your studies. He himself reads so hard that he is called
+a fast man."
+
+Mr. Smalls put down his pewter pot, and said that he had much pleasure
+in forming the acquaintance of a freshman like Mr. Verdant Green; which
+was undoubtedly true. And he then showed his absorbing interest in
+literary studies by neglecting the society of Mr. Verdant Green and
+immersing himself in the perusal of one of those vivid accounts of "a
+rattling set-to between Nobby Buffer and Hammer Sykes" which make
+"Bell's Life" the favourite reading of many Oxford scholars.
+
+"I heard from my governor," said Mr. Larkyns, "that you were coming up,
+and in the course of the morning I should have come to look you up. Have
+a cigar, old chap?"
+
+"Er--er--thank you very much," said Verdant, in a frightened way; "but I
+have never smoked."
+
+"Never smoked!" exclaimed Mr. Smalls, holding up "Bell's Life," and
+making private signals to Mr. Larkyns. "You'll soon get the better of
+that weakness! As you are a freshman, let me give you a little advice.
+You know what deep readers the Germans are. That is because they smoke
+more than we do. I should advise you to go at once to the
+vice-chancellor and ask him for a box of good cigars. He will be
+delighted to find you are beginning to set to work so soon."
+
+Mr. Verdant Green thanked Mr. Smalls for his kind advice, and said that
+he would go without delay to the vice-chancellor. And Mr. Smalls was so
+delighted with the joke, for the vice-chancellor took severe steps to
+prevent undergraduates from indulging in the fragrant weed, that he
+invited Verdant to dine with him that evening.
+
+"Just a small quiet party of hard-working men," said Mr. Smalls. "I hope
+you don't object to a very quiet party."
+
+"Oh, dear, no! I much prefer a quiet party," said Mr. Verdant Green;
+"indeed, I have always been used to quiet parties; and I shall be very
+glad to come."
+
+In order to while away the time between then and evening, Mr. Charles
+Larkyns offered to take Mr. Verdant Green over Oxford, and put him up to
+a thing or two, and show him some of the freshman's sights. Naturally,
+he got a considerable amount of fun out of his young and very credulous
+friend. For some weeks afterwards, Mr. Verdant Green never met any of
+the gorgeously robed beadles of the university without taking his hat
+off and making them a profound bow. For, according to his information,
+one of them was the vice-chancellor, and the rest were various
+dignitaries and famous men.
+
+By the time the inventive powers of Mr. Larkyns were exhausted, it was
+necessary to dress for the very quiet party. Some hours afterwards, Mr.
+Verdant Green was standing in a room filled with smoke and noise,
+leaning rather heavily against the table. His friends had first tempted
+him with a cigar; then, as his first smoke produced the strange effects
+common in these cases, they had induced him to take a little strong
+punch as a remedy. He was now leaning against the table in answer to the
+call of "Mr. Gig-lamps for a song." Having decided upon one of those
+vocal efforts which in the bosom of his family met with great applause,
+he began to sing in low and plaintive tones, "'I dre-eamt that I dwelt
+in Mar-ar-ble Halls, with'"--and then, alarmed by hearing the sound of
+his own voice, he stopped.
+
+"Try back, Verdant," shouted Mr. Larkyns.
+
+Mr. Verdant Green tried back, but with an increased confusion of ideas,
+resulting from the mixture of milk-punch and strong cigars. "'I dre-eamt
+that I dwe-elt in Mar-arble Halls, with vassals and serfs at my
+si-hi-hide; and--'--I beg your pardon, gentlemen, I really forget----oh,
+I know--'And I also dre-eamt, which ple-eased me most--' No, that's not
+it."
+
+And, smiling very amiably, he sank down on the carpet, and went to sleep
+under the table. Some time afterwards, two men were seen carrying an
+inert body across the quad; they took it upstairs and put it on a bed.
+And late the next morning, Mr. Verdant Green woke up with a splitting
+headache, and wished that he had never been born.
+
+As time went on, all the well-known practical jokes were played upon
+him; and gradually--and sometimes painfully--he learnt the wisdom that
+is not taught in books, nor acquired from maiden aunts.
+
+
+_II.--Mr. Verdant Green Does as He Has Been Done By_
+
+
+One morning, Mr. Green and one of his friends, little Mr. Bouncer, were
+lounging in the gateway of Brazenface, when a modest-looking young man
+came towards them. He seemed so ill at ease in his frock coat and high
+collar that he looked as if he were wearing these articles for the first
+time.
+
+"I'll bet you a bottle of blacking, Gig-lamps," said Mr. Bouncer, "that
+we have here an intending freshman. Let us take a rise out of him."
+
+"Can you direct me to Brazenface College, please, sir?" said the
+youthful stranger, flushing like a girl.
+
+"This is Brazenface College," said Mr. Bouncer, looking very important.
+"And, pray, what is your business here and your name?"
+
+"If you please," said the stranger, "I am James Pucker. I came to enter,
+sir, for my matriculation examination, and I wish to see the gentleman
+who will examine me."
+
+"Then you've come to the proper quarter, young man," said Mr. Bouncer.
+"Here is Mr. Pluckem," turning to Mr. Verdant Green, "the junior
+examiner."
+
+Mr. Verdant Green took his cue with astonishing aptitude and glared
+through his glasses at the trembling, blushing Mr. Pucker.
+
+"And here," continued Mr. Bouncer, pointing to Mr. Fosbrooke, who was
+coming up the street, "is the gentleman who will assist Mr. Pluckem in
+examining you."
+
+"It will be extremely inconvenient to me to examine you now," said Mr.
+Fosbrooke; "but, as you probably wish to return home as soon as
+possible, I will endeavour to conclude the business at once. Mr.
+Bouncer, will you have the goodness to bring this young gentleman to my
+rooms?"
+
+Leaving Mr. Pucker to express his thanks for this great kindness to Mr.
+Bouncer, who whiled away the time by telling him terrible stories about
+the matriculation ordeal, Mr. Verdant Green and Fosbrooke ran upstairs,
+and spread a newspaper over a heap of pipes and pewter pots and bottles
+of ale, and prepared a table with pen, ink, and scribble-paper. Soon
+afterwards, Mr. Bouncer led in the unsuspecting victim.
+
+"Take a seat, sir," said Mr. Fosbrooke, gravely. And Mr. Pucker put his
+hat on the ground, and sat down at the table in a state of blushing
+nervousness. "Have you been at a public school?"
+
+"Yes, sir," stammered the victim; "a very public one, sir. It was a
+boarding school, sir. I was a day boy, sir, and in the first class."
+
+"First class of an uncommon slow train!" muttered Mr. Bouncer.
+
+"Now, sir," continued Mr. Fosbrooke, "let us see what your Latin writing
+is like. Have the goodness to turn what I have written into Latin; and
+be very careful," added Mr. Fosbrooke sternly, "be very careful that it
+is good Latin!" And he handed Mr. Pucker a sheet of paper, on which he
+had scribbled the following:
+
+"To be turned into Latin after the Manner of the Animals of Tacitus: She
+went into the garden to cut a cabbage to make an apple-pie. Just then a
+great she-bear, coming down the street, poked its nose into the shop
+window. 'What! No soap? Bosh!' So he died, and she (very imprudently)
+married the barber. And there were present at the wedding the
+Joblillies, and the Piccannies, and the Gobelites, and the great
+Panjandrum himself, with the little button on top. So they all set to
+playing catch-who-catch-can, till the gunpowder ran out at the heels of
+their boots."
+
+It was well for the purposes of the hoaxers that Mr. Pucker's
+trepidation prevented him from making a calm perusal of the paper; he
+was nervously doing his best to turn the nonsensical English word by
+word into equally nonsensical Latin, when his limited powers of Latin
+writing were brought to a full stop by the untranslatable word "bosh."
+As he could make nothing of this, he gazed appealingly at the benignant
+features of Mr. Verdant Green. The appealing gaze was answered by our
+hero ordering Mr. Pucker to hand in his paper, and reply to the
+questions on history and Euclid. Mr. Pucker took the two papers of
+questions, and read as follows:
+
+HISTORY.
+
+"1. Show the strong presumption there is, that Nox was the god of
+battles.
+
+"2. In what way were the shades on the banks of the Styx supplied with
+spirits?
+
+"3. Give a brief account of the Roman emperors who visited the United
+States, and state what they did there.
+
+EUCLID.
+
+"1. Show the fallacy of defining an angle, as a worm at one end and a
+fool at the other.
+
+"2. If a freshman _A_ have any mouth _x_ and a bottle of wine _y_, show
+how many applications of _x_ to _y_ will place _y_+_y_ before _A_.
+
+"3. Find the value of a 'bob,' a 'tanner,' a 'joey,' a 'tizzy,' a
+'poney,' and a 'monkey.'
+
+"4. If seven horses eat twenty-five acres of grass in three days, what
+will be their condition on the fourth day? Prove this by practice."
+
+Mr. Pucker did not know what to make of such extraordinary and
+unexpected questions. He blushed, tried to write, fingered his curls,
+and then gave himself over to despair; whereupon Mr. Bouncer was seized
+with an immoderate fit of laughter, which brought the farce almost to an
+end.
+
+"I'm afraid, young gentleman," said Mr. Bouncer, "that your learning is
+not yet up to the Brazenface standard. But we will give you one more
+chance to retrieve yourself. We will try a little _vivâ voce_, Mr.
+Pucker. If a coach-wheel 6 inches in diameter and 5 inches in
+circumference makes 240 revolutions in a second, how many men will it
+take to do the same piece of work in ten days?"
+
+Mr. Pucker grew redder and hotter than before, and gasped like a fish
+out of water.
+
+"I see you will not do for us yet awhile," said his tormentor, "and we
+are therefore under the painful necessity of rejecting you. I should
+advise you to read hard for another twelve months, and try to master
+those subjects in which you have now failed."
+
+Disregarding poor Mr. Pucker's entreaties to matriculate him this once
+for the sake of his mother, when he would read very hard--indeed he
+would--Mr. Fosbrooke turned to Mr. Bouncer and gave him some private
+instructions, and Mr. Verdant Green immediately disappeared in search of
+his scout, Filcher. Five minutes afterwards, as the dejected Mr. Pucker
+was crawling out of the quad, Filcher came and led him back to the rooms
+of Mr. Slowcoach, the real examining tutor.
+
+"But I have been examined," Mr. Pucker kept on saying dejectedly. "I
+have been examined, and they rejected me."
+
+"I think it was an 'oax, sir," said Filcher.
+
+"A what!" stammered Mr. Pucker.
+
+"A 'oax--a sell," said the scout. "Those two gents has been 'aving a
+little game with you, sir. They often does it with fresh parties like
+you, sir, that seem fresh and hinnocent like."
+
+Mr. Pucker was immensely relieved at this news, and at once went to Mr.
+Slowcoach, who, after an examination of twenty minutes, passed him. But
+Filcher was alarmed at the joyful way in which he rushed out of the
+tutor's room.
+
+"You didn't tell 'im about the 'oax, sir, did yer?" asked the scout
+anxiously.
+
+"Not a word," said the radiant Mr. Pucker.
+
+"Then you're a trump, sir!" said Filcher. "And Mr. Verdant Green's
+compliments to yer, sir, and will you come up to his rooms and take a
+glass of wine with him, sir?"
+
+It need hardly be said that the blushing Mr. Pucker passed a very
+pleasant evening with his new friends, and that Mr. Verdant Green was
+very proud of having got so far out of the freshman's stage of existence
+as to take part in one of the most successful hoaxes in the history of
+Oxford.
+
+
+_III.--Town and Gown_
+
+
+Mr. Verdant Green, Mr. Charles Larkyns, and a throng of their
+acquaintances were sitting in Mr. Bouncer's rooms, on the evening of
+November 5, when a knock at the oak was heard; and as Mr. Bouncer roared
+out, "Come in!" the knocker entered. Opening the door, and striking into
+an attitude, he exclaimed in a theatrical tone and manner:
+
+"Scene, Mr. Bouncer's rooms in Brazenface; in the centre a table, at
+which a party are drinking log-juice, and smoking cabbage leaves. Door,
+left, third entrance. Enter the Putney Pet. Slow music; lights half
+down."
+
+Even Mr. Verdant Green did not require to be told the profession of the
+Putney Pet. His thick-set frame, his hard-featured, battered, hang-dog
+face proclaimed him a prize-fighter.
+
+"Now for a toast, gentlemen," said Mr. Bouncer. "May the Gown give the
+Town a jolly good hiding!"
+
+This was received with great applause, and the Putney Pet was dressed
+out in a gown and mortar-board, and the whole party then sallied out to
+battle. From time immemorial it has been the custom at Oxford for the
+town-people and the scholars to engage, at least once a year, in a wild
+scrimmage, and the pitched battle was now due. No doubt it was not quite
+fair for the men of Brazenface to bring the Putney Pet up from London
+for the occasion; but for some years Gown had been defeated by Town, and
+they were resolved to have their revenge.
+
+When Mr. Bouncer's party turned the corner of Saint Mary's, they found
+that the Town, as usual, had taken the initiative, and in a dense body
+had swept the High Street and driven all the gownsmen before them. A
+small knot of 'varsity men were manfully struggling against superior
+numbers by St. Mary's Hall.
+
+"Gown to the rescue!" shouted Mr. Bouncer, as he dashed across the
+street. "Come on, Pet! Here we are in the thick of it, just in the nick
+of time!"
+
+Poor Mr. Verdant Green had never learnt to box. He was a lover of peace
+and quietness, and would have preferred to have watched the battle from
+a college window; but he had been drawn in the fray against his will by
+Mr. Bouncer. He now rushed into the scrimmage with no idea of fighting,
+and a valiant bargee singled him out as an easy prey, and aimed a heavy
+blow at him. Instinctively doubling his fists, Mr. Verdant Green found
+that necessity was indeed the mother of invention; and, with a passing
+thought of what would be his mother's and his maiden aunt's feelings
+could they see him fighting with a common bargeman, he managed to guard
+off the blow. But he was not so fortunate in the second round, for the
+bargee knocked him down, but was happily knocked down in turn by the
+Putney Pet. The language of this gentle and refined scholar had become
+very peculiar.
+
+"There's a squelcher for you, my kivey," he said to the bargee, as he
+sent him sprawling. Then, turning round, he asked a townsman: "What do
+you charge for a pint of Dutch pink?" following up the question by
+striking him on the nose.
+
+Unused to being questioned in this violent way, the town party at last
+turned and fled, and the gownsmen went in search of other foes to
+conquer. Even Mr. Verdant Green felt desperately courageous when the
+town took to their heels and vanished.
+
+At Exeter College another town-and-gown fight was raging furiously. The
+town mob had come across the Senior Proctor, the Rev. Thomas Tozer; and
+while Old Towzer, as he was called, was trying to assert his proctorial
+authority over them, they had jeered him, and torn his clothes, and
+bespattered him with mud. A small group of gownsmen rushed to his
+rescue.
+
+"Oh, this is painful," said the Rev. Thomas Tozer, putting the
+handkerchief to his bleeding nose. "This is painful! This is exceedingly
+painful, gentlemen!"
+
+He was at once surrounded by sympathising undergraduates, who begged him
+to allow them to charge the town at once. But the Town far outnumbered
+the Gown, and, in spite of the assistance of the reverend proctor, the
+fight was going against them. The Rev. Thomas Tozer had just been
+knocked down for the first time in his life, and the cry of "Gown to the
+rescue!" fell very pleasantly on his ears. Mr. Verdant Green helped him
+to rise, while the Putney Pet stepped before him and struck out right
+and left. Ten minutes of scientific pugilism, and the fate of the battle
+was decided. The Town fled every way, and the Rev. Thomas Tozer was at
+last able to look calmly about him. He at once resumed his proctorial
+duties.
+
+"Why have you not on your gown, sir?" he said to the Putney Pet.
+
+"I ax yer pardon, guv'nor," said the Pet deferentially. "I couldn't get
+on in it, nohow. So I pocketed it; but some cove has gone and prigged
+it."
+
+"I am unable to comprehend the nature of your language, sir," said the
+Rev. Thomas Tozer angrily, thinking it was an impudent undergraduate. "I
+don't understand you, sir; but I desire at once to know your name and
+college."
+
+Mr. Bouncer, however, succeeded in explaining matters to the proctor,
+who then congratulated the Pet on having displayed pugilistic powers
+worthy of the Xystics of the noblest days of Ancient Rome. Both the Pet
+and the undergraduates wondered what a Xystic was, but instead of
+inquiring further into the matter, they went to the Roebuck, where,
+after a supper of grilled bones and welsh-rabbits, Mr. Verdant Green
+gave, "by particular request," his now celebrated song, "The Mar-arble
+Halls."
+
+The forehead of the singer was decorated with a patch of brown paper,
+from which arose a strong smell of vinegar. But he was not ashamed of
+it; indeed, he wore it all the next day, and was sorry when he had to
+take it off--for was it not, in a way, a badge of courage?
+
+From this time Mr. Verdant Green began to despise mere reading-men who
+never went in for sports. He resolved at once to go in for them all. He
+took to rowing, and was rescued from a watery grave by Mr. Bouncer.
+Then, defeated but undaunted, he took to riding, and was thrown off. But
+what did it matter? Before the term ended, he grew more accustomed to
+the management of Oxford tubs and Oxford hacks.
+
+It is true that the unfeeling man who reported the Torpid races for
+"Bell's Life" had the unkindness to state in cold print; "Worcester
+succeeded in making the bump at the Cherwell, in consequence of No. 3 of
+the Brazenface boat suffering from fatigue." And on the copy of the
+journal sent to Mrs. Green of Manor Green, her son sadly drew a pencil
+line under "No. 3," and wrote: "This was me." But both Mrs. Green and
+Miss Virginia Green were more than consoled when their beloved boy
+returned home about midsummer with a slip of paper on which was written
+and printed:
+
+GREEN, VERDANT, È. Coll. AEn. Fac. Quiæstionibus Magistrorum Scholarum
+in Parviso pro forma respondit.
+
+        Ita testamur (GULIELMUS SMITH.
+                     (ROBERTUS JONES.
+
+In other words, Mr. Verdant Green had got through his Smalls. But, sad
+to say, poor Mr. Bouncer had been plucked.
+
+Mr. Verdant Green smiled to himself. It was the sheerest bit of good
+luck that he had managed to get through. Still, he had learned more at
+Oxford than was taught in books--he had learned to be a manly fellow in
+spite of his gig-lamps.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+CHARLOTTE BRONTË
+
+
+Jane Eyre
+
+      Charlotte Brontë was born at Thornton, Yorkshire, England, on
+     the 21st of April, 1816, of Irish and Cornish stock. By reason
+     of her father's manner of living, she was utterly deprived of
+     all companions of her own age. She therefore lived in a little
+     world of her own, and by the time she was thirteen years of
+     age, it had become her constant habit, and one of her few
+     pleasures, to weave imaginary tales, idealising her favorite
+     historical heroes, and setting forth in narrative form her own
+     thoughts and feelings. Both Charlotte and her sisters Emily
+     and Anne early found refuge in their habits of composition,
+     and about 1845 made their first literary venture--a small
+     volume of poems. This was not successful, but the authors were
+     encouraged to make a further trial, and each began to prepare
+     a prose tale. "Jane Eyre," perhaps the most poignant
+     love-story in the English tongue, was published on October 16,
+     1847. Its title ran: "Jane Eyre: an Autobiography. Edited by
+     Currer Bell." The romantic story of its acceptance by the
+     publishers has been told in our condensation of Mrs. Gaskell's
+     "Life of Charlotte Brontë." (See LIVES AND LETTERS, Vol. IX.)
+     Written secretly under the pressure of incessant domestic
+     anxiety, as if with the very life-blood of its author, the
+     wonderful intensity of the story kindled the imagination of
+     the reading public in an extraordinary degree, and the
+     popularity at once attained has never flagged. Though the
+     experiences of Jane Eyre were not, except in comparatively
+     unimportant episodes, the experiences of the authoress, Jane
+     Eyre is Charlotte Brontë. One of the most striking features of
+     the book--a feature preserved in the following summary--is the
+     haunting suggestion of sympathy between nature and human
+     emotion. The publication of "Jane Eyre" removed its authoress
+     from almost straitened circumstances and a narrow round of
+     life to material comfort and congenial society. In reality it
+     endowed at once the most diffident of women with lasting fame.
+     After a brief period of married life, Charlotte Brontë died on
+     March 31, 1855.
+
+
+_I.--The Master of Thornfield Hall_
+
+
+Thornfield, my new home after I left school, was, I found, a fine old
+battlemented hall, and Mrs. Fairfax, who had answered my advertisement,
+a mild, elderly lady, related by marriage to Mr. Rochester, the owner of
+the estate and the guardian of Adela Varens, my little pupil.
+
+It was not till three months after my arrival there that my adventures
+began. One day Mrs. Fairfax proposed to show me over the house, much of
+which was unoccupied. The third storey especially had the aspect of a
+home of the past--a shrine of memory. I liked its hush and quaintness.
+
+"If there were a ghost at Thornfield Hall this would be its haunt," said
+Mrs. Fairfax, as we passed the range of apartments on our way to see the
+view from the roof.
+
+I was pacing through the corridor of the third floor on my return, when
+the last sound I expected in so still a region struck my ear--a laugh,
+distinct, formal, mirthless. At first it was very low, but it passed off
+in a clamorous peal that seemed to wake an echo in every lonely chamber.
+
+"Mrs. Fairfax," I called out, "did you hear that laugh? Who is it?"
+
+"Some of the servants very likely," she answered; "perhaps Grace Poole."
+
+The laugh was repeated in a low tone, and terminated in an odd murmur.
+
+"Grace!" exclaimed Mrs. Fairfax.
+
+I didn't expect Grace to answer, for the laugh was preternatural.
+
+Nevertheless, the door nearest me opened, and a servant came out--a set,
+square-made figure, with a hard, plain face.
+
+"Too much noise, Grace," said Mrs. Fairfax. "Remember directions!"
+
+Grace curtseyed silently, and went in.
+
+Not unfrequently after that I heard Grace Poole's laugh and her
+eccentric murmurs, stranger than her laugh.
+
+Late one fine, calm afternoon in January I volunteered to carry to the
+post at Hay, two miles distant, a letter Mrs. Fairfax had just written.
+The lane to Hay inclined uphill all the way, and having reached the
+middle, I sat on a stile till the sun went down, and on the hill-top
+above me stood the rising moon. The village was a mile distant, but in
+the absolute hush I could hear plainly its murmurs of life.
+
+A rude noise broke on the fine ripplings and whisperings of the evening
+calm, a metallic clatter, a horse was coming. The windings of the lane
+hid it as it approached. Then I heard a rush under the hedge, and close
+by glided a great dog, not staying to look up. The horse followed--a
+tall steed, and on its back a rider. He passed; a sliding sound, a
+clattering tumble, and man and horse were down. They had slipped on the
+sheet of ice which glased the causeway. The dog came bounding back,
+sniffed round the prostrate group, and then ran up to me; it was all he
+could do. I obeyed him, and walked down to the traveller struggling
+himself free of his steed. I think he was swearing, but am not certain.
+
+"Can I do anything?" I asked.
+
+"You can stand on one side," he answered as he rose. Whereupon began a
+heaving, stamping process, accompanied by a barking and baying, and the
+horse was re-established and the dog silenced with a "Down, Pilot!"
+
+"If you are hurt and want help, sir," I remarked, "I can fetch someone,
+either from Thornfield Hall or from Hay."
+
+"Thank you, I shall do. I have no broken bones, only a sprain." And he
+limped to the stile.
+
+He had a dark face, with stern features and a heavy brow. His eyes and
+gathered eyebrows looked ireful and thwarted; he was past youth, but had
+not reached middle age--perhaps he might be thirty-five. I felt no fear
+of him and but little shyness. His frown and roughness set me at ease.
+
+He waved me to go, but I said:
+
+"I cannot think of leaving you in this solitary lane till you are fit to
+mount your horse."
+
+"You ought to be at home yourself," said he. "Where do you come from?"
+
+"From just below."
+
+"Do you mean that house with the battlements?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Whose house is it?"
+
+"Mr. Rochester's."
+
+"Do you know Mr. Rochester?"
+
+"No, I have never seen him."
+
+"You are not a servant at the Hall, of course. You are--"
+
+"I am the governess."
+
+"Ah, the governess!" he repeated. "Deuce take me if I had not forgotten!
+Excuse me," he continued, "necessity compels me to make you useful."
+
+He laid a heavy hand on my shoulder, limped to his horse, caught the
+bridle, and, grimacing grimly, sprang into the saddle and, with a "Thank
+you," bounded away.
+
+When I returned from Hay, after posting Mrs. Fairfax's letter, I went to
+her room. She was not there, but sitting upright on the rug was a great
+black-and-white long-haired dog. I went forward and said, "Pilot," and
+the thing got up, came to me, sniffed me, and wagged his great tail. I
+rang the bell.
+
+"What dog is this?"
+
+"He came with master, who has just arrived. He has had an accident, and
+his ankle is sprained."
+
+The next day I was summoned to take tea with Mr. Rochester and my pupil.
+When I entered he was looking at Adela, who knelt on the hearth beside
+Pilot.
+
+"Here is Miss Eyre, sir," said Mrs. Fairfax, in her quiet way.
+
+Mr. Rochester bowed, still not taking his eyes from the group of the dog
+and the child.
+
+I sat down, disembarrassed. Politeness might have confused me; caprice
+laid me under no obligation.
+
+Mrs. Fairfax seemed to think someone should be amiable, and she began to
+talk.
+
+"Madam, I should like some tea," was the sole rejoinder she got.
+
+"Come to the fire," said the master, when the tray was taken away. "When
+you came on me in Hay lane last night I thought unaccountably of fairy
+tales, and had half a mind to demand whether you had bewitched my horse.
+I am not sure yet. Who are your parents?"
+
+"I have none."
+
+"I thought not. And so you were waiting for your people when you sat on
+that stile?"
+
+"For whom, sir?"
+
+"For the men in green. Did I break through one of your rings that you
+spread that ice on the causeway?"
+
+I shook my head.
+
+"The men in green all forsook England a hundred years ago. I don't think
+either summer or harvest or winter moon will ever shine on their revels
+more."
+
+Mrs. Fairfax dropped her knitting, wondering what sort of talk this was,
+and remarked that Miss Eyre had been a kind and careful teacher.
+
+"Don't trouble yourself to give her a character," returned Mr.
+Rochester. "I shall judge for myself. She began by felling my horse."
+
+"You said Mr. Rochester was not peculiar, Mrs. Fairfax," I remonstrated,
+when I rejoined her in her room after putting Adela to bed.
+
+After a time my master's manner towards me changed. It became more
+uniform. I never seemed in his way. He did not take fits of chilling
+hauteur. When he met me, the encounter seemed welcome; he always had a
+word, and sometimes a smile. I felt at times as if he were my relation
+rather than my master, and so happy did I become that the blanks of
+existence were filled up. He had now been resident eight weeks, though
+Mrs. Fairfax said he seldom stayed at the Hall longer than a fortnight.
+
+
+_II.--The Mystery of the Third Floor_
+
+
+One night, I hardly know whether I had been sleeping or musing, I
+started wide awake on hearing a vague murmur, peculiar and lugubrious.
+It ceased, but my heart beat anxiously; my inward tranquillity was
+broken. The clock, far down in the hall, struck two. Just then my
+chamber-door was touched as if fingers swept the panels groping a way
+along the dark gallery outside. I was chilled with fear. Then I
+remembered that it might be Pilot, and the idea calmed me. But it was
+fated I should not sleep that night, for at the very keyhole of my
+chamber, as it seemed, a demoniac laugh was uttered. My first impulse
+was to rise and fasten the bolt, my next to cry: "Who is there?" Ere
+long steps retreated up the gallery towards the third floor staircase,
+and then all was still.
+
+"Was it Grace Poole?" thought I. I hurried on my frock, and with a
+trembling hand opened the door. There, burning outside, left on the
+matting of the gallery, was a candle; and the air was filled with smoke,
+which rushed in a cloud from Mr. Rochester's room. In an instant I was
+within the chamber. Tongues of fire darted round the bed; the curtains
+were on fire, and in the midst lay Mr. Rochester, in deep sleep. I shook
+him, but he seemed stupefied. Then I rushed to his basin and ewer, and
+deluged the bed with water. He woke with the cry: "Is there a flood?
+What is it?"
+
+I briefly related what had transpired. He was now in his dressing-gown,
+and, warning me to stay where I was and call no one, he added: "I must
+pay a visit to the third floor." A long time elapsed ere he returned,
+pale and gloomy.
+
+"I have found it all out," said he; "it is as I thought. You are no
+talking fool. Say nothing about it."
+
+He held out his hand as we parted. I gave him mine; he took it in both
+his own.
+
+"You have saved my life. I have a pleasure in owing you so immense a
+debt. I feel your benefits no burden, Jane."
+
+Strange energy was in his voice.
+
+Till morning I was tossed on a buoyant, but unquiet sea. In the morning
+I heard the servants exclaim how providential that master thought of the
+water-jug when he had left the candle alight; and passing the room, I
+saw, sewing rings on the new curtains, no other than--Grace Poole.
+
+Company now came to the hall, including the beautiful Miss Ingram, whom
+rumour associated with Mr. Rochester, as I heard from Mrs. Fairfax.
+
+One day Mr. Rochester had been called away from home, and on his return,
+as I was the first inmate of the house to meet him, I remarked: "Oh, are
+you aware, Mr. Rochester, that a stranger has arrived since you left
+this morning?"
+
+"A stranger! no; I expected no one; did he give his name?"
+
+"His name is Mason, sir, and he comes from the West Indies."
+
+Mr. Rochester was standing near me, and as I spoke he gave my wrist a
+convulsive grip, while a spasm caught his breath, and he turned whiter
+than ashes.
+
+"Do you feel ill, sir?" I inquired.
+
+"Jane, I've got a blow; I've got a blow, Jane!" he staggered.
+
+Then he sat down and made me sit beside him.
+
+"My little friend," said he, "I wish I were in a quiet island with only
+you; and trouble and danger and hideous recollections were removed from
+me."
+
+"Can I help you, sir? I'd give my life to serve you."
+
+"Jane, if aid is wanted, I'll seek it at your hands."
+
+"Thank you, sir; tell me what to do."
+
+"Go back into the room; step quietly up to Mason, tell him Mr. Rochester
+has come and wishes to see him; show him in here, and then leave me."
+
+At a late hour that night I heard the visitors repair to their chambers
+and Mr. Rochester saying: "This way, Mason; this is your room."
+
+He spoke cheerfully, and the gay tones set my heart at ease.
+
+Awaking in the dead of night I stretched my hand to draw the curtain,
+for the moon was full and bright. Good God! What a cry! The night was
+rent in twain by a savage, shrilly sound that ran from end to end of
+Thornfield Hall.
+
+The cry died and was not renewed. Indeed, whatever being uttered that
+fearful shriek could not soon repeat it; not the widest-winged condor on
+the Andes could, twice in succession, send out such a yell from the
+cloud shrouding his eyrie.
+
+It came out of the third storey. And overhead--yes, in the room just
+above my chamber, I heard a deadly struggle, and a half-smothered voice
+shout, "Help! help!"
+
+A chamber door opened; someone rushed along the gallery. Another step
+stamped on the floor above, and something fell. Then there was silence.
+
+The sleepers were all aroused and gathered in the gallery, which but for
+the moonlight would have been in complete darkness. The door at the end
+of the gallery opened, and Mr. Rochester advanced with a candle. He had
+just descended from the upper storey.
+
+"All's right!" he cried. "A servant has had a nightmare, that is all,
+and has taken a fit with fright. Now I must see you all back to your
+rooms." And so by dint of coaxing and commanding he contrived to get
+them back to their dormitories.
+
+I retreated unnoticed and dressed myself carefully to be ready for
+emergencies. About an hour passed, and then a cautious hand tapped low
+at my door.
+
+"Are you up and dressed?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then come out quietly."
+
+Mr. Rochester stood in the gallery holding a light.
+
+"Bring a sponge and some volatile salts," said he.
+
+I did so, and followed him.
+
+"You don't turn sick at the sight of blood?"
+
+"I think not; I have never been tried yet."
+
+We entered a room with an inner apartment, from whence came a snarling,
+snatching sound. Mr. Rochester went forward into this apartment, and a
+shout of laughter greeted his entrance. Grace Poole, then, was there.
+When he came out he closed the door behind him.
+
+"Here, Jane!" he said.
+
+I walked round to the other side of the large bed in the outer room, and
+there, in an easy-chair, his head leaned back, I recognised the pale and
+seemingly lifeless face of the stranger, Mason. His linen on one side
+and one arm was almost soaked in blood.
+
+Mr. Rochester took the sponge, dipped it in water, moistened the
+corpse-like face, and applied my smelling-bottle to the nostrils.
+
+Mr. Mason unclosed his eyes and murmured: "Is there immediate danger?"
+
+"Pooh!--a mere scratch! I'll fetch a surgeon now, and you'll be able to
+be removed by the morning."
+
+"Jane," he continued, "you'll sponge the blood when it returns, and put
+your salts to his nose; and you'll not speak to him on any pretext--and,
+Richard, it will be at the peril of your life if you speak to her."
+
+Two hours later the surgeon came and removed the injured man.
+
+In the morning I heard Rochester in the yard, saying to some of the
+visitors, "Mason got the start of you all this morning; he was gone
+before sunrise. I rose to see him off."
+
+
+_III.--The Shadowy Walk_
+
+
+A splendid midsummer shone over England. In the sweetest hour of the
+twenty-four, after the sun had gone down in simple state, and dew fell
+cool on the panting plain, I had walked into the orchard, to the giant
+horse-chestnut, near the sunk fence that separates the Hall grounds from
+the lonely fields, when there came to me the warning fragrance of Mr.
+Rochester's cigar. I was about to retreat when he intercepted me, and
+said: "Turn back, Jane; on so lovely a night it is a shame to sit in the
+house." I did not like to walk alone with my master at this hour in the
+shadowy orchard, but could find no reason for leaving him.
+
+"Jane," he recommenced, as we slowly strayed down in the direction of
+the horse-chestnut, "Thornfield is a pleasant place in summer, is it
+not?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"And you must have become in some degree attached to it?"
+
+"I am attached to it, indeed."
+
+"Pity!" he said, and paused.
+
+"Must I move on, sir?" I asked.
+
+"I believe you must, Jane."
+
+This was a blow, but I did not let it prostrate me.
+
+"Then you are going to be married, sir?"
+
+"In about a month I hope to be a bridegroom. We have been good friends,
+Jane, have we not?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Here is the chestnut-tree; come, we will sit here in peace to-night."
+He seated me and himself.
+
+"Jane, do you hear the nightingale singing in the wood? Listen!"
+
+In listening, I sobbed convulsively, for I could repress what I endured
+no longer, and when I did speak, it was only to express an impetuous
+wish that I had never been born, or never come to Thornfield.
+
+"Because you are sorry to leave it?"
+
+The vehemence of emotion was claiming mastery, and struggling for full
+sway--to overcome, to live, rise, and reign at last; yes--and to speak.
+
+"I grieve to leave Thornfield. I love Thornfield, because I have lived
+in it a full and delightful life. I have not been trampled on; I have
+not been petrified. I have talked face to face with what I delight
+in--an original, a vigorous and expanded mind. I have known you, Mr.
+Rochester. I see the necessity of departure, but it is like looking on
+the necessity of death."
+
+"Where do you see the necessity?" he asked suddenly.
+
+"Do you think I can stay to become nothing to you?" I retorted, roused
+to something like passion. "Do you think, because I am poor, obscure,
+plain, and little, I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong! I have
+as much soul as you--and full as much heart! I am not talking to you now
+through the medium of custom, conventionalities, nor even mortal flesh.
+It is my spirit that addresses your spirit, just as if both had passed
+through the grave, and we stood at God's feet, equal--as we are!"
+
+"As we are!" repeated Mr. Rochester, gathering me to his heart and
+pressing his lips on my lips. "So, Jane!"
+
+"Yes, so, sir!" I replied. "I have spoken my mind, and can go anywhere
+now. Let me go!"
+
+"Jane, be still; don't struggle so, like a wild, frantic bird, rending
+its own plumage in its desperation."
+
+"I am no bird, and no net ensnares me. I am a free human being, with an
+independent will, which I now exert to leave you."
+
+Another effort set me at liberty, and I stood erect before him.
+
+"And your will shall decide your destiny," he said. "I offer you my
+hand, my heart, and a share in all my possessions."
+
+A waft of wind came sweeping down the laurel walk and trembled through
+the boughs of the chestnut; it wandered away--away to an infinite
+distance--it died. The nightingale's song was then the only voice of the
+hour; in listening to it again, I wept.
+
+Mr. Rochester sat looking at me gently, and at last said, drawing me to
+him again: "My bride is here, because my equal is here, and my likeness.
+Jane, will you marry me? Give me my name--Edward. Say, 'I will marry
+you.'"
+
+"Are you in earnest? Do you love me? Do you sincerely wish me to be your
+wife?"
+
+"I do. I swear it!"
+
+"Then, sir, I will marry you."
+
+"God pardon me, and man meddle not with me. I have her, and will hold
+her!"
+
+But what had befallen the night? And what ailed the chestnut-tree? It
+writhed and groaned, while the wind roared in the laurel walk.
+
+"We must go in," said Mr. Rochester; "the weather changes."
+
+He hurried me up the walk, but we were wet before we could pass the
+threshold.
+
+
+_IV.--The Mystery Explained_
+
+
+There were no groomsmen, no bridesmaids, no relatives to wait for or
+marshal; none but Mr. Rochester and I. I wonder what other bridegroom
+looked as he did--so bent up to a purpose, so resolutely grim. Our place
+was taken at the communion rails. All was still; two shadows only moved
+in a remote corner of the church.
+
+As the clergyman's lips unclosed to ask, "Wilt thou have this woman for
+thy wedded wife?" a distinct and near voice said: "The marriage cannot
+go on. I declare the existence of an impediment."
+
+"What is the nature of the impediment?" asked the clergyman.
+
+"It simply consists in the existence of a previous marriage," said the
+speaker. "Mr. Rochester has a wife now living."
+
+My nerves vibrated to those low-spoken words as they had never vibrated
+to thunder. I looked at Mr. Rochester; I made him look at me. His face
+was colourless rock; his eye both spark and flint; he seemed as if he
+would defy all things.
+
+"Mr. Mason, have the goodness to step forward," said the stranger.
+
+"Are you aware, sir, whether or not this gentleman's wife is still
+living?" inquired the clergyman.
+
+"She is now living at Thornfield Hall," said Mason, with white lips. "I
+saw her there last April. I am her brother."
+
+I saw a grim smile contract Mr. Rochester's lip.
+
+"Enough," said he. "Wood"--to the clergyman--"close your book; John
+Green"--to the clerk--"leave the church; there will be no wedding
+to-day."
+
+"Bigamy is an ugly word," he continued, "but I meant to be a bigamist.
+This girl thought all was fair and legal, and never dreamt she was going
+to be entrapped into a feigned union with a defrauded wretch already
+bound to a bad, mad, and embruted partner. Follow me. I invite you all
+to visit Grace Poole's patient and my wife!"
+
+We passed up to the third storey, and there, in the deep shade of the
+inner room beyond the room where I had watched over the wounded Mason,
+ran backward and forward, seemingly on all fours, a figure, whether
+beast or human one could not at first sight tell. It snatched and
+growled like some wild animal. It was covered with clothing; but a
+quantity of dark, grizzled hair, wild as a mane, hid its head and face.
+
+"That is my wife," said Mr. Rochester, "whom I was cheated into marrying
+fifteen years ago--a mad woman and a drunkard, of a family of idiots and
+maniacs for three generations. And this is what I wished to
+have"--laying his hand on my shoulder--"this young girl who stands so
+grave and quiet, at the mouth of hell. Jane," he continued, in an
+agonised tone, "I never meant to wound you thus."
+
+Reader! I forgave him at the moment, and on the spot. I forgave him all;
+yet not in words, not outwardly; only at my heart's core.
+
+That night I never thought to sleep, but a slumber fell on me as soon as
+I lay down in bed, and in my sleep a vision spoke to my spirit:
+"Daughter, flee temptation!" I rose with the dim dawn. One word
+comprised my intolerable duty--Depart!
+
+After three days wandering and starvation on the north-midland moors,
+for hastily and secretly I had travelled by coach as far from Thornfield
+as my money would carry me, I found a temporary home at the vicarage of
+Morton, until the clergyman of that moorland parish, Mr. St. John
+Rivers, secured for me--under the assumed name of Jane Elliott--the
+mistresship of the village school.
+
+At Christmas I left the school. As the spring advanced St. John Rivers,
+who, with an icy heroism, was possessed by the idea of becoming a
+missionary, urged me strongly to accompany him to India as his wife, on
+the grounds that I was docile, diligent, and courageous, and would be
+very useful. I felt such veneration for him that I was tempted to cease
+struggling with him--to rush down the torrent of his will into the gulf
+of his existence, and there lose my own.
+
+
+_V.--Reunion_
+
+
+The time came when he called on me to decide. I fervently longed to do
+what was right, and only that. "Show me the path, show me the path!" I
+entreated of Heaven.
+
+My heart beat fast and thick; I heard its throb. Suddenly it stood still
+to an inexpressible feeling that thrilled it through. My senses rose
+expectant; ear and eye waited, while the flesh quivered on my bones. I
+saw nothing; but I heard a voice, somewhere, cry "Jane! Jane! Jane!"--
+nothing more.
+
+"Oh, God! What is it?" I gasped. I might have said, "Where is it?" for
+it did not seem in the room, nor in the house, nor in the garden, nor
+from overhead. And it was the voice of a human being--a loved,
+well-remembered voice--that of Edward Fairfax Rochester; and it spoke in
+pain and woe, wildly, eerily, urgently.
+
+"I am coming!" I cried. "Wait for me!" I ran out into the garden; it was
+void.
+
+"Down, superstition!" I commented, as that spectre rose up black by the
+black yew at the gate.
+
+I mounted to my chamber, locked myself in, fell on my knees, and seemed
+to penetrate very near a Mighty Spirit; and my soul rushed out in
+gratitude at His feet.
+
+Then I rose from the thanksgiving, took a resolve, and lay down,
+unscared, enlightened, eager but for the daylight.
+
+Thirty-six hours later I was crossing the fields to where I could see
+the full front of my master's mansion, and, looking with a timorous joy,
+saw--a blackened ruin.
+
+Where, meantime, was the hapless owner?
+
+I returned to the inn, where the host himself, a respectable middle-aged
+man, brought my breakfast into the parlour. I scarcely knew how to begin
+my questions.
+
+"Is Mr. Rochester living at Thornfield Hall now?"
+
+"No, ma'am--oh, no! No one is living there. It was burnt down about
+harvest time. The fire broke out at dead of night."
+
+"Was it known how it originated?"
+
+"They guessed, ma'am; they guessed. There was a lady--a--a lunatic kept
+in the house. She had a woman to take care of her called Mrs. Poole, an
+able woman but for one fault--she kept a private bottle of gin by her;
+and the mad lady would take the keys out of her pocket, let herself out
+of her chamber, and go roaming about the house doing any wild mischief
+that came into her head. Mr. Rochester was at home when the fire broke
+out, and he went up to the attics and got the servants out of their
+beds, and then went back to get his mad wife out of her cell. And then
+they called out to him that she was on the roof, where she was waving
+her arms and shouting till they could hear her a mile off. She was a big
+woman, and had long, black hair; and we could see it streaming against
+the flames as she stood. We saw Mr. Rochester approach her and call
+'Bertha!' And then, ma'am, she yelled and gave a spring, and the next
+minute lay dead, smashed on the pavement."
+
+"Were any other lives lost?"
+
+"No. Perhaps it would have been better if there had. Poor Mr. Edward! He
+is stone-blind."
+
+I had dreaded he was mad.
+
+"As he came down the great staircase it fell, and he was taken out of
+the ruins with one eye knocked out and one hand so crushed that the
+surgeon had to amputate it directly. The other eye inflamed, and he lost
+the sight of that also."
+
+"Where does he live now?"
+
+"At Ferndean, a manor house on a farm he has--quite a desolate spot. Old
+John and his wife are with him; he would have none else."
+
+To Ferndean I came just ere dusk, walking the last mile. As I
+approached, the narrow front door of the grange slowly opened, and a
+figure came out into the twilight; a man without a hat. He stretched
+forth his hand to feel whether it rained. It was my master, Edward
+Fairfax Rochester.
+
+He groped his way back to the house, and, re-entering it, closed the
+door. I now drew near and knocked, and John's wife opened for me.
+
+"Mary," I said, "how are you?"
+
+She started as if she had seen a ghost. I calmed her, and followed her
+into the kitchen, where I explained in a few words that I should stay
+for the night, and that John must fetch my trunk from the turnpike
+house. At this moment the parlour bell rang.
+
+Mary proceeded to fill a glass with water and place it on a tray,
+together with candles.
+
+"Give the tray to me; I will carry it in."
+
+The old dog Pilot pricked up his ears as I entered the room; then he
+jumped up with a yelp, and bounded towards me, almost knocking the tray
+from my hands.
+
+"What is the matter?" inquired Mr. Rochester.
+
+He put out his hand with a quick gesture. "Who is this?" he demanded
+imperiously.
+
+"Will you have a little more water, sir? I spilt half of what was in the
+glass," I said.
+
+"What is it? Who speaks?"
+
+"Pilot knows me, and John and Mary know I am here," I answered.
+
+He groped, and, arresting his wandering hand, I prisoned it in both
+mine.
+
+"Her very fingers! Her small, slight fingers! Is it Jane--Jane Eyre?" he
+cried.
+
+"My dear master, I am Jane Eyre. I have found you out; I am come back to
+you!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+Shirley
+
+      "Shirley," Charlotte Brontë's second novel, was published two
+     years after "Jane Eyre"--on October 26, 1849. The writing of
+     it was a tragedy. When the book was begun, her brother,
+     Branwell, and her two sisters, Emily and Anne Brontë, were
+     alive. When it was finished all were dead, and Charlotte was
+     left alone with her aged father. In the character of Shirley
+     Keeldar the novelist tried to depict her sister Emily as she
+     would have been had she been placed in health and prosperity.
+     Nearly all the characters were drawn from life, and drawn so
+     vividly that they were recognised locally. Caroline Helstone
+     was sketched from Ellen Nussey, Charlotte Brontë's dearest
+     friend, who furnished later much of the material for the best
+     biographies of the novelist. "Shirley" fully sustained at the
+     time of its publication, the reputation won through "Jane
+     Eyre"; but under the test of time the story--owing, no doubt,
+     to the conditions under which it was written--has not taken
+     rank with that first-fruit of genius, "Jane Eyre," or that
+     consummation of genius, "Villette."
+
+
+_I.--In the Dark Days of the War_
+
+
+Released from the business yoke, Robert Moore was, if not lively
+himself, a willing spectator of the liveliness of Caroline Helstone, his
+cousin, a complacent listener to her talk, a ready respondent to her
+questions. Sometimes he was better than this--almost animated, quite
+gentle and friendly. The drawback was that by the next morning he was
+frozen up again.
+
+To-night he stood on the kitchen hearth of Hollow's cottage, after his
+return from Whinbury cloth-market, and Caroline, who had come over to
+the cottage from the vicarage, stood beside him. Looking down, his
+glance rested on an uplifted face, flushed, smiling, happy, shaded with
+silky curls, lit with fine eyes. Moore placed his hand a moment on his
+young cousin's shoulder, stooped, and left a kiss on her forehead.
+
+"Are you certain, Robert, you are not fretting about your frames and
+your business, and the war?" she asked.
+
+"Not just now."
+
+"Are you positive you don't feel Hollow's cottage too small for you, and
+narrow, and dismal?"
+
+"At this moment, no."
+
+"Can you affirm that you are not bitter at heart because rich and great
+people forget you?"
+
+"No more questions. I am not anxious to curry favour with rich and great
+people. I only want means--a position--a career."
+
+"Which your own talent and goodness shall win for you. You were made to
+be great; you shall be great."
+
+"Ah! You judge me with your heart; you should judge me with your head."
+
+It was the dark days of the Napoleonic wars, when the cloth of the West
+Riding was shut out from the markets of the world, and ruin threatened
+the manufacturers, while the introduction of machinery so reduced the
+numbers of the factory hands that desperation was born of misery and
+famine.
+
+Robert Moore, of Hollow's Mill, was one of the most unpopular of the
+mill-owners, partly because he haughtily declined to conciliate the
+working class, and partly because of his foreign demeanour, for he was
+the son of a Flemish mother, had been educated abroad, and had only come
+home recently to attempt to retrieve, by modern trading methods, the
+fallen fortune of the ancient firm of his Yorkshire forefathers.
+
+The last trade outrage of the district had been the destruction on
+Stilbro' Moor of the new machines that were being brought by night to
+his mill.
+
+Caroline Helstone was eighteen years old, drawing near the confines of
+illusive dreams. Elf-land behind her, the shores of Reality in front. To
+herself she said that night, after Robert had walked home with her to
+the rectory gate: "I love Robert, and I feel sure that he loves me. I
+have thought so many a time before; to-day I felt it."
+
+And Robert, leaning later on his own yard gate, with the hushed, dark
+mill before him, exclaimed: "This won't do. There's weakness--there's
+downright ruin in all this."
+
+For Caroline Helstone was a fatherless and portionless girl, entirely
+dependent on her uncle, the vicar of Briarfield.
+
+
+_II.--The Master of Hollows Mill_
+
+
+"Come, child, put away your books. Lock them up! Get your bonnet on; I
+want you to make a call with me."
+
+"With you, uncle?"
+
+Thus the Rev. Matthewson Helstone, the imperious little vicar of
+Briarfield, to his niece, who, obeyed his unusual request, asked where
+they were going.
+
+"To Fieldhead," replied the Rev. Matthewson Helstone. "We are going to
+see Miss Shirley Keeldar."
+
+"Miss Keeldar! Is she come to Yorkshire?"
+
+"She is; and will reside for a time on her property."
+
+The Keeldars were the lords of the manor, and their property included
+the mill rented by Mr. Robert Moore.
+
+The visitors were received at Fieldhead by a middle-aged nervous English
+lady, to whom Caroline at once found it natural to talk with a gentle
+ease, until Miss Shirley Keeldar, entering the room, introduced them to
+Mrs. Pryor, who, she added, "was my governess, and is still my friend."
+
+Shirley Keeldar was no ugly heiress. She was agreeable to the eye,
+gracefully made, and her face, pale, intelligent, and of varied
+expression, also possessed the charm of grace.
+
+The interview had not proceeded far before Shirley hoped they would
+often have the presence of Miss Helstone at Fieldhead; a request
+repeated by Mrs. Pryor.
+
+"You are distinguished more than you think," said Shirley, "for Mrs.
+Pryor often tantalises me by the extreme caution of her judgments. I
+have entreated her to say what she thinks of my gentleman-tenant, Mr.
+Moore, but she evades an answer. What are Mr. Moore's politics?"
+
+"Those of a tradesman," returned the rector; "narrow, selfish, and
+unpatriotic."
+
+"He looks a gentleman, and it pleases me to think he is such."
+
+"And decidedly he is," joined in Caroline, in distinct tones.
+
+"You are his friend, at any rate," said Shirley, flashing a searching
+glance at the speaker.
+
+"I am both his friend and relative."
+
+"I like that romantic Hollow with all my heart--the old mill, and the
+white cottage, and the counting-house."
+
+"And the trade?" inquired the rector.
+
+"Half my income comes from the works in that Hollow."
+
+"Don't enter into partnership, that's all."
+
+"You've put it into my head!" she exclaimed, with a joyous laugh. "It
+will never get out; thank you."
+
+Some days later, the new friends were walking together towards the
+rectory when the talk turned on the qualities which prove that a man can
+be trusted.
+
+"Do you know what soothsayers I would consult?" asked Caroline.
+
+"Let me hear."
+
+"Neither man nor woman, elderly nor young; the little Irish beggar that
+comes barefoot to my door; the mouse that steals out of the cranny in
+the wainscot; the bird that, in frost and snow, pecks at the window for
+a crumb. I know somebody to whose knee the black cat loves to climb,
+against whose shoulder and cheek it loves to purr. The old dog always
+comes out of his kennel and wags his tail when somebody passes."
+
+"Is it Robert?"
+
+"It is Robert."
+
+"Handsome fellow!" said Shirley, with enthusiasm. "He is both graceful
+and good."
+
+"I was sure that you would see that he was. When I first looked at your
+face I knew that you would."
+
+"I was well inclined to him before I saw him; I liked him when I did see
+him; I admire him now."
+
+When they kissed each other and parted at the rectory gate, Shirley
+said:
+
+"Caroline Helstone, I have never in my whole life been able to talk to a
+young lady as I have talked to you this morning."
+
+"This is the worst passage I have come to yet," said Caroline to
+herself. "Still, I was prepared for it. I gave Robert up to Shirley the
+first day I heard she was come."
+
+
+_III.--Caroline Finds a Mother_
+
+
+The Whitsuntide school treats were being held, and it was Shirley
+Keeldar who, at the head of the tea-table, kept a place for Robert
+Moore, and whose temper became clouded when he was late. When he did
+come he was hard and preoccupied, and presently the two girls noticed he
+was shaking hands and renewing a broken friendship with a militant
+rector in the playing field, and that the more vigorous of their
+manufacturing neighbours had gathered in a group to talk.
+
+"There is some mystery afloat," said Shirley. "Some event is expected,
+some preparation to be made; and Robert's secrecy vexes me. See, they
+are all shaking hands with emphasis, as if ratifying some league."
+
+"We must be on the alert," said Caroline, "and perhaps we shall find a
+clue."
+
+Later, the rector came to them to mention that he would not sleep at
+home that night, and Shirley had better stay with Caroline--arrangements
+which they could not but connect with a glimpse of martial scarlet they
+had observed on a distant moor earlier in the day, and the passage, by a
+quiet route, of six cavalry soldiers.
+
+So the girls sat up that night and watched, until, close upon midnight,
+they heard the tramp of hundreds of marching feet. The mob halted by the
+rectory for a muttered consultation, and then moved cautiously along
+towards the Hollow's Mill.
+
+In vain did the two watchers try to cross to the mill by fenced fields
+and give the alarm. When they reached a point from which they could
+overlook the mill, the attack had already begun, and the yard-gates were
+being forced. A volley of stones smashed every window, but the mill
+remained mute as a mausoleum.
+
+"He cannot be alone," whispered Caroline.
+
+"I would stake all I have that he is as little alone as he is alarmed,"
+responded Shirley.
+
+Shots were discharged by the rioters. Had the defenders waited for this
+signal? It seemed so. The inert mill woke, and a volley of musketry
+pealed sharp through the Hollow. It was difficult in the darkness to
+distinguish what was going on now. The mill yard was full of
+battle-movement; there was struggling, rushing, trampling, and shouting,
+and then the rioters, who had never dreamed of encountering an organised
+defence, fell back defeated, but leaving the premises a blot of
+desolation on the fresh front of the summer dawn.
+
+Caroline Helstone now fell into a state of depression and physical
+weakness which she tried in vain to combat.
+
+"It is scarcely living to measure time as I do at the rectory," she
+confessed one day to Mrs. Pryor, who had become her instructress and
+friend. "The hours pass, and I get over them somehow, but I do not live
+I endure existence, but I barely enjoy it. I want to go away from this
+place and forget it."
+
+"You know I am at present residing with Miss Keeldar in the capacity of
+companion," Mrs. Pryor replied. "Should she marry, and that she will
+marry ere long many circumstances induce me to conclude, I shall cease
+to be necessary to her. I possess a small independency, arising partly
+from my own savings and partly from a legacy. Whenever I leave Fieldhead
+I shall take a house of my own. I have no relations to invite to close
+intimacy. To you, my dear, I need not say I am attached. With you I am
+happier than I have been with any living thing. You will come to me
+then, Caroline?"
+
+"Indeed, I love you," was the reply, "and I should like to live with
+you."
+
+"All I have I would leave to you."
+
+"But, my dear madam, I have no claim on this generosity--"
+
+Mrs. Pryor now displayed such agitation that it was Caroline who had to
+become comforter.
+
+The sequel to this scene appeared when Caroline sank into so weak a
+state that constant nursing was needed, and Mrs. Pryor established
+herself at the rectory.
+
+One day, when the watchful nurse could not forbear to weep--her full
+heart overflowing--her patient asked:
+
+"Do you think I shall not get better? I do not feel very ill--only
+weak."
+
+"But your mind, Caroline; your mind is crushed; your heart is broken;
+you have been left so desolate."
+
+"I sometimes think if an abundant gush of happiness came on me, I could
+revive yet."
+
+"You love me, Caroline?"
+
+"Inexpressibly. I sometimes feel as if I could almost grow to your
+heart."
+
+"Then, if you love me so, it will be neither shock nor pain for you to
+know that you are my own child."
+
+"Mrs. Pryor! That is--that means--you have adopted me?"
+
+"It means that I am your true mother."
+
+"But Mrs. James Helstone--but my father's wife, whom I do not remember
+to have seen, she is my mother?"
+
+"She is your mother," Mrs. Pryor assured her. "James Helstone was my
+husband."
+
+"Is what I hear true? Is it no dream? My own mother! And one I can be so
+fond of! If you are my mother, the world is all changed to me."
+
+The offspring nestled to the parent, who gathered her to her bosom,
+covered her with noiseless kisses, and murmured love over her like a
+cushat fostering its young.
+
+
+_IV.--An Old Acquaintance_
+
+
+An uncle of Shirley Keeldar, Sympson by name, now came with his family
+to stay at Feidhead, and accompanying them, as tutor to a crippled son
+Harry, was Louis Moore, Robert's younger brother.
+
+"Shirley," said Caroline one day as they sat in the summer-house, "you
+are a singular being. I thought I knew you quite well; I begin to find
+myself mistaken. Did you know that my cousin Louis was tutor in your
+uncle's family before the Sympsons came down here?"
+
+"Yes, of course; I knew it well."
+
+"How chanced it that you never mentioned it to me?" asked Caroline. "You
+knew Mrs. Pryor was my mother, and were silent, and now here again is
+another secret."
+
+"I never made it a secret; you never asked me who Henry's tutor was, or
+I would have told you."
+
+"I am puzzled about more things than one in this matter. You don't like
+poor Louis--why? Do you wish that Robert's brother were more highly
+placed?"
+
+"Robert's brother, indeed!" was the exclamation in a tone of scorn, and,
+with a movement of proud impatience, Shirley snatched a rose from a
+branch peeping through the open lattice. "Robert's brother! Robert's
+brother is a topic on which you and I shall quarrel if we discuss it
+often; so drop it henceforth and for ever."
+
+She would have understood the meaning of that outburst better if she had
+heard a conversation in the schoolroom a few days later between Louis
+Moore and Shirley.
+
+"For two years," he was saying, "I had once a pupil who grew very dear
+to me. Henry is dear, but she was dearer. Henry never gives me trouble;
+she--well--she did. She spilled the draught from my cup; and having
+taken from me my peace of mind and ease of life, she took from me
+herself, quite coolly--just as if, when she was gone, the world would be
+all the same to me. At the end of two years it fell out that we
+encountered again. She received me haughtily; but then she was
+inconsistent: she tantalised as before. When I thought of her only as a
+lofty stranger, she would suddenly show me a glimpse of loving
+simplicity, warm me with such a beam of reviving sympathy that I could
+no more shut my heart to her image than I could close that door against
+her presence. Explain why she distressed me so."
+
+"She could not bear to be quite outcast," was the docile reply.
+
+Caroline would have understood still more could she have read what Louis
+Moore wrote in his diary that night: "What a child she is sometimes!
+What an unsophisticated, untaught thing! I worship her perfections; but
+it is her faults, or at least her foibles, that bring her near to me. If
+I were a king and she were a housemaid, my eye would recognise her
+qualities."
+
+Robert Moore had long been absent from Briarfield, and no one knew why
+he stayed away. It could not be that he was afraid, for he had shown the
+utmost fearlessness in bringing to justice and transportation the four
+ringleaders in the attack on the mill. He had now returned, and one day
+as he rode over Rushedge Moore from Stilbro' market with a bluff
+neighbour, he unbosomed himself of the reason why he had remained thus
+long from home.
+
+"I certainly believed she loved me," he said. "I have seen her eyes
+sparkle when she found me out in a crowd. When my name was uttered she
+changed countenance; I knew she did. She was cordial to me; she took an
+interest in me; she was anxious about me. I saw power in her; I owed her
+gratitude. She aided me substantially and effectively with a loan of
+five thousand pounds. Could I believe she loved me? With an admiration
+dedicated entirely to myself I smiled at her being the first to love and
+to show it. That whip of yours seems to have a good heavy handle. Knock
+me out of the saddle with it if you choose, for I never felt as if
+nature meant her to be my other and better self. Yet I walked up to
+Fieldhead and in a hard, firm fashion offered myself--my fine person--
+with all my debts, of course, as a settlement. There was no
+misunderstanding her aspect and voice as she indignantly ejaculated:
+'God bless me!' Her eyes lightened as she said: 'You have pained me; you
+have outraged me; you have deceived me. I did respect, I did admire, I
+did like you, and you would immolate me to that mill--your Moloch!' I
+was obliged to say, 'Forgive me!' To which she replied, 'I could if
+there was not myself to forgive too, but to mislead a sagacious man so
+far I must have done wrong.' She added, 'I am sorry for what has
+happened.' So was I, God knows."
+
+It was after this talk that Moore was shot down by a concealed assassin.
+
+
+_V.--Love Scenes_
+
+
+On the very night that Robert Moore arrived at his cottage in the
+Hollow, after being nursed back to life in the house of the neighbour
+who was with him when he was shot by a fanatical revolutionist, he
+scribbled a note to ask his cousin Caroline to call, as was her wont
+before the days of misunderstanding.
+
+"Caroline, you look as if you had heard good tidings," said Robert.
+"What is the source of the sunshine I perceive about you?"
+
+"For one thing, I am happy in mamma. I love her more tenderly every day.
+And I am glad you are better, and that we are friends."
+
+"Cary, I mean to tell you some day a thing about myself that is not to
+my credit. I cannot bear that you should think better of me than I
+deserve."
+
+"But I believe I know all about it. I inferred something, gathered more
+from rumour, and made out the rest by instinct."
+
+"I wanted to marry Shirley for the sake of her money, and she refused me
+scornfully; you needn't prick your fingers with your needle, that is the
+plain truth--and I had not an emotion of tenderness for her."
+
+"Then, Robert, it was very wicked in you to want to marry her."
+
+"And very mean, my little pastor; but, Cary, I had no love to give--no
+heart that I could call my own."
+
+It is Louis who is once more speaking to Shirley in the schoolroom.
+
+"For the first time, Shirley, I stand before you--myself. I fling off
+the tutor and introduce you to the man. My pupil."
+
+"My master," was the low answer.
+
+"I have to tell you that for five years you have been growing into your
+tutor's heart, and that you are rooted there now. I have to declare that
+you have bewitched me, in spite of sense and experience, and difference
+of station and estate, and that I love you with all my life and
+strength."
+
+"Dear Louis, be faithful to me; never leave me. I don't care for life
+unless I pass it at your side." She looked up with a sweet, open,
+earnest countenance. "Teach me and help me to be good. Show me how to
+sustain my part. Your judgment is well-balanced; your heart is kind; I
+know you are wise. Be my companion through life, my guide where I am
+ignorant, my master where I am faulty."
+
+The Orders in Council are repealed, the blockaded ports are thrown open,
+and the ringers in Briarfield belfry crack a bell that remains dissonant
+to this day. Caroline Helstone is in the garden listening to this call
+to be gay when a hand steals quietly round her waist.
+
+"Caroline," says a manly voice. "I have sought you for an audience. The
+repeal of the Orders in Council saves me. Now I shall not turn bankrupt,
+now I shall be no longer poor, now I can pay my debts; now all the cloth
+I have in my warehouses will be taken off my hands. This day lays my
+fortune on a foundation on which for the first time I can securely
+build."
+
+"Your heavy difficulties are lifted?"
+
+"They are lifted; I breathe; I can act. Now I can take more workmen,
+give better wages, be less selfish. Now, Caroline, I can have a home
+that is truly mine, and seek a wife. Will Caroline forget all I have
+made her suffer; forget my poor ambition; my sordid schemes? Will she
+let me prove I can love faithfully? Is Caroline mine?"
+
+His hand was in hers still, and a gentle pressure answered him,
+"Caroline is yours."
+
+"I love you, Robert," she said simply, and mutely offered a kiss, an
+offer of which he took unfair advantage.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+Villette
+
+      Villette is Brussels, and the experiences of the heroine,
+     Lucy Snowe, in travelling thither and teaching there are based
+     on the journeys and the life of Charlotte Brontë when she was
+     a teacher in the Pensionnat Héger. The principal characters in
+     the story have been identified, more or less completely, with
+     people whom the writer knew. Paul Emanuel resembles M. Héger
+     in many ways, and Madame Beck is a severe portrait of Madame
+     Héger. Dr. John Graham Bretton is a reflection of George
+     Smith, Charlotte Brontë's friendly publisher; and Mrs. Bretton
+     is Mr. Smith's mother. Lucy Snowe is Jane Eyre, otherwise
+     Charlotte Brontë, placed amidst different surroundings; and
+     Ginevra Fanshawe was sketched from one of the pupils in
+     Héger's school. The materials used in "Villette" were taken,
+     in part, from an earlier work, "The Professor," which suffered
+     rejection nine times at the hands of publishers. Though there
+     was similarity of scene, and in some degree of subject, the
+     two books are in no way identical. "Villette" was published on
+     January 24, 1853, and achieved an immediate success. It was
+     felt to have more movement and force than "Shirley," and less
+     of the crudeness that accompanied the strength of "Jane Eyre."
+
+
+
+_I.--Little Miss Caprice_
+
+
+My godmother lived in a handsome house in the ancient town of Bretton--
+the widow of Bretton--and there I, Lucy Snowe, visited her about twice a
+year, and liked the visit well, for time flowed smoothly for me at her
+side, like the gliding of a full river through a verdant plain.
+
+During one of my visits I was told that the little daughter of a distant
+relation of my godmother was coming to be my companion, and well do I
+remember the rainy night when, outside the opened door, we saw the
+servant Waren with a shawled bundle in his arms and a nurse-girl by his
+side.
+
+"Put me down, please," said a small voice. "Take off the shawl; give it
+to Harriet, and she can put it away."
+
+The child who gave these orders was a tiny, neat little figure, delicate
+as wax, and like a mere doll, though she was six years of age.
+
+Mrs. Bretton drew the little stranger to her when they had entered the
+drawing-room, kissed her, and asked: "What is my little one's name?"
+
+"Polly, papa calls her," was the reply.
+
+"And will Polly be content to live with me?"
+
+"Not always; but till papa comes home." Her eyes filled with tears, and,
+drawing away from Mrs. Bretton, she added: "I can sit on a stool."
+
+Her emotion at finding herself among strangers was, however, only
+expressed by the tiniest occasional sniff, and presently the managing
+little body remarked:
+
+"Harriet, I must be put to bed. Ask if you sleep with me."
+
+"No, missy," said the nurse; "you are to share this young lady's
+room"--designating me.
+
+"I wish you, ma'am, good-night," said the little creature to Mrs.
+Bretton; but she passed me mute.
+
+"Good-night, Polly," I said.
+
+"No need to say good-night, since we sleep in the same chamber," was the
+reply.
+
+Paulina Home's father was obliged to travel to recruit his health, and
+her mother being dead, Mrs. Bretton had offered to take temporary charge
+of the child.
+
+During the two months Paulina stayed with us, the one member of the
+household who reconciled her to absence from her father was John Graham
+Bretton, Mrs. Bretton's only child, a handsome, whimsical youth of
+sixteen. He began by treating her with mock seriousness as a person of
+consideration, and before long was more than the Grand Turk in her
+estimation; indeed, when a letter came from her father on the Continent,
+asking that his little girl might join him there, we wondered how she
+would take the news. I found her in the drawing-room engaged with a
+picture-book.
+
+"Miss Snowe," said she, "this is a wonderful book. It was given me by
+Graham. It tells of distant countries."
+
+"Polly," I interrupted, "should you like to travel?"
+
+"Not just yet," was the prudent answer; "but perhaps when I am grown a
+woman I may travel with Graham."
+
+"But would you like to travel now if your papa was with you?"
+
+"What is the good of talking in that silly way?" said she. "What is papa
+to you? I was just beginning to be happy."
+
+Then I told her of the letter, and the tidings kept her serious the
+whole day. When Graham came home in the evening, she whispered, as she
+heard him in the hall: "Tell him by-and-by; tell him I am going."
+
+But Graham, who was preoccupied about some school prize, had to be told
+twice before the news took proper hold of his attention. "Polly going?"
+he said. "What a pity! Dear little Mouse, I shall be sorry to lose her;
+she must come to us again."
+
+On going to bed, I found the child wide awake, and in what she called
+"dreadful misery!"
+
+"Paulina," I said, "you should not grieve that Graham does not care for
+you so much as you care for him. It must be so."
+
+Her questioning eyes asked why.
+
+"Because he is a boy and you are a girl; he is sixteen and you are only
+six; his nature is strong and gay, and yours is otherwise."
+
+"But I love him so much. He should love me a little."
+
+"He does. He is fond of you; you are his favourite."
+
+"Am I Graham's favourite?"
+
+"Yes, more than any little child I know."
+
+The assurance soothed her, and she smiled in her anguish. As I warmed
+the shivering, capricious little creature in my arms I wondered how she
+would battle with life, and bear its shocks, repulses, and humiliations.
+
+
+_II.--Madame Beck's School_
+
+
+The next eight years of my life brought changes. My own household and
+that of the Brettons suffered wreck. My friends went abroad and were
+lost sight of, and I, after a period of companionship with a woman of
+fortune, found myself, at her death, with fifteen pounds in my pocket
+looking for a new place. Then it was that I saw mentally within reach
+what I had never yet beheld with my bodily eyes--I saw London.
+
+When I awoke there next morning, my spirit shook its always fettered
+wings half loose. I had a feeling as if I were at last about to taste
+life. In that morning my soul grew as fast as Jonah's gourd. I wandered
+whither chance might lead in a still ecstasy of freedom and enjoyment.
+
+That evening I formed a project of crossing to a continental port, and
+finding a vessel was about to start, I joined her at once in the river.
+When the packet sailed at sunrise, I found the only passenger on board
+to whom I cared to speak--and who, indeed, insisted on speaking to
+me--was a girl of seventeen on her way to school in the city of
+Villette. Miss Ginevra Fanshawe carelessly ran on with a full account of
+herself, her school at Madame Beck's, her poverty at home, her education
+by her godfather, De Bassompièrre, who lived in France, her want of
+accomplishments--except that she could talk, play, and dance--and the
+need for her to marry a rather elderly gentleman with cash.
+
+It was this irresponsible talk, no doubt, that led me, in the absence of
+any other leading, to make Villette my destination. On my arrival there,
+an English gentleman, young, distinguished, and handsome, observing my
+inability to make myself understood at the bureau where the diligence
+stopped, inquired kindly if I had any friends in the city, and on my
+replying that I had not, gave me the address of such an inn as I wanted,
+and personally directed me part of the way. Even then, however, I failed
+in the gloom to find the inn, and was becoming quite exhausted, when
+over the door of a house, loftier by a storey than those around it, I
+saw a brass plate with the inscription, "Pensionnat de Demoiselles,"
+and, beneath, the name, "Madame Beck." Providence said: "Stop here; this
+is your inn." I rang the door-bell.
+
+"May I see Madame Beck?" I inquired of the servant who opened the door.
+As I spoke in English I was admitted without a moment's hesitation.
+
+I sat, turning hot and cold, in a glittering salon for a quarter of an
+hour, and then a voice said: "You ayre Engliss?"
+
+The question came from a motherly, dumpy little woman in a large shawl,
+a wrapping gown, a clean, trim nightcap, and shod with the shoes of
+silence.
+
+As I told my story, through a mistress who had been summoned to
+translate the speech of Albion, I thought the tale won madame's ear,
+though never a gleam of sympathy crossed her countenance. A man's step
+was heard in the vestibule, hastily proceeding to the outer door.
+
+"Who goes out now?" demanded Madame Beck, listening to the tread.
+
+"M. Paul Emanuel," replied the teacher.
+
+"The very man! Call him."
+
+He entered: a small, dark, and square man, in spectacles.
+
+"_Mon cousin_," began madame, "read that countenance."
+
+The little man fixed on me his spectacles, a gathering of the brows
+seeming to say that a veil would be no veil to him.
+
+"Do you need her services?" he asked.
+
+"I could do with them," said Madame Beck.
+
+"Engage her." And with a _ban soir_ this sudden arbiter of my destiny
+vanished.
+
+Madame Beck possessed high administrative powers. She ruled a hundred
+and twenty pupils, four teachers, eight masters, six servants and three
+children, and managed the pupils' parents and friends to perfection,
+without apparent effort. "Surveillance," "espionage"--these were the
+watchwords of her system. She knew what honesty was, and liked it--when
+it did not obtrude its clumsy scruples in the way of her will and
+interest. Wise, firm, faithless, secret, crafty, passionless, watchful
+and inscrutable--withal perfectly decorous--what more could be desired?
+
+Not a soul in all Madame Beck's house, from the scullion to the
+directress herself, but was above being ashamed of a lie; they thought
+nothing of it.
+
+Here Miss Ginevra Fanshawe was a thriving pupil. She had a considerable
+range of acquaintances outside the school, for Mrs. Cholmondeley, her
+chaperon, a gay, fashionable lady, took her to evening parties at the
+houses of her acquaintances. Soon I discovered by hints that ardent
+admiration, perhaps genuine love, was at the command of this pretty and
+charming, but by no means refined, girl. She called her suitor
+"Isidore," and bragged about the vehemence of his attachment. I asked
+her if she loved him in return.
+
+"He is handsome; he loves me to distraction; and so I am amused," was
+the reply.
+
+"But if he loves you, and it comes to nothing in the end, he will be
+miserable."
+
+"Of course he will break his heart. I should be disappointed if he
+didn't."
+
+"Do try to get a clear idea of the state of your own mind," I said, "for
+to me it really seems as chaotic as a rag-bag."
+
+"It is something in this fashion. He thinks far more of me than I find
+it convenient to be, while I am more at ease with you, you old cross-
+patch, you who know me to be coquettish and ignorant and fickle."
+
+"You love M. Isidore far more than you think or will avow."
+
+"No. I danced with a young officer the other night whom I love a
+thousand times more than he. Colonel Alfred de Hamal suits me far
+better. _Vive les joies et les plaisirs_!"
+
+It was as English teacher that I was engaged at Madame Beck's school,
+but the annual fête brought me into prominence in another capacity. The
+programme included a dramatic performance, with pupils and teachers for
+actors, and this was given under the superintendence of M. Paul Emanuel.
+I was dressed a couple of hours before anyone else, and reading in my
+classroom, the door was flung open, and in came M. Paul with a burst of
+execrable jargon: "Mees, play you must; I am planted here."
+
+"What can I do for you?" I inquired.
+
+"Play you must. I will not have you shrink, or frown, or make the prude.
+Let us thrust to the wall all reluctance."
+
+What did the little man mean?
+
+"Listen!" he said. "The case shall be stated, and you shall answer me
+'Yes' or 'No.' Louise Vanderkelkov has fallen ill--at least, so her
+ridiculous mother asserts. She is charged with a rôle; without that rôle
+the play stopped. Englishwomen are either the best or the worst of their
+sex. I apply to an Englishwoman to save me. What is her answer--'Yes,'
+or 'No'?"
+
+Seeing in his vexed, fiery and searching eye an appeal behind its
+menace, my lips dropped the word "Oui."
+
+His rigid countenance relaxed with a quiver of content; then he went on:
+
+"Here is the book. Here is your rôle. You must withdraw." He conveyed me
+to the attic, locked me in, and took away the key.
+
+What I felt that successful night, and what I did, I no more expected to
+feel and do than to be lifted in a trance to the seventh heaven. A keen
+relish for dramatic expression revealed itself as part of my nature. But
+the strength of longing must be put by; and I put it by, and fastened it
+in with the lock of a resolution which neither time nor temptation has
+since picked.
+
+It was at this school fête that I discovered the identity of Miss
+Fanshawe's M. Isidore. She whispered to me, after the play: "Isidore and
+Alfred de Hamal are both here!" The latter I found was a straight-nosed,
+correct-featured little dandy, nicely dressed, curled, booted, and
+gloved; and Isidore was the manly English Dr. John, who attended the
+pupils of the school, and was none other than the gentleman whose
+directions to an hotel I had failed to follow on the night of my arrival
+in Villette. And the puppet, the manikin--a mere lackey for Dr. John,
+his valet, his foot-boy, was the favoured admirer of Ginevra Fanshawe!
+
+
+_III.--Old Friends are Best_
+
+
+During the long vacation I stayed at the school, and, in the absence of
+companionship and the sedative of work, suffered such agonising
+depression as led to physical illness, until one evening, after
+wandering aimlessly in the city, I fell fainting as I tried to reach the
+porch of a great church. When I recovered consciousness, I found myself
+in a room that smiled "Auld lang syne" out of every nook.
+
+Where was I? The furniture was that with which I had been so intimate in
+the drawing-room of my godmother's house at Bretton. Nay, there, on the
+linen of my bed, were my godmothers initials "L.L.B."; and there was the
+portrait that used to hang over the mantelpiece in the breakfast-room in
+the old house at Bretton. I audibly pronounced the name--"Graham!"
+
+"Graham!" echoed a sudden voice at my bedside. "Do you want Graham?"
+
+She was little changed; something sterner, something more robust, but it
+was my godmother, Mrs. Bretton.
+
+"How was I found, madam?"
+
+"My son shall tell you by and by," said she. "I am told you are an
+English teacher in a foreign school here."
+
+Before evening I was downstairs, and seated in a corner, when Graham
+arrived home, and entered with the question: "How is your patient,
+mamma?"
+
+At Mrs. Bretton's invitation, I came forward to speak for myself where
+he stood at the hearth, a figure justifying his mother's pride.
+
+"Much better," I said calmly; "much better, I thank you Dr. John."
+
+For this tall young man, this host of mine, was Dr. John, and I had been
+aware of his identity for some time.
+
+Ere we had sat ten minutes, I caught the eye of Mrs. Bretton fixed
+steadily on me, and at last she asked, "Tell me, Graham, of whom does
+this young lady remind you."
+
+"Dr. John has had so much to do and think of," said I, seeing how it
+must end, "that it never occurred to me as possible that he should
+recognise Lucy Snowe."
+
+"Lucy Snowe! I thought so! I knew it!" cried Mrs. Bretton, as she
+stepped across the hearth and kissed me. And I wondered if Mrs. Bretton
+knew at whose feet her idolised son had laid his homage.
+
+
+_IV.--A Cure for First Love_
+
+
+The Brettons, who had regained some of their fortune, lived in a château
+outside Villette, a course further warranted by Dr. John's professional
+success. In the months, that followed I heard much of Ginevra. He
+thought her so fair, so good, so innocent, and yet, though love is
+blind, I saw sometimes a subtle ray sped sideways from his eye that half
+led me to think his professed persuasion of Miss Fanshawe's naïveté was
+in part assumed.
+
+One morning my godmother decreed that we should go with Graham to a
+concert that night, at which the most advanced pupils of the
+conservatoire were to perform. There, in the suite of the British
+embassy, was Ginevra Fanshawe, seated by the daughter of an English
+peer. I noticed that she looked quite steadily at Dr. John, and then
+raised a glass to examine his mother, and a minute or two afterwards
+laughingly whispered to her neighbour.
+
+"Miss Fanshawe is here," I whispered. "Have you noticed her?"
+
+"Oh yes," was the reply; "and I happen to know her companion, who is a
+proud girl, but not in the least insolent; and I doubt whether Ginevra
+will have gained ground in her estimation by making a butt of her
+neighbours."
+
+"What neighbours?"
+
+"Myself and my mother. As for me, it is very natural; but my mother! I
+never saw her ridiculed before. Through me she could not in ten years
+have done what in a moment she has done through my mother."
+
+Never before had I seen so much fire and so little sunshine in Dr.
+John's blue eyes.
+
+"My mother shall not be ridiculed with my consent, or without my scorn,"
+he added. "Mother," said he to her later, "You are better to me than ten
+wives." And when we were out in the keen night air, he said to himself:
+"Thank you, Miss Fanshawe. I am glad you laughed at my mother. That
+sneer did me a world of good."
+
+
+_V.--Reunion Completed_
+
+
+One evening in December Dr. Bretton called to take me to the theatre in
+place of his mother, who had been prevented by an arrival. In the course
+of the performance a cry of "Fire!" rang out, and a panic ensued. Graham
+remained quite cool until he saw a young girl struck from her
+protector's arms and hurled under the feet of the crowd. Then he rushed
+forward, thrust back the throng with the assistance of the gentleman--a
+powerful man, though grey-haired--and bore the girl into the fresh
+night, I following him closely.
+
+"She is very light," he said; "like a child."
+
+"I am not a child! I am a person of seventeen!" responded his burden,
+demurely.
+
+Her father's carriage drove up, and Graham, having introduced himself as
+an English doctor, we drove to the hotel where father and daughter were
+staying in handsome apartments. The injuries were not dangerous, and the
+father, after earnestly expressing his obligations to Graham, asked him
+to call the next day.
+
+When next I visited the Bretton's château I found an intruder in the
+room I had occupied during my illness.
+
+"Miss de Bassompièrre, I pronounced, recognising the rescued lady, whose
+name I had heard on the night of the accident.
+
+"No," was the reply. "Not Miss de Bassompièrre to you." Then, as I
+seemed at fault, she added: "You have forgotten, then, that I have sat
+on your knee, been lifted in your arms, even shared your pillow. I am
+Paulina Mary Home de Bassompièrre."
+
+I often visited Mary de Bassompièrre with pleasure. That young lady had
+different moods for different people. With her father she was even now a
+child. With me she was serious and womanly. With Mrs. Bretton she was
+docile and reliant. With Graham she was shy--very shy. At moments she
+tried to be cold, and, on occasion, she endeavoured to shun him. Even
+her father noticed this demeanour in her, and asked her what her old
+friend had done.
+
+"Nothing," she replied; "but we are grown strange to each other."
+
+I became apprised of the return of M. de Bassompièrre and Paulina, after
+a few weeks' absence in Paris, by seeing them riding before me in a
+quiet boulevard with Dr. Bretton. How animated was Graham's face! How
+true, yet how retiring the joy it expressed! They parted. He passed me
+at speed, hardly feeling the earth he skimmed, and seeing nothing on
+either hand.
+
+It was after this that she made me her confession of love, and of fear
+lest her father should be grieved.
+
+"I wish papa knew! I do wish papa knew!" began now to be her anxious
+murmur; but it was M. de Bassompièrre who first broached the subject of
+his daughter's affections, and it was to me that he introduced it. She
+came into the room while we talked and Graham followed.
+
+"Take her, John Bretton," he said, "and may God deal with you as you
+deal with her!"
+
+
+_VI.--A Professor's Love-Story_
+
+
+The pupils from the schools of the city were assembled for the yearly
+prize distribution--a ceremony followed by an oration from one of the
+professors. I think I was glad when M. Paul appeared behind the crimson
+desk, fierce and frank, dark and candid, testy and fearless, for then I
+knew that neither formalism nor flattery would be the doom of the
+audience.
+
+On Monsieur's birthday it was the habit of the scholars to present him
+with flowers, and I had worked a beaded watch-chain, and enclosed it in
+a sparkling shell-box, with his initials graved on the lid. He entered
+that day in a mood that made him as good as a sunbeam, and each pupil
+presented her bouquet, till he was hidden at his desk behind a pile of
+flowers. I waited. Then he demanded thrice, in tragic tones: "Is that
+all?" The effect was ludicrous, and the time for my presentation had
+passed. Thereupon he fell, with furious abuse, upon the English, and
+particularly English women. But I presented the chain to him later, and
+that day closed for us both with a wordless content, so full was he of
+friendliness.
+
+The professor's care for me took curious forms. He haunted my desk with
+unseen gift-bringing--the newest books, the correction of exercises, the
+concealment of bonbons, of which he was fond.
+
+One day he asked me whether, if I were his sister, I should always be
+content to stay with a brother such as he. I said I believed I should.
+He continued: "If I were to go beyond seas for two or three years,
+should you welcome me on my return?"
+
+"Monsieur, how could I live in the interval?" was my reply.
+
+The explanation of that question soon came. He had, it seemed, to sail
+to Basseterre, in Guadeloupe, to attend to a friend's business
+interests. For what I felt there was no help, and how could I help
+feeling?
+
+Of late he had spent hours with me, with temper soothed, with eye
+content, with manner home-like and mild. The mutual understanding was
+settling and fixing. And when the time came for him to say good-bye, we
+rambled forth into the city. He talked of his voyage. What did I propose
+to do in his absence? He did not like leaving me at Madame Beck's--I
+should be so desolate.
+
+We were now returning from our walk, when, passing a small but pleasant
+and neat abode in a clean _faubourg_, he took a key from his pocket,
+opened, and entered. "_Voici!_" he cried, and put a prospectus in my
+hand. "Externat de demoiselles. Numéro 7, Faubourg Clotilde. Directrice,
+Mademoiselle Lucy Snowe."
+
+"Now," said he, "you shall live here and have a school. You shall employ
+yourself while I am away; you shall think of me; you shall mind your
+health and happiness for my sake, and when I come back----"
+
+I touched his hand with my lips. Royal to me had been its bounty.
+
+And now three years are past. M. Emanuel's return is fixed. He is to be
+with me ere the mists of November come. My school flourishes; my house
+is ready.
+
+But the skies hang full and dark--a wrack sails from the west. Peace,
+peace, Banshee--"keening" at every window. The storm did not cease till
+the Atlantic was strewn with wrecks. Peace, be still! Oh, a thousand
+weepers, praying in agony on waiting shores, listened for that voice;
+but when the sun returned, his light was night to some!
+
+Here pause. Enough is said. Trouble no kind heart. Leave sunny
+imaginations hope. Let them picture union and a happy life.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+EMILY BRONTË
+
+
+Wuthering Heights
+
+      "That chainless soul," Emily Jane Brontë, was born at
+     Thornton, Yorkshire, England, on August 30, 1818, and died at
+     Haworth on December 19, 1848. She will always have a place in
+     English literature by reason of her one weird, powerful,
+     strained novel, "Wuthering Heights," and a few poems. Emily
+     Brontë, like her sister Charlotte, was educated at Cowan
+     School and at Brussels. For a time she became a governess, but
+     it seemed impossible for her to live away from the fascination
+     of the Yorkshire moors, and she went home to keep house at the
+     Haworth Parsonage, while her sisters taught. Two months after
+     the publication of "Jane Eyre" by Charlotte, that is, in
+     December, 1847, "Wuthering Heights," by Emily, and "Agnes
+     Grey," by Anne, the third sister in this remarkable trio, were
+     issued in one volume. The critics, who did not discover these
+     books were by women, suggested persistently that "Wuthering
+     Heights" must be an immature work by Currer Bell (Charlotte).
+     A year after the publication of her novel Emily died, unaware
+     of her success in achieving a lasting, if restricted, fame.
+     She was extraordinarily reserved, sensitive, and wayward, and
+     lived in an imagined world of her own, morbidly influenced, no
+     doubt, by the vagaries of her worthless brother Branwell. That
+     she had true genius, allied with fine strength of intellect
+     and character, is the unanimous verdict of competent
+     criticism, while it grieves over unfulfilled possibilities.
+
+
+_I.--A Surly Brood_
+
+
+"Mr. Heathcliff?"
+
+A nod was the answer.
+
+"Mr. Lockwood, your new tenant at Thrushcross Grange, sir."
+
+"Walk in." But the invitation, uttered with closed teeth, expressed the
+sentiment "Go to the deuce!" And it was not till my horse's breast
+fairly pushed the barrier that he put out his hand to unchain it. I felt
+interested in a man who seemed more exaggeratedly reserved than myself
+as he preceded me up the causeway, calling, "Joseph, take Mr. Lockwood's
+horse; and bring up some wine."
+
+Joseph was an old man, very old, though hale and sinewy. "The Lord help
+us!" he soliloquised in an undertone as he relieved me of my horse.
+
+Wuthering Heights, Mr. Heathcliff's dwelling, is a farmhouse on an
+exposed and stormy edge, its name being significant of atmospheric
+tumult. Its owner is a dark-skinned gipsy in aspect, in dress and
+manners a gentleman, with erect and handsome figure, but morose
+demeanour. One step from the outside brought us into the family
+living-room, the recesses of which were haunted by a huge liver-coloured
+bitch pointer, with a swarm of squealing puppies, and other dogs. As the
+bitch sneaked wolfishly to the back of my legs I attempted to caress
+her, an action that provoked a long, guttural growl.
+
+"You'd better let the dog alone," growled Mr. Heathcliff in unison, as
+he checked her with a punch of his foot. "She's not accustomed to be
+spoiled."
+
+As Joseph was mumbling indistinctly in the depths of the cellar, and
+gave no sign of ascending, his master dived down to him, leaving me
+_vis-à-vis_ with the ruffianly bitch and half a dozen four-footed fiends
+that suddenly broke into a fury, while I parried off the attack with a
+poker and called aloud for assistance.
+
+"What the devil is the matter?" asked Heathcliff, as he returned.
+
+"What the devil, indeed!" I muttered. "You might as well leave a
+stranger with a brood of tigers!"
+
+"They won't meddle with persons who touch nothing," he remarked. "The
+dogs are right to be vigilant. Take a glass of wine."
+
+Before I went home I determined to volunteer another visit to my sulky
+landlord, though evidently he wished for no repetition of my intrusion.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Yesterday I again visited Wuthering Heights, my nearest neighbours to
+Thrushcross Grange. On that bleak hill-top the earth was hard with a
+black frost, and the air made me shiver through every limb. As I knocked
+for admittance, till my knuckles tingled and the dogs howled, vinegar-
+faced Joseph projected his head from a round window of the barn, and
+shouted to me.
+
+"What are ye for? T' maister's down i' t' fowld. There's nobbut t'
+missis. I'll hae no hend wi't," muttered the head, vanishing.
+
+Then a young man, without coat and shouldering a pitchfork, hailed me to
+follow him, and showed me into the apartment where I had been formerly
+received with a gruff "Sit down; he'll be in soon."
+
+In the room sat the "missis," motionless and mute. She was slender,
+scarcely past girlhood, with the most exquisite little face I have ever
+had the pleasure of beholding; and her eyes, had they been agreeable in
+expression, would have been irresistible. But the only sentiment they
+evinced hovered between scorn and a kind of desperation. As for the
+young man who had brought me in, he slung on his person a shabby jacket,
+and, erecting himself before the fire, gazed down on me from the corner
+of his eyes as if there was some mortal feud unavenged between us. The
+entrance of Heathcliff relieved me from an uncomfortable state.
+
+I found in the course of the tea which followed that the lady was the
+widow of Heathcliff's son, and that the rustic youth who sat down to the
+meal with us was Hareton Earnshaw. Now, before passing the threshold, I
+had noticed over the principal door, among a wilderness of crumbling
+griffins and shameless little boys, the name "Hareton Earnshaw" and the
+date "1500." Evidently the place had a history.
+
+The snow had fallen so deeply since I entered the house that return
+across the moor in the dusk was impossible.
+
+Spending that night at Wuthering Heights on an old-fashioned couch that
+filled a recess, or closet, in a disused chamber, I found, scratched on
+the paint many times, the names "Catherine Earnshaw," "Catherine
+Heathcliff," and again "Catherine Linton." There were many books in the
+room in a dilapidated state, and, being unable to sleep, I examined
+them. Some of them bore the inscription "Catherine Earnshaw, her book";
+and on the blank leaves and margins, scrawled in a childish hand, was a
+regular diary. I read: "Hindley is detestable. Heathcliff and I are
+going to rebel.... How little did I dream Hindley would ever make me cry
+so! Poor Heathcliff! Hindley calls him a vagabond, and won't let him sit
+or eat with us any more."
+
+When I slept I was harrowed by nightmare, and next morning I gladly left
+the house; and, piloted by my landlord across the billowy white ocean of
+the moor, I reached the Grange benumbed with cold and as feeble as a
+kitten from fatigue.
+
+When my housekeeper, Mrs. Nelly Dean, brought in my supper that night I
+asked her why Heathcliff let the Grange and preferred living in a
+residence so much inferior.
+
+"He's rich enough to live in a finer house than this," said Mrs. Dean;
+"but he's very close-handed. Young Mrs. Heathcliff is my late master's
+daughter--Catherine Linton was her maiden name, and I nursed her, poor
+thing. Hareton Earnshaw is her cousin, and the last of an old family."
+
+"The master, Heathcliff, must have had some ups and downs to make him
+such a churl. Do you know anything of his history?"
+
+"It's a cuckoo's, sir. I know all about it, except where he was born,
+and who were his parents, and how he got his money. And Hareton Earnshaw
+has been cast out like an unfledged dunnock."
+
+I asked Mrs. Dean to bring her sewing, and continue the story. This she
+did, evidently pleased to find me companionable.
+
+
+_II.--The Story Runs Backward_
+
+
+Before I came to live here (began Mrs. Dean), I was almost always at
+Wuthering Heights, because my mother nursed Mr. Hindley Earnshaw, that
+was Hareton's father, and I used to run errands and play with the
+children. One day, old Mr. Earnshaw, Hareton's grandfather, went to
+Liverpool, and promised Hindley and Cathy, his son and daughter, to
+bring each of them a present. He was absent three days, and at the end
+of that time brought home, bundled up in his arms under his great-coat,
+a dirty, ragged, black-haired child, big enough both to walk and talk,
+but only able to talk gibberish nobody could understand. He had picked
+it up, he said, starving and homeless in the streets of Liverpool. Mrs.
+Earnshaw was ready to fling it out of doors, but Mr. Earnshaw told her
+to wash it, give it clean things, and let it sleep with the children.
+The children's presents were forgotten. This was how Heathcliff, as they
+called him, came to Wuthering Heights.
+
+Miss Cathy and he soon became very thick; but Hindley hated him. He was
+a patient, sullen child, who would stand blows without winking or
+shedding a tear. From the beginning he bred bad feeling in the house.
+Old Earnshaw took to him strangely, and Hindley regarded him as having
+usurped his father's affections. As for Heathcliff, he was insensible to
+kindness. Cathy, a wild slip, with the bonniest eye, the sweetest smile,
+and the lightest foot in the parish, was much too fond of Heathcliff.
+
+Old Mr. Earnshaw died quietly in his chair by the fireside one October
+evening.
+
+Mr. Hindley, who had been to college, came home to the funeral, and set
+the neighbours gossiping right and left, for he brought a wife with him.
+What she was and where she was born he never informed us. She evinced a
+dislike to Heathcliff, and drove him to the company of the servants, but
+Cathy clung to him, and the two promised to grow up together as rude as
+savages. Once Hindley shut them out for the night and they came to
+Thrushcross Grange, where the Lintons took Cathy in, but would not have
+anything to do with Heathcliff, the Spanish castaway, as they called
+him. She stayed five weeks with the Lintons, and became very friendly
+with the children, Edgar and Isabella, and when she came back was a
+dignified little person, and quite a beauty.
+
+Soon after, Hindley's son, Hareton, was born, the mother died, and the
+child fell wholly into my hands, for the father grew desperate in his
+sorrow, and gave himself up to reckless dissipation. His treatment of
+Heathcliff now was enough to make a fiend of a saint, and daily the lad
+became more savagely sullen. I could not half-tell what an infernal
+house we had, till at last nobody decent came near us, except that Edgar
+Linton called to see Cathy, who at fifteen was the queen of the
+countryside--a haughty and headstrong creature.
+
+One day after Edgar Linton had been over from the Grange, Cathy came
+into the kitchen to me and said, "Nelly, will you keep a secret for me?
+To-day Edgar Linton has asked me to marry him, and I've given him an
+answer. I accepted him, Nelly. Be quick and say whether I was wrong."
+
+"First and foremost," I said sententiously, "do you love Mr. Edgar?"
+
+"I love the ground under his feet, and the air over his head, and
+everything he touches, and every word he says. I love his looks, and all
+his actions, and him entirely and altogether. There now!"
+
+"Then," said I, "all seems smooth and easy. Where is the obstacle?"
+
+"Here, and here!" replied Catherine, striking one hand on her forehead,
+and the other on her breast. "In my soul and in my heart I'm convinced
+I'm wrong! I've no more business to marry Edgar Linton than I have to be
+in heaven; and if the wicked man in there, my brother, had not brought
+Heathcliff so low I shouldn't have thought of it. It would degrade me to
+marry Heathcliff now; so he shall never know how I love him, and that
+not because he's handsome, Nelly, but because he's more myself than I
+am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same, and
+Linton's is as different as a moonbeam from lightning, or frost from
+fire. Nelly, I dreamed I was in heaven, but heaven did not seem to be my
+home, and I broke my heart with weeping to come back to earth; and the
+angels were so angry that they flung me out into the middle of the heath
+on the top of Wuthering Heights, where I woke sobbing for joy."
+
+Ere this speech was ended, Heathcliff, who had been lying out of sight
+on a bench by the kitchen wall, stole out. He had heard Catherine say it
+would degrade her to marry him, and he had heard no further.
+
+That night, while a storm rattled over the heights in full fury,
+Heathcliff disappeared. Catherine suffered uncontrollable grief, and
+became dangerously ill. When she was convalescent she went to
+Thrushcross Grange. But Edgar Linton, when he married her, three years
+subsequent to his father's death, and brought her here to the Grange,
+was the happiest man alive. I accompanied her, leaving little Hareton,
+who was now nearly five years old, and had just begun to learn his
+letters.
+
+On a mellow evening in September, I was coming from the garden with a
+basket of apples I had been gathering, when, as I approached the kitchen
+door, I heard a voice say, "Nelly, is that you?"
+
+Something stirred in the porch, and, moving nearer, I saw a tall man,
+dressed in dark clothes, with dark hair and face.
+
+"What," I cried, "you come back?"
+
+"Yes, Nelly. You needn't be so disturbed. I want one word with your
+mistress."
+
+I went in, and explained to Mr. Edgar and Catherine who was waiting
+below.
+
+"Oh, Edgar darling," she panted, flinging her arms round his neck,
+"Heathcliff's come back--he is!"
+
+"Well, well," he said, "don't strangle me for that. There's no need to
+be frantic. Try to be glad without being absurd!"
+
+When Heathcliff came in, she seized his hands and laughed like one
+beside herself.
+
+It seemed that he was staying at Wuthering Heights, invited by Mr.
+Earnshaw! When I heard this I had a presentiment that he had better have
+remained away.
+
+Later, we learned from Joseph that Heathcliff had called on Earnshaw,
+whom he found sitting at cards, had joined in the play, and, seeming
+plentifully supplied with money, had been asked by his ancient
+persecutor to come again in the evening. He then offered liberal payment
+for permission to lodge at the Heights, which Earnshaw's covetousness
+made him accept.
+
+Heathcliff now commenced visiting Thrushcross Grange, and gradually
+established his right to be expected. A new source of trouble sprang up
+in an unexpected form--Isabella Linton evincing a sudden and
+irresistible attraction towards Heathcliff. At that time she was a
+charming young lady of eighteen. I tried to persuade her to banish him
+from her thoughts.
+
+"He's a bird of bad omen, miss," I said, "and no mate for you. How has
+he been living? How has he got rich? Why is he staying at Wuthering
+Heights in the house of the man whom he abhors? They say Mr. Earnshaw is
+worse and worse since he came. They sit up all night together
+continually, and Hindley has been borrowing money on his land, and does
+nothing but play and drink."
+
+"You are leagued with the rest," she replied, "and I'll not listen to
+your slanders." The antipathy of Mr. Linton towards Heathcliff reached a
+point at last at which he called on his servants one day to turn him out
+of the Grange, whereupon Heathcliff's revenge took the form of an
+elopement with Linton's sister. Six weeks later I received a letter of
+bitter regret from Isabella, asking me distractedly whether I thought
+her husband was a man or a devil, and how I had preserved the common
+sympathies of human nature at Wuthering Heights, where they had
+returned.
+
+On receiving this letter, I obtained permission from Mr. Linton to go to
+the Heights to see his sister, and Heathcliff, on meeting me, urged me
+to secure for him an interview with Catherine.
+
+"Nelly," said he, "you know as well as I do that for every thought she
+spends on Linton she spends a thousand on me. If he loved her with all
+the powers of his puny being, he couldn't love as much in eighty years
+as I could in a day. And Catherine has a heart as deep as I have. The
+sea could be as readily contained in that horse-trough as her whole
+affection be monopolised by him."
+
+Well, I argued, and refused, but in the long run he forced me to agree
+to put a missive into Mrs. Linton's hand.
+
+When he met her, I saw that he could hardly bear, for downright agony,
+to look into her face, for he was stricken with the conviction that she
+was fated to die.
+
+"Oh, Cathy, how can I bear it?" was the first sentence he uttered.
+
+"You and Edgar have broken my heart, Heathcliff," was her reply. "You
+have killed me and thriven on it, I think."
+
+"Are you possessed with a devil," he asked, "to talk in that manner to
+me when you are dying? You know you lie to say I have killed you, and
+you know that I could as soon forget my existence as forget you. Is it
+not sufficient that while you are at peace, I shall be in the torments
+of hell?"
+
+"I shall not be at peace," moaned Catherine.
+
+"Why did you despise me? Why did you betray your own heart? You loved
+me. What right had you to leave me?"
+
+"Let me alone!" sobbed Catherine. "I've done wrong, and I'm dying for
+it! Forgive me!"
+
+That night was born the Catherine you, Mr. Lockwood, saw at the Heights,
+and her mother's spirit was at home with God.
+
+When in the morning I told Heathcliff, who had been watching near all
+night, he dashed his head against the knotted trunk of the tree by which
+he stood and howled, not like a man, but like a savage beast, as he
+besought her ghost to haunt him. "Be with me always--take any form!" he
+cried. "Only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you!"
+
+Life with Heathcliff becoming impossible to Isabella, she left the
+neighbourhood, never to revisit it, and lived near London; and there her
+son, whom she christened Linton, was born a few months after her escape.
+He was an ailing, peevish creature. When Linton was twelve, or a little
+more, and Catherine thirteen, Isabella died, and the boy was brought to
+Thrushcross Grange. Hindley Earnshaw drank himself to death about the
+same time, after mortgaging every yard of his land for cash; and
+Heathcliff was the mortgagee. So Hareton Earnshaw, who should have been
+the first gentleman in the neighbourhood, was reduced to dependence on
+his father's enemy, in whose house he lived, ignorant that he had been
+wronged.
+
+The motives of Heathcliff now became clear. Under the influence of a
+passionate but calculating revenge, allied with greed, he was planning
+the destruction of the Earnshaw family, and the union of the Wuthering
+Heights and Thrushcross Grange estates. To this end, having brought his
+weakly son home to the Heights and terrorised him into a pitiable
+slavery, he schemed a marriage between him and young Catherine Linton,
+who was induced to accept the arrangement through sympathy with her
+cousin, and the hope of removing him from the paralysing influence of
+his father. The marriage was almost immediately followed by the death of
+both Catherine's father and her boyish husband, who, it was afterwards
+found, had been coaxed or threatened into bequeathing all his property
+to his father. Thus ended Mrs. Dean's story of how the strangely
+assorted occupants of Wuthering Heights had come together, my landlord
+Heathcliff, the disinherited, poor Hareton Earnshaw, and Catherine
+Heathcliff, who had been Catherine Linton and the daughter of Catherine
+Earnshaw. I propose riding over to Wuthering Heights to inform my
+landlord that I shall spend the next six months in London, and that he
+may look out for another tenant for the Grange.
+
+
+_III.--The Story Runs Forward_
+
+
+Yesterday was bright, calm, and frosty, and I went to the Heights as I
+proposed. My housekeeper entreated me to bear a little note from her to
+her young lady, and I did not refuse, for the worthy woman was not
+conscious of anything odd in her request. Hareton Earnshaw unchained the
+gate for me. The fellow is as handsome a rustic as need be seen, but he
+does his best, apparently, to make the least of his advantages.
+Catherine, who was preparing vegetables for a meal, looked more sulky
+and less spirited than when I had seen her first.
+
+"She does not seem so amiable," I thought, "as Mrs. Dean would persuade
+me to believe. She's a beauty, it is true, but not an angel."
+
+I approached her, pretending to desire a view of the garden, and dropped
+Mrs. Dean's note on her knee unnoticed by Hareton. But she asked aloud,
+"What is that?" and chucked it off.
+
+"A letter from your old acquaintance, the housekeeper at the Grange," I
+answered. She would gladly have gathered it up at this information, but
+Hareton beat her. He seized and put it in his waistcoat, saying Mr.
+Heathcliff should look at it first; but later he pulled out the letter,
+and flung it on the floor as ungraciously as he could. Catherine perused
+it eagerly, and then asked, "Does Ellen like you?"
+
+"Yes, very well," I replied hesitatingly.
+
+Whereupon she became more communicative, and told me how dull she was
+now Heathcliff had taken her books away.
+
+When Heathcliff came in, looking restless and anxious, he sent her to
+the kitchen to get her dinner with Joseph; and with the master of the
+house, grim and saturnine, and Hareton absolutely dumb, I made a
+cheerless meal, and bade adieu early.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Next September, when going north for shooting, a sudden impulse seized
+me to visit Thrushcross Grange and pass a night under my own roof, for
+the tenancy had not yet expired. When I reached the Grange before sunset
+I found a girl knitting under the porch, and an old woman reclining on
+the house-steps, smoking a meditative pipe.
+
+"Is Mrs. Dean within?" I demanded.
+
+"Mistress Dean? Nay!" she answered. "She doesn't bide here; shoo's up at
+th' Heights."
+
+"Are you housekeeper, then?"
+
+"Eea, aw keep th' house," she replied.
+
+"Well, I'm Mr. Lockwood, the master. Are there any rooms to lodge me in,
+I wonder? I wish to stay all night."
+
+"T' maister!" she cried in astonishment. "Yah sud ha' sent word. They's
+nowt norther dry nor mensful abaht t' place!"
+
+Leaving her scurrying about making preparations, I climbed the stony
+by-road that branches off to Mr. Heathcliff's dwelling. On reaching it I
+had neither to climb the gate nor to knock--it yielded to my hand. "This
+is an improvement," I thought. I noticed, too, a fragrance of flowers
+wafted on the air from among the homely fruit-trees.
+
+"Con-_trary_!" said a voice as sweet as a silver bell "That for the
+third time, you dunce! I'm not going to tell you again."
+
+"Contrary, then," answered another in deep but softened tones. "And now
+kiss me for minding so well."
+
+The male speaker was a young man, respectably dressed and seated at a
+table, having a book before him. His handsome features glowed with
+pleasure, and his eyes kept impatiently wandering from the page to a
+small white hand over his shoulder. So, not to interrupt Hareton
+Earnshaw and Catherine Heathcliff, I went round to the kitchen, where my
+old friend Nelly Dean sat sewing and singing a song.
+
+Mrs. Dean jumped to her feet as she recognised me. "Why, bless you, Mr.
+Lockwood!" she exclaimed. "Pray step in! Have you walked from
+Gimmerton?"
+
+"No, from the Grange," I replied; "and while they make me a lodging room
+there I want to finish my business with your master."
+
+"What business, sir?" said Nelly.
+
+"About the rent," I answered.
+
+"Oh, then it is Catherine you must settle with, or rather me, as she has
+not learned to arrange her affairs yet."
+
+I looked surprised.
+
+"Ah! You have not heard of Heathcliff's death, I see," she continued.
+
+"Heathcliff dead!" I exclaimed. "How long ago?"
+
+"Three months since; but sit down, and I'll tell you all about it."
+
+"I was summoned to Wuthering Heights," she said, "within a fortnight of
+your leaving us, and I went gladly for Catherine's sake. Mr. Heathcliff,
+who grew more and more disinclined to society, almost banished Earnshaw
+from his apartment, and was tired of seeing Catherine--that was the
+reason why I was sent for--and the two young people were thrown perforce
+much in each other's company in the house, and presently Catherine began
+to make it clear to her obstinate cousin that she wished to be friends.
+The intimacy ripened rapidly, and, Mr. Lockwood, on their wedding day
+there won't be a happier woman in England than myself. Joseph was the
+only objector, and he appealed to Heathcliff against 'yon flaysome
+graceless quean, that's witched our lad wi' her bold een and her forrad
+ways.' But after a burst of passion at the news, Mr. Heathcliff suddenly
+calmed down and said to me, 'Nelly, there is a strange change
+approaching; I'm in its shadow.'
+
+"Soon after that he took to wandering alone, in a state approaching
+distraction. He could not rest; he could not eat; and he would not see
+the doctor. One morning as I walked round the house I observed the
+master's window swinging open and the rain driving straight in. 'He
+cannot be in bed,' I thought, 'those showers would drench him through.'
+And so it was, for when I entered the chamber his face and throat were
+washed with rain, the bed-clothes dripped, and he was perfectly
+still--dead and stark. I called up Joseph. 'Eh, what a wicked 'un he
+looks, girning at death,' exclaimed the old man, and then he fell on his
+knees and returned thanks that the ancient Earnshaw stock were restored
+to their rights.
+
+"I shall be glad when they leave the Heights for the Grange," concluded
+Mrs. Dean.
+
+"They are going to the Grange, then?"
+
+"Yes, as soon as they are married; and that will be on New Year's Day."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+ROBERT BUCHANAN
+
+
+The Shadow of the Sword
+
+      Robert Buchanan, poet, novelist, and playwright, was born on
+     Aug. 18, 1841, at Caverswall, Staffordshire, England, the son
+     of a poor journeyman tailor from Ayrshire, in Scotland, who
+     wrote poetry, and wandered about the country preaching
+     socialism of the Owen type, afterwards editing a Glasgow
+     journal. Owing, perhaps, in part to his very unconventional
+     training, Robert Buchanan entered on life with a strange
+     freshness of vision. Nothing in ordinary human life seemed
+     common or mean to him, and this sense of wonder, combined with
+     a power of judgment much steadier than his father's, made him
+     a poet of considerable genius. "Undertones," published in
+     1863, and "Idylls and Legends of Inverburn," which appeared
+     two years later, made him famous. The same qualities which he
+     displayed in his poetry Buchanan exhibited in his earliest and
+     best novels. "The Shadow of the Sword," published in 1876, was
+     originally conceived as a poem, and it still remains one of
+     the best of modern English prose romances. In his latter years
+     Robert Buchanan, tortured by the long and painful illness of
+     his beautiful and gentle wife, wrote a considerable amount of
+     work with no literary merit; but this does not diminish the
+     value of his best and earliest work, which undoubtedly
+     entitles him to a place of importance in English literature.
+     He died on June 10, 1901.
+
+
+_I.--The King of the Conscripts_
+
+
+"Rohan Gwenfern!" cried the sergeant, in a voice that rang like a
+trumpet through the length of the town hall.
+
+No one answered. The crowd of young Kromlaix men looked at each other in
+consternation. Was the handsomest, the strongest, and the most daring
+lad in their village a coward? It was the dark year of 1813, when
+Napoleon was draining France of all its manhood. Even the only sons of
+poor widowed women, such as Rohan Gwenfern was, were no longer exempted
+from conscription. Having lost half a million men amid the snows of
+Russia, Napoleon had called for 200,000 more soldiers, and the little
+Breton fishing village of Kromlaix had to provide twenty-five recruits.
+
+"Rohan Gwenfern!" cried the sergeant again.
+
+The mayor rose up behind the ballot-box on the large table, about which
+the villagers were gathered, and looked around in vain for the splendid
+figure of the young fisherman.
+
+"Where is your nephew?" he said to Corporal Derval, in an angry voice.
+
+Derval, one of Napoleon's veterans, who had been pensioned after losing
+his leg at Austerlitz, looked at his pretty niece, Marcelle, with a
+strange pallor on his furrowed, sunburnt face.
+
+"Rohan was too ill to come," said Marcelle, with a troubled look in her
+sweet grey eyes. "I will draw in his name."
+
+"Very well, my pretty lass," said the mayor, his grim face softening
+into a smile as he looked at the beautiful girl, "you shall draw for
+him, and bring him luck."
+
+Marcelle's hand trembled as she put it into the ballot-box. She let it
+stay there so long that some of the soldiers began to laugh. But the
+village women, gathered in a dense crowd at the back of the hall, gazed
+at her with tears in their eyes. They knew what she was doing. She was
+praying that she might draw a lucky number for her lover, Rohan.
+Twenty-five conscripts were wanted, and those who drew a paper numbered
+twenty-six or upwards were free.
+
+"Come, come, my dear!" said the mayor, stroking his moustache, and
+nodding encouragingly at Marcelle.
+
+She slowly drew forth a paper, and handed it to her uncle, who opened
+it, read it with a stare, and uttered his usual expletive. "Soul of a
+crow!" in an awstricken whisper.
+
+"Read it, corporal!" said the mayor, while Marcelle looked wildly at her
+uncle.
+
+"It is incredible!" said Corporal Derval, handing the paper to the
+sergeant, with the look of amazement still on his face.
+
+"Rohan Gwenfern--one!" shouted the sergeant, while Marcelle clung to her
+uncle, and hid her face upon his arm.
+
+Rohan Gwenfern, who had taken a solemn oath that he would never go forth
+to slay his fellow-men at the bidding of Napoleon, whom he regarded as a
+horrible, murderous monster, found himself, when he returned to Kromlaix
+late that evening, in the sorry position of King of the Conscripts. He
+was a young man who had led a very solitary life, but solitude, instead
+of making him morbid, had strengthened his natural feelings of pity and
+affection. His immense physical strength had never been exerted for any
+evil, and even in the roughest wrestling matches he had never fought
+brutally or cruelly.
+
+He certainly rejoiced in his splendid powers of body; but he had the
+gentleness of soul of a poetic mind, as well as the magnanimity that
+often goes with great strength. There was, indeed, something lion-like
+about him as he strode up to the door of his cottage, with his mane of
+yellow hair floating over his broad brows and falling on his shoulders.
+An eager crowd was waiting for him, and when he appeared, they all
+shouted.
+
+"Here he is at last!" cried a voice, which he recognised as that of
+Mikel Grallon. "Three cheers for the King of the Conscripts!"
+
+Some bag-pipe players struck up a merry tune, but Rohan, with a wild
+face and stern eyes, pushed his way through the throng into his cottage.
+On a seat by the fire his mother sat weeping, her face covered with her
+apron; round her was a band of sympathising friends. The scene explained
+itself in one flash, and Rohan Gwenfern knew his fate. Pale as death, he
+rushed across the floor to his mother's side, just as a troop of young
+girls flocked into the house singing the Marseillaise. At their head was
+Marcelle.
+
+A hard struggle had gone on in the heart of Rohan's sweetheart. She had
+been overcome with grief when she drew the fatal number. But her dismay
+had quickly turned into an heroic pride at the thought of her lover
+becoming a soldier of Napoleon. From her childhood she had learnt from
+her uncle to admire and worship the great emperor who had led the armies
+of France from victory to victory, and she did not think that Rohan
+would refuse to follow him. It is true that she had often heard Gwenfern
+say that he loathed war; but many other men of Kromlaix had said the
+same thing; and yet, when the hour came, and they were called to serve
+in the Grand Army, they had obeyed.
+
+"Look, Rohan!" she cried, holding up in her hand a rosette with a long,
+coloured streamer. "Look! I have brought this for you."
+
+Each of the conscripts wore a similar badge, and old Corporal Derval had
+stuck one on his own breast. All the crowd cheered as Marcelle advanced,
+with bright eyes and flaming cheeks, to her sweetheart.
+
+"Keep back! Do not touch me!" cried Rohan, his face blazing with strange
+anger.
+
+"The boy's mad!" exclaimed Corporal Derval, in an angry voice.
+
+"Do you not understand, Rohan?" exclaimed Marcelle, terrified by her
+lover's look. "As you did not come, someone had to draw in your name. I
+did so, and you are now the King of the Conscripts, and this is your
+badge. Let me fasten it upon your breast!"
+
+In a moment her soft fingers attached the rosette to his jacket. Rohan
+did not stir; his eyes were fixed on the ground, but his features worked
+convulsively.
+
+"Forward now, all of you to the inn!" said Corporal Derval, when the
+cheering was over. "We will drink the health of Number One!"
+
+As everybody was moving towards the door, Rohan started as if from a
+trance.
+
+"Stay!" he shouted.
+
+All stood listening, and his widowed mother crept up and clasped his
+hand.
+
+"You are all mad," he said, in a wild voice, "and I seem to be going
+mad, too. What is this you tell me about a conscription and an emperor?
+I do not understand. I only know you are all mad. Napoleon has no right
+to compel me to fight for him; and if every Frenchman had my heart, he
+would not reign another day. I refuse to be led like a sheep to the
+slaughter. He can kill me if he wills, but he cannot force me to kill my
+fellow-men. You can go if you like, and do his bloody work. Had I the
+power I would serve him as I serve this badge of his!"
+
+Tearing the rosette from his breast, he cast it into the flaming fire.
+
+"Rohan, for God's sake be silent!" cried Marcelle. "You speak like a
+madman. It is all my fault. I thought I should bring you good luck by
+drawing for you. Won't you forgive me?"
+
+The young fisherman looked sadly into his sweetheart's face, and when he
+saw her wet eyes and quivering lips his heart was stirred. He took her
+hand and kissed it, but suddenly an ill-favoured face was thrust forward
+between the two lovers.
+
+"Isn't it a pity," sneered Mikel Grallon, "to see a pretty girl wasting
+herself on a coward, when----"
+
+He did not complete the sentence, for Rohan stretched out his hand and
+smote him down. Grallon fell like a log.
+
+A wild cry arose from all the men, the women screamed, even Marcelle
+shrank back; and Rohan strode to the door, pushing his way out.
+
+"Hold him! Kill him!" shouted some.
+
+"Arrest him!" cried Corporal Derval.
+
+Rohan hurled his opponents right and left like so many ninepins. They
+fell back and gasped. Then, turning his white face for an instant on
+Marcelle, her lover passed unmolested out into the darkness.
+
+
+_II.--In the Cathedral of the Sea_
+
+
+Along the wild, rugged shore, a little way from Kromlaix, was an immense
+cavern of crimson granite, hung with gleaming moss, and washed by the
+roaring tides of the sea. Its towering walls had been carved by wind and
+water into thousands of beautiful, fantastical forms, and a dim
+religious light fell from above through a long, funnel-shaped hole
+running from the roof of the cavern to the top of the great cliff.
+
+It was here that Rohan Gwenfern hid from the band of soldiers sent in
+pursuit of him. The air was damp and chill, but he breathed it with the
+comfort of a hardy animal. He made a bed of dry seaweed on the top of
+the precipice leading to the hole in the cliff, where his mother came
+and lowered food to him every evening; and Jannedik, a pet goat that
+used to follow him everywhere in the days when he was a free man, was
+his only companion. Strange and solitary was the life he led, but he
+slept as soundly in his bed of seaweed on the wild precipice as he did
+in his bed at home.
+
+But one morning, when he awoke, a confused murmur broke upon his ear.
+Peering over the ledge, he saw a crowd of soldiers standing on the
+shingle at the mouth of the cavern.
+
+"Come down and surrender, in the name of the emperor!" cried the
+sergeant.
+
+"Surrender!" shouted all his men. And the vast, dim place rang with the
+echoing sound of their voices.
+
+"You can have my dead body if you care to come up here for it!" cried
+Rohan, stepping into the light that fell from the hole in the cliff.
+
+The soldiers stared up in astonishment when Rohan appeared on the ledge
+of the precipice. He was now a gaunt, forlorn, hunted man, with a few
+rags hanging about his body, and a great shock of yellow hair tumbling
+below his shoulders. Under the stress of mental suffering his flesh had
+wasted from his bones, but his eyes flashed with a terrible light.
+
+"Come down," said the sergeant, raising his gun, "or I will pick you off
+your perch as if you were a crow."
+
+Instead of getting behind a rock, Rohan stood up with a strange smile on
+his face, and said, "If you want me, you must come and fetch me."
+
+There was a flash, a roar--the sergeant had fired. But when the smoke
+had cleared away, Rohan was still standing on the ledge with the strange
+smile on his face. The shot had gone wide.
+
+"You can smile," said the sergeant angrily, "but you cannot escape. If I
+cannot bring you down, I will starve you out. My men are watching for
+you, above and below. You are surrounded."
+
+"And so are you," said Rohan, with a laugh, pointing to the mouth of the
+cavern. "Look behind you!"
+
+The sergeant and his men turned round, and gave a cry of dismay. The
+tide had turned, and the sea was surging fiercely into the mouth of the
+cavern.
+
+"Give him one volley," shouted the sergeant, "and then swim for your
+lives."
+
+But when the men turned to aim at Rohan, he was no longer visible. They
+fired at random at the hole in the cliff, and after filling the great
+cavern with drifting smoke and echoing thunder, they fled for their
+lives, wading, swimming through the high spring tide.
+
+"At any rate," said the sergeant, when they had all got safely back to
+land, "we can stop Mother Gwenfern from bringing the mad rebel any more
+food."
+
+So a watch was set over the cottage in which Rohan's widowed mother
+lived, and she was always searched whenever she left her house, and
+bands of armed men kept guard night and day by the hole at the top of
+the cliff and by the seaward entrance to the cavern. At the end of two
+weeks the sergeant resolved to make another attack. The man, he thought,
+must surely have been starved to death, as every avenue of aid had long
+since been blocked.
+
+So one moonlight night at ebb tide the crowd of soldiers crept into the
+cavern and lashed two long ladders together, and began to climb up the
+precipice. But a strong arm seized the ladders from above, and flung
+them back on the granite floor of the cave. Standing like a ghost in the
+faint, silvery radiance falling through the hole in the cliff, Rohan
+hurled down upon the dark mass of the besieging crowd great fragments of
+rock which he had placed, ready for use, along the ledge on which he
+slept.
+
+"Fire Fire!" shrieked the sergeant, pointing at the white figure of
+Rohan.
+
+But before the command could be obeyed, Rohan got under shelter, and the
+bullets rained harmlessly round the spot where he had just stood. Then,
+under cover of fire, some men advanced and again placed the ladder
+against the precipice. As Rohan crouched down on the ledge, he was
+startled by the apparition of a human face. With a cry of rage, he
+sprang to his feet, and, heedless of the bullets thudding on the rock
+around him, he slowly and painfully lifted up a terrible granite
+boulder, poised it for a moment over his head, and then hurled it down
+at the shapes dimly struggling below him. There was a crash, a shriek.
+Under the weight of the boulder the ladders broke, and the men upon them
+fell down, amid horrible cries of agony and terror.
+
+What happened after this Rohan never knew; for, overcome by frenzy and
+fatigue, he swooned away. When he opened his eyes, he was lying beneath
+the hole in the cliff, with the moonlight streaming upon his face. From
+below him came the soft sound of lapping water, and, looking down, he
+saw that the tide had entered the cave, and forced the besiegers to give
+over their attack.
+
+Yes, the battle was over, and he had conquered! His position indeed was
+impregnable; had he been well supplied with food, he could have held it
+against hundreds of men for a long period. But, as he laid down on his
+bed of seaweed, a rough tongue licked his hand. It was his goat,
+Jannedik. For the last fortnight, Rohan's mother had sent the goat every
+day to her son with a basket of food tied round its neck and hidden in
+the long hair of its throat. Rohan groped in the darkness for the
+basket, and Jannedik uttered a low cry of pain, rolled over at his feet
+into the moonlight, revealing a terrible bullet-wound in its side, and
+quivered and died. Some soldier had shot it.
+
+As Rohan stared at the dead body of his four-footed friend, the strength
+of mind which had enabled him to withstand all the power that Napoleon,
+the conqueror of Europe, could bring against him at last went from him.
+Trembling and shivering, he looked around him, overcome by utter
+desolation and despair. He had held out bravely, but he could hold out
+no longer; slowly and laboriously he climbed down the dark face of the
+precipice, and reached the narrow strip of shingle below, just as the
+moon got clear from a cloud and lighted up the cavern. Its cold rays
+fell on the white face of the sergeant, who laid half on the shingle and
+half in the water, crushed by the great boulder with which Rohan had
+broken down the ladders.
+
+Rohan gazed for a moment on the features of the man he had killed, and
+then, with a cry of agony and despair, he fell upon his knees.
+
+"Not on my head, O God, be the guilt!" he prayed. "Not on my head, but
+on his who hunted me down and made me what I am; on his, whose red sword
+shadows all the world, and drives on millions of innocent men to murder
+each other! Ah, God, God, God! The men that Napoleon has slain! Is it
+not high time that some man like me sought him out and killed him, and
+brought peace back once more to this blood-covered earth of ours? Yes, I
+will do it!"
+
+Rising wildly to his feet, full of the strange strength and the strange
+powers of madness, Rohan Gwenfern climbed up the precipice to his bed of
+seaweed, and then took a path that no man had taken and lived--the
+sheer, precipitous path from the roof of the cavern to the top of the
+cliff.
+
+
+_III.--Rohan Meets Napoleon_
+
+
+As the Grand Army swept into Belgium for the last great battle against
+the united powers of England, Germany, Austria, and Russia, a strange,
+savage creature followed it--a gaunt, half-naked man, with long yellow
+hair falling almost to his waist, and bloodshot eyes with a look of
+madness in them. How he lived it is difficult to tell. He never begged,
+but the soldiers threw lumps of bread at him as he prowled round their
+camp-fires, asking everyone whom he met: "Where is the emperor? Where is
+Napoleon? Do you think he will come this way?"
+
+Twice he had been arrested as a spy, and hastily condemned to be shot.
+But each time, on hearing his sentence of death, he gave so strange a
+laugh that the officer examined him more closely, and then set him free,
+saying with scornful pity, "It is a harmless maniac. Let him go."
+
+He always lagged in the rear of the advancing army, and as each fresh
+regiment arrived he mingled with the soldiers, and asked them in a
+fierce whisper, "Is the emperor coming now? Isn't he coming?"
+
+At last, one dark rainy evening, the wild outcast saw the man for whom
+he was seeking. Wrapped in an old grey overcoat, and wearing a cocked
+hat from which the rain dripped heavily, Napoleon stood on a hill, with
+his hands clasped behind his back, his head sunk deep between his
+shoulders, looking towards Ligny. But he was guarded; a crowd of
+officers stood close behind him, waiting for orders.
+
+Suddenly a bareheaded soldier came riding along the road, spurring and
+flogging his horse as if for dear life; galloping wildly up the hill he
+handed the emperor a dispatch. Napoleon glanced at it, and spoke to his
+staff officers. With a wild movement of joy they drew their swords, and
+waved them in the air, shouting, "_Vive l'Empereur!"_ Napoleon smiled.
+His star was again in the ascendant! The Prussians were retreating from
+Ligny; he had struck the first blow, and it was a victory!
+
+Near the hill on which he was standing was a deserted farmhouse; he gave
+orders that it should be prepared for his reception. But, as he rode
+down the hill at the head of his staff, the man who had been watching
+him divined his intention, and reached the house before his attendants.
+The soldiers who searched the place before Napoleon entered failed to
+see the dark figure crouching up in the corner of a loft among the black
+rafters.
+
+"Leave me," said Napoleon to his men, after he had finished the plain
+meal of bread and wine set before him.
+
+To-morrow he would meet for the first time, on the rolling fields of
+Waterloo, the only captain of a European army whom he had not defeated.
+He wanted to think his plans of battle over in silence. Some time he
+paced up and down the room, his chin drooping forward on his breast, and
+his hands clasped upon his back. Through the wide, clear spaces of his
+mind great armies passed in black procession, moving like storm-clouds
+over the stricken earth; burning cities rose in the distance, amid the
+shrieks of dying men, and the thunder of cannon. His plan was at last
+matured. Victory? Yes, that was certain! So his thoughts ran. An
+aide-de-camp entered with a dispatch. He tore it open, and ran his eye
+over it.
+
+"It is nothing," he said. "Don't disturb me for two hours except on a
+matter of great importance. I want to sleep."
+
+Going up to the old armchair of oak that was set before the fire, he
+fell on his knees, and covered his eyes and prayed.
+
+"What!" said the man who was watching him up in the rafters. "Does Cain
+dare to pray? Surely God will not answer his prayers! He is praying that
+he may wipe the English to-morrow from the face of the earth, and again
+cement his throne with blood, and forge his sceptre of fire!"
+
+That, no doubt, was what Napoleon prayed for. Yet, when he rose up his
+face was wonderfully changed and softened by the religious light which
+had shone on it for a few moments. Then, throwing himself into the
+armchair, he closed his eyes. And, as the fire burnt low, Rohan Gwenfern
+silently descended from the loft, and something gleamed in his hand. He
+crept up to the sleeping emperor, and stared at his face, reading it
+line by line. Napoleon moved uneasily in his sleep, and murmured to
+himself, and his hand opened and shut.
+
+As Rohan raised his knife to strike home to the heart of the tyrant he
+saw the hand--white and small, like a woman's or a child's. Again he
+looked at the face. Ah, there was no imperial grandeur here! Only a
+feeble, sallow, tired, and sickly creature, whom a strong man could
+crush down with one blow of his fist. Rohan grew weak as he looked, and
+the long knife almost fell from his clutch.
+
+"I must kill him--I must kill him!" he kept saying to himself. "His one
+life against the peace and happiness of earth--the life of a Cain! If he
+awakens, war will awaken, and fire, famine, and slaughter! Kill him,
+Rohan, kill him!"
+
+Perhaps if Napoleon had not prayed before he slept, his enemy would have
+carried out his purpose. But he had prayed; his face had become
+beautiful for a moment, and he fell asleep as fearlessly as a child. No!
+Rohan Gwenfern was not made of the stuff of which savage assassins are
+formed; though there was madness in his brain, there was still love in
+his heart. He could not kill even Cain, when God had sanctified the
+murderer with sleep. God had made Napoleon, and God had sent him; bloody
+as he was, he, too, was God's child.
+
+Opening the great casement window of the room in the farmhouse, Gwenfern
+gazed for a moment with wild eyes and quivering lips on the pale, worn
+face of the great conqueror, and then leaped out into the darkness. When
+Napoleon awoke, a long knife was lying at his feet; but he heeded it
+not, and little dreamt that a few minutes ago it had been pointed at his
+heart.
+
+Ah, Rohan Gwenfern had done well to leave the mighty emperor in the
+hands of God, and go back, a wild, tattered, mad beggar to his
+sweetheart Marcelle, in the little Breton village of Kromlaix. For as
+Napoleon came out of the farmhouse, and looked at the dawning sky, there
+rose up, clouding the lurid star of his destiny, the blood-red shadow--
+WATERLOO!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+JOHN BUNYAN
+
+
+The Holy War
+
+      John Bunyan was born at Elstow, near Bedford, England, in
+     1628. After receiving a scanty education at the village
+     school, he worked hard at the forge with his father. In his
+     sixteenth year he lost his mother, and soon after he joined
+     the army, then engaged in the Civil War; but his military
+     experience lasted only a few months. Returning to Elstow, he
+     again worked at the forge, and married. After various
+     alternating religious experiences, in 1655 he became a member
+     of the Baptist congregation at Bedford, of which he was ere
+     long chosen pastor. His success was extraordinary; but after
+     five years his ministry was prohibited, and he was
+     incarcerated in Bedford Gaol, his imprisonment lasting for
+     twelve years. There he wrote his immortal "Pilgrim's
+     Progress." Released under the Act of Indulgence, he resumed
+     his ministry, and ultimately his pastoral charge in Bedford.
+     He took fever when on a visit to London, and died on August
+     31, 1688. The "Holy War" is considered by critics even
+     superior to the "Pilgrim," inasmuch as it betrays a finer
+     literary workmanship. It was written in 1682, after
+     molestation of Bunyan as a preacher had ceased, and when he
+     was known widely as the author of the first part of the
+     "Pilgrim's Progress," the second part of which was published
+     two years later. Macaulay held that if there had been no
+     "Pilgrim's Progress," "Holy War" would have been the first of
+     religious allegories. No doubt its popularity has been due in
+     some degree to its kinship to that work; but the vigour of its
+     style overcomes the minute elaboration of an almost impossible
+     theme, and the book lives, alike as literature and theology,
+     by its own vitality. An elaborate analysis of it may be found
+     in Froude's volume on Bunyan. He said of it: "'The Holy War'
+     would have entitled Bunyan to a place among the masters of
+     English Literature."
+
+
+_I.--The Founding of Mansoul_
+
+
+In the gallant country of Universe there is a fair and delicate town, a
+corporation called Mansoul, a town for its building so curious, for its
+situation so commodious, for its privileges so advantageous, that there
+is not its equal under the whole heaven.
+
+As to the situation of the town, it lieth between two worlds, and the
+first founder and builder of it was one Shaddai, who built it for his
+own delight. And as he made it goodly to behold, so also mighty to have
+dominion over all the country round about.
+
+There was reared up in the midst of this town a most famous and stately
+place--for strength it may be called a castle; for pleasantness, a
+paradise. This place King Shaddai intended for himself alone, and not
+another with him; and of it he made a garrison, but committed the
+keeping of it only to the men of the town.
+
+This famous town of Mansoul had five gates--Eargate, Eyegate, Mouthgate,
+Nosegate, and Feelgate. It had always a sufficiency of provisions within
+its walls, and it had the best, most wholesome and excellent law that
+was then extant in the world. There was not a rogue, rascal, or
+traitorous person within its walls; they were all true men, and fast
+joined together.
+
+
+_II.--The Plot and Capture_
+
+
+Well, upon a time there was one Diabolus, a mighty giant, made an
+assault upon the famous town of Mansoul, to take it, and make it his own
+habitation. This Diabolus was first one of the servants of King Shaddai,
+by whom he was raised to a most high and mighty place. But he, seeing
+himself thus exalted to greatness and honour, and raging in his mind for
+higher state and degree, what doth he but begin to think with himself
+how he might set up as lord over all, and have the sole power under
+Shaddai--but that the king had reserved for his son. Wherefore Diabolus
+first consults with himself what had best to be done, and then breaks
+his mind to some others of his companions, to which they also agreed. So
+they came to the issue that they should make an attempt upon the king's
+son to destroy him, that the inheritance might be theirs.
+
+Now, the king and his son, being all and always eye, could not but
+discern all passages in his dominions; wherefore, what does he but takes
+them in the very nick, and the first trip that they made towards their
+design, convicts them of the treason, horrid rebellion, and conspiracy
+that they had devised, and casts them altogether out of all place of
+trust, benefit, honours, and preferment; and this done, he banishes them
+the court, turns them down into horrid pits, never more to expect the
+least favour at his hands.
+
+Banished from his court, you may be sure they would now add to their
+former pride, malice and rage against Shaddai. Wherefore, roving and
+ranging in much fury from place to place, if perhaps they might find
+something that was the king's, they happened into this spacious country
+of Universe, and steered their course to Mansoul. So when they found the
+place, they shouted horribly on it for joy, saying: "Now have we found
+the prize, and how to be revenged on King Shaddai!" So they sat down and
+called a council of war.
+
+Now, with Diabolus was, among others, the fierce Alecto, and Apollyon,
+and the mighty giant Beelzebub, and Lucifer, and Legion. And Legion it
+was whose advice was taken that they should assault the town in all
+pretended fairness, covering their intentions with lies, flatteries, and
+delusive words; feigning things that will never be, and promising that
+to them which they shall never find. It was designed also that, by a
+stratagem, they should destroy one Mr. Resistance, otherwise called
+Captain Resistance--a man that the giant Diabolus and his band more
+feared than they feared the whole town of Mansoul besides. And they
+appointed one Tisiphone to do it.
+
+Thus, having ended the council of war, they rose up and marched towards
+Mansoul; but all in a manner invisible, save only Diabolus, who
+approached the town in the shape and body of a dragon. So they drew up
+and sat down before Eargate, and laid their ambuscade for Mr. Resistance
+within a bow shot of the town. Then Diabolus, being come to the gate,
+sounded his trumpet for audience, at which the chiefs of the town, such
+as my lord Innocent, my lord Will-be-will, Mr. Recorder, and Captain
+Resistance, came down to the wall to see who was there and what was the
+matter.
+
+Diabolus then began his oration.
+
+"Gentlemen of the famous town of Mansoul, I have somewhat of concern to
+impart unto you. And first I will assure you it is not my own but your
+advantage that I seek. I am come to show you how you may obtain ample
+deliverance from a bondage that, unawares to yourselves, you are
+captivated and enslaved under."
+
+At this the town of Mansoul began to prick up its ears.
+
+"And what is it, pray? What is it?" thought they.
+
+Then Diabolus spoke on.
+
+"Touching your king, I know he is great and potent; but his laws are
+unreasonable, intricate, and intolerable. There is a great difference
+and disproportion betwixt the life and an apple, yet one must go for the
+other by the law of your Shaddai. Why should you be holden in ignorance
+and blindness? O ye inhabitants of Mansoul, ye are not a free people!
+And is it not grievous to think on, that the very thing you are
+forbidden to do, might you but do it would yield you both wisdom and
+honour?"
+
+And just now, while Diabolus was speaking these words to Mansoul,
+Tisiphone shot at Captain Resistance, where he stood on the gate, and
+mortally wounded him in the head, so that he, to the amazement of the
+townsmen, fell down quite dead over the wall. Now, when Captain
+Resistance was dead--and he was the only man of war in the town--poor
+Mansoul was left wholly naked of courage. Then stood forth Mr.
+Ill-pause, that Diabolus brought with him as his orator, and persuaded
+the townsfolk to take of the tree which King Shaddai had forbidden; and
+when they saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was pleasant
+to the eye, and a tree to be desired to make one wise, they took and did
+eat. Now even while this Ill-pause was making his speech, my lord
+Innocent--whether by a shot from the camp of the giant, or from some
+qualm that suddenly took him, or whether by the stinking breath of that
+treacherous villain, old Ill-pause, for so I am most apt to think--sunk
+down in the place where he stood still, nor could he be brought to life
+again.
+
+Now, these brave men being dead, what do the rest of the townsfolk but
+fall down and yield obedience to Diabolus, and having eaten of the
+forbidden fruit, they become drunk therewith, and so opened both Eargate
+and Eyegate, and let in Diabolus and all his band, quite forgetting
+their good Shaddai and his law.
+
+Diabolus now bethinks himself of remodelling the town for his greater
+security, setting up one and putting down another at pleasure. Wherefore
+he put out of power and place my lord mayor, whose name was my lord
+Understanding, and Mr. Recorder, whose name was Mr. Conscience. But my
+lord Will-be-will, a man of great strength, resolution, and courage,
+resolved to bear office under Diabolus, who, perceiving the willingness
+of my lord to serve him forthwith, made him captain of the castle,
+governor of the walls, and keeper of the gates of Mansoul. He also had
+Mr. Mind for his clerk.
+
+When the giant had thus engarrisoned himself in the town of Mansoul, he
+betakes himself to defacing. Now, there was in the market-place, and
+also in the gates of the castle, an image of the blessed King Shaddai.
+This he commanded to be defaced, and it was basely done by the hand of
+Mr. No-truth. Moreover, Diabolus made havoc of the remains of the laws
+and statutes of Shaddai, and set up his own vain edicts, such as gave
+liberty to the lusts of the flesh, the lusts of the eyes, and the pride
+of life.
+
+
+_III.--The Re-Taking of Mansoul_
+
+
+Now, as you may well think, long before this time, word was carried to
+the good King Shaddai that Mansoul was lost, and it would have amazed
+one to have seen what sorrow and compunction of spirit there was among
+all sorts at the king's court to think that the place was taken. But the
+king and his son foresaw all this before, yea, had sufficiently provided
+for the relief of Mansoul, though they told not everybody thereof.
+Wherefore, after consultation, the son of Shaddai--a sweet and comely
+person, and one that always had great affection for those that were in
+affliction--having striven hard with his father, promised that he would
+be his servant to recover Mansoul. The purport of this agreement was
+that at a certain time, prefixed by both, the king's son should take a
+journey into the country of Universe, and there, in a way of justice and
+equity, make amends for the follies of Mansoul, and lay the foundation
+of her perfect deliverance.
+
+Now King Shaddai thought good at the first not to send his army by the
+hand and conduct of brave Emmanuel, his son, but under the hand of some
+of his servants, to see first by them the temper of Mansoul, and whether
+they would be won to the obedience of their king. So they came up to
+Mansoul under the conduct of four stout generals, each man being captain
+of ten thousand men, and having his standard-bearer.
+
+Having travelled for many days, at the king's cost, not hurting or
+abusing any, they came within sight of Mansoul, the which, when they
+saw, the captains could for their hearts do no less than bewail the
+condition of the town, for they quickly perceived it was prostrate to
+the will of Diabolus.
+
+Well, before the king's forces had set before Mansoul three days,
+Captain Boanerges commanded his trumpeter to go down to Eargate to
+summon Mansoul to give audience to the message he was commanded to
+deliver, but there was none that appeared to give answer or regard.
+
+Again and again was the summons sounded, till at last the townsmen came
+up--having first made Eargate as sure as they could. So my lord
+Incredulity, came up and showed himself over the wall. But when the
+captain had set eyes on him he cried out aloud, "This is not he; where
+is my lord Understanding, the ancient mayor of the town of Mansoul?"
+Then stood forth the four captains, and, taking no notice of the giant
+Diabolus, each addressed himself to the town of Mansoul; but their brave
+speeches the town refused to hear, yet the sound thereof beat against
+Eargate, though the force thereof could not break it open.
+
+Then Diabolus commanded the lord mayor Incredulity to give answer, and
+his oration was seconded by desperate Will-be-will, while the recorder,
+whose name was Forget-good, followed with threats. Then did the town of
+Mansoul shout for joy, as if by Diabolus and his crew some great
+advantage had been obtained over the captains. They also rang the bells,
+and sang and made merry, and danced for joy upon the walls. Now, when
+the captains heard the answer of the great ones, and they could not get
+a hearing from the old natives of the town, they resolved to try it out
+by the power of the arm; so with their slings they battered the houses,
+and with rams they sought to break Eargate open, but Mansoul stood it
+out so lustily that after several skirmishes and brisk encounters they
+made a fair retreat and entrenched themselves in their winter quarters.
+
+But now could not Mansoul sleep securely as before, nor could they go to
+their debaucheries with quietness, as in times past, for they had from
+the camp of Shaddai such frequent warm alarms, yea, alarms upon alarms,
+first at one gate and then at another, and again at all the gates at
+once, that they were broken as to former peace; yea, so distressed were
+they that I daresay Diabolus, their king, had in these days his rest
+much broken. And by degrees new thoughts possessed the minds of the men
+of the town. Some would say, "There is no living thus." Others would
+then reply, "This will be over shortly." Then a third would answer, "Let
+us turn to King Shaddai, and so put an end to all these troubles." The
+old gentlemen, too, Mr. Conscience, the recorder that was so before
+Diabolus took Mansoul, began to talk aloud, and his words were now like
+great claps of thunder. Yea, so far as I could gather, the town had been
+surrendered before now had it not been for the opposition of old
+Incredulity and the fickleness of my lord Will-be-will.
+
+They of the king's army this winter sent three times to Mansoul to
+submit herself, and these summonses, especially the two last, so
+distressed the town that presently they called a consultation for a
+parley, and offered to come to an agreement on certain terms, but they
+were such that the captains, jointly and with the highest disdain,
+rejected, and returned to their trenches.
+
+The captains then gathered themselves together for a conference, and
+agreed that a petition should forthwith be drawn up and forwarded by a
+fit man to Shaddai, with speed, that more forces be sent to Mansoul.
+Now, the king at sight of the petition was glad; but how much more,
+think you, when it was seconded by his son. Wherefore, the king called
+to him Emmanuel, his son, and said, "Come now, therefore, my son, and
+prepare thyself for war, for thou shalt go to my camp at Mansoul; thou
+shalt also there prosper and prevail."
+
+The time for the setting forth being expired, the king's son addresses
+himself for the march and taketh with him five noble captains and their
+forces. So they sat down before the town, not now against the gates
+only, but environed it round on every side. But first, for two days
+together, they hung out the white flag to give the townsfolk time to
+consider; but they, as if they were unconcerned, made no reply to this
+favourable signal, so they then set the red flag upon the mount called
+Mount Justice.
+
+When Emmanuel had put all things in readiness to bid Diabolus battle, he
+sent again to know of the town of Mansoul if in peaceable manner they
+would yield themselves. They then, together with Diabolus, their king,
+called a council of war, and resolved on certain propositions that
+should be offered to Emmanuel.
+
+Now, there was in the town of Mansoul an old man, a Diabolonian, and his
+name was Mr. Loath-to-Stoop, a stiff man in his way, and a great doer
+for Diabolus; him, therefore, they sent, and put into his mouth what he
+should say. But none of his proposals would Emmanuel grant--all his
+ensnaring propositions were rejected, and Mr. Loath-to-Stoop departed.
+
+Then was an alarm sounded, and the battering-rams were played, and the
+slings whirled stones into the town amain, and thus the battle began.
+And the word was at that time "Emmanuel." First Captain Boanerges made
+three assaults, most fierce, one after another, upon Eargate, to the
+shaking of the posts thereof. Captain Conviction also made up fast with
+Boanerges, and both discovering that the gate began to yield, they
+commanded that the rams should still be played against it. But Captain
+Conviction, going up very near to the gate, was with great force driven
+back, and received three wounds in the mouth. Nor did Captain Good-hope
+nor Captain Charity come behind in this most desperate fight, for they
+too so behaved at Eyegate that they had almost broken it quite open. And
+this took away the hearts of many of the Diabolonians. As for Will-be-
+will, I never saw him so daunted in my life, and some say he got a wound
+in the leg.
+
+When the battle was over Diabolus again attempted to make terms by
+proposing a surrender on the condition that he should remain in the town
+as Emmanuel's deputy, and press upon the people a reformation according
+to law; but Emmanuel replied that nothing would be regarded that he
+could propose, for he had neither conscience to God nor love to the town
+of Mansoul. Diabolus therefore withdrew himself from the walls to the
+fort in the heart of the town, and, filled with despair of retaining the
+town in his hands, resolved to do it what mischief he could; for, said
+he, "Better demolish the place and leave it a heap of ruins than that it
+should be a habitation for Emmanuel."
+
+Knowing the next battle would issue in his being master of the place,
+Emmanuel gave out a royal commandment to all his men of war to show
+themselves men of war against Diabolus and all Diabolonians, but
+favourable and meek to the old inhabitants of Mansoul. Then, after three
+or four notable charges, Eargate was burst open, and the bolts and bars
+broken into a thousand pieces. Then did the prince's trumpets sound, the
+captains shout, the town shake, and Diabolus retreat to his hold. And
+there was a great slaughter till the Diabolonians lay dead in every
+corner--though too many were yet alive in Mansoul. Now, the old recorder
+and my lord Understanding, with some others of the chief of the town,
+came together, and jointly agreed to draw up a petition, and send it to
+Emmanuel while he sat in the gate of Mansoul. The contents of the
+petition were these: "That they--the old inhabitants of the deplorable
+town of Mansoul--confessed their sin, and were sorry that they had
+offended his princely majesty, and prayed that he would spare their
+lives." Unto this petition he gave no answer. After some time and
+travail the gate of the castle was beaten open, and so a way was made to
+go into the hold where Diabolus had hid himself.
+
+Now, when he was come to the castle gates he commanded Diabolus to
+surrender himself into his hands. But, oh, how loath was the beast to
+appear! How he stuck at it! How he shrunk! How he cringed! Then Emmanuel
+commanded, and they took Diabolus, and bound him first in chains, and
+led him to the market-place, and stripped him of his armour. Thus having
+made Diabolus naked in the eyes of Mansoul, the prince commands that he
+shall be bound with chains to his chariot-wheels, and he rode in triumph
+over him quite through the town. And, having finished this part of his
+triumph over Diabolus, he turned him up in the midst of his contempt and
+shame. Then went he from Emmanuel, and out of his camp to inherit
+parched places in a salt land, seeking rest but finding none.
+
+Now, the prince, having by special orders put my lord Understanding, Mr.
+Conscience, and my lord Will-be-will in ward, they again drew up a
+petition and sent it to Emmanuel by the hand of Mr. Would-Live, and this
+being unanswered, they used as their messenger Mr. Desires-Awake, and
+with him went Mr. Wet-Eyes, a near neighbour. Then the prisoners were
+ordered to go down to the camp and appear before the prince. This they
+did with drooping spirits and ropes round their necks. But the prince
+gave them their pardon, embraced them, took away their ropes, and put
+chains of gold round their necks. He also sent by the recorder a pardon
+for all the people of Mansoul.
+
+Then the prince commanded that the image of Diabolus should be taken
+down from the place where it was set up, and that they should utterly
+destroy it without the town wall; and that the image of Shaddai, his
+father, should be set up again with his own. Moreover, he renewed the
+charter of the city, and brought forth out of his treasury white
+glittering robes and granted to the people that they should put them on,
+so that they were put into fine linen, white and clean. Then said the
+prince unto them, "This, O Mansoul, is my livery, and the badge by which
+mine are known from the servants of others. Wear them if you would be
+known by the world to be mine."
+
+
+_IV.--The Downfall_
+
+
+But there was a man in the town named Mr. Carnal-Security, and he
+brought this corporation into great, grievous bondage. When Emmanuel
+perceived that through the policy of Mr. Carnal-Security the hearts of
+men were chilled and abated in their practical love for him, he in
+private manner withdrew himself first from his palace, then to the gate
+of the town, and so away from Mansoul till they should more earnestly
+seek his face.
+
+Then the Diabolonians who yet dwelt in Mansoul sent letters to Diabolus,
+who promised to come to their assistance for the ruin of the town with
+twenty thousand Doubters. Diabolus suddenly making an assault on
+Feelgate, the gate was forced and the prince's men were compelled to
+betake themselves to the castle as the stronghold of the town, leaving
+the townsmen open to the ravages of the Doubters. Still the castle held
+out, and more urgent petitions to Emmanuel, carried by Captain Credence,
+brought at last the assurance that he would come presently to the relief
+of the town.
+
+Indeed, before that time Diabolus had thought it wise to withdraw his
+men from the town to the plain; but here the Doubters, being caught
+between the defenders of the city and the rescuing army of Emmanuel,
+were slain to the last man, and buried in the plains.
+
+Even yet Diabolus was not satisfied with his defeat, but determined on a
+last attempt upon the town, his army being made up of ten thousand
+Doubters and fifteen thousand Blood-men, all rugged villains. But Mr.
+Prywell discovered their coming, and they were put to route by the
+prince's captains, the Blood-men being surrounded and captured.
+
+And so Mansoul arrived at some degree of peace and quiet, and her prince
+also abode within her borders. Then the prince appointed a day when he
+should meet the whole of the townsmen in the market-place, and they
+being come together, he said, "Now, my Mansoul, I have returned to thee
+in peace, and thy transgressions against me are as if they had not been.
+Nor shall it be with thee as in former days, but I will do better, for
+thee than at the beginning.
+
+"Yet a little while, and I will take down this famous town of Mansoul,
+street and stone, to the ground, and will set it up in such strength and
+glory in mine own country as it never did see in the kingdom where now
+it is placed. There, O my Mansoul, thou shalt be afraid of murderers no
+more, of Diabolonians no more. There shall be no more plots, nor
+contrivances, nor designs against thee. But first I charge thee that
+thou dost hereafter keep more white and clean the liveries which I gave
+thee. When thy garments are white, the world will count thee mine. And
+now that thou mayest keep them white I have provided for thee an open
+fountain to wash thy garments in. I have oft-times delivered thee, and
+for all this I ask thee nothing but that thou bear in mind my love.
+Nothing can hurt thee but sin, nothing can grieve me but sin, nothing
+make thee pause before thy foes but sin. Watch! Behold, I lay none other
+burden upon thee--hold fast till I come!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+The Pilgrim's Progress
+
+      The "Pilgrim's Progress" was begun during Bunyan's second and
+     briefer term of imprisonment in Bedford gaol. As originally
+     conceived, the work was something entirely different from the
+     masterpiece that was finally produced. Engaged upon a
+     religious treatise, Bunyan had occasion to compare Christian
+     progress to a pilgrimage--a simile by no means uncommon even
+     in those days. Soon he discovered a number of points which had
+     escaped his predecessors, and countless images began to crowd
+     quickly upon his imaginative brain. Released at last from
+     gaol, he still continued his work, acquainting no one with his
+     labours, and receiving the help of none. The "Pilgrim," on its
+     appearance in 1678, was but a moderate success; but it was not
+     long before its charm made itself felt, and John Bunyan
+     counted his readers by the thousand in Scotland, in the
+     Colonies, in Holland, and among the Huguenots of France.
+     Within ten years 100,000 copies were sold. With the exception
+     of the Bible, it is, perhaps, the most widely-read book in the
+     English language, and has been translated into seventy foreign
+     tongues.
+
+
+_I.--The Battle with Apollyon_
+
+
+As I walked through the wilderness of this world, I lighted on a certain
+place where there was a den, and laid me down in that place to sleep;
+and as I slept, I dreamed a dream. I dreamed I saw a man, clothed with
+rags, standing with his face from his own house, a book in his hand, and
+a great burden upon his back.
+
+"O my dear wife and children!" he said, "I am informed that our city
+will be burnt with fire from heaven. We shall all come to ruin unless we
+can find a way of escape!"
+
+His relations and friends thought that some distemper had got into his
+head; but he kept crying, in spite of all that they said to quieten him,
+"What shall I do to be saved?" He looked this way and that way, but
+could not tell which road to take. And a man named Evangelist came to
+him, and he said to Evangelist, "Whither must I fly?"
+
+"Do you see yonder wicket gate?" said Evangelist, pointing with his
+finger over a very wide field. "Go there, and knock, and you will be
+told what to do."
+
+I saw in my dream that the man began to run, and his wife and children
+cried after him to return, but the man ran on, crying, "Life! life!
+eternal life!"
+
+Two of his neighbours pursued him and overtook him. Their names were
+Obstinate and Pliable.
+
+"Come, come, friend Christian," said Obstinate. "Why are you hurrying
+away in this manner from the City of Destruction, in which you were
+born?"
+
+"Because I have read in my book," replied Christian, "that it will be
+consumed with fire from heaven. I pray you, good neighbours, come with
+me, and seek for some way of escape."
+
+After listening to all that Christian said, Pliable resolved to go with
+him, but Obstinate returned to the City of Destruction in scorn.
+
+"What! Leave my friends and comforts for such a brain-sick fellow as
+you? No, I will go back to my own home."
+
+Christian and Pliable walked on together, without looking whither they
+were going, and in the midst of the plain they fell into a very miry
+slough, which was called the Slough of Despond. Here they wallowed for a
+time, and Christian, because of the burden that was on his back, began
+to sink in the mire.
+
+"Is this the happiness you told me of?" said Pliable. "If I get out
+again with my life, you shall make your journey alone."
+
+With a desperate effort he got out of the mire, and went back, leaving
+Christian alone in the Slough of Despond. As Christian struggled under
+his burden towards the wicket gate, I saw in my dream that a man came to
+him, whose name was Help, and drew him out, and set him upon sound
+ground. But before Christian could get to the wicket gate, Mr. Worldly
+Wiseman came and spoke to him.
+
+"How now, good fellow!" said Mr. Worldly Wiseman. "Where are you going
+with that heavy burden on your back?"
+
+"To yonder wicket gate," said Christian. "For there, Evangelist told me,
+I shall be put into a way to be rid of my heavy burden."
+
+"Evangelist is a dangerous and troublesome fellow," said Mr. Worldly
+Wiseman. "Do not follow his counsel. Hear me: I am older than you. I can
+tell you an easy way to get rid of your burden. You see the village on
+yonder high hill?"
+
+"Yes," said Christian. "I remember the village is called Morality."
+
+"It is," said Mr. Worldly Wiseman. "There you will find a very judicious
+gentleman whose name is Mr. Legality. If he is not in, inquire for his
+son, Mr. Civility. Both of them have great skill in helping men to get
+burdens off their shoulders."
+
+Christian resolved to follow Mr. Worldly Wiseman's advice. But, as he
+was painfully climbing up the high hill, Evangelist came up to him, and
+said, "Are you not the man that I found crying in the City of
+Destruction, and directed to the little wicket gate? How is it that you
+have gone so far out of the way?"
+
+Christian blushed for shame, and said that he had been led astray by Mr.
+Worldly Wiseman.
+
+"Mr. Worldly Wiseman," said Evangelist, "is a wicked man. Mr. Legality
+is a cheat, and his son, Mr. Civility, is a hypocrite. If you listen to
+them they will beguile you of your salvation, and turn you from the
+right way."
+
+Evangelist then set Christian in the true path which led to the wicket
+gate, over which was written, "Knock, and it shall be opened unto you."
+And Christian knocked, and a grave person, named Goodwill, opened the
+gate and let him in. I saw in my dream that Christian asked him to help
+him off with the burden that was upon his back, and Goodwill pointed to
+a narrow way running from the wicket gate, and said, "Do you see that
+narrow way? That is the way you must go. Keep to it, and do not turn
+down any of the wide and crooked roads, and you will soon come to the
+place of deliverance, where your burden will fall from your back of
+itself."
+
+Christian then took his leave of Goodwill, and climbed up the narrow way
+till he came to a place upon which stood a cross. And I saw in my dream
+that as Christian came to the cross, his burden fell from off his back,
+and he became glad and lightsome. He gave three leaps for joy, and went
+on his way singing, and at nightfall he came to a very stately palace,
+the name of which was Beautiful. Four grave and lovely damsels, named
+Charity, Discretion, Prudence, and Piety, met him at the threshold,
+saying, "Come in, thou blessed of the Lord! This palace was built on
+purpose to entertain such pilgrims as thou."
+
+Christian sat talking with the lovely damsels until supper was ready,
+and then they led him to a table that was furnished with fat things, and
+excellently fine wines. And after Christian had refreshed himself, the
+damsels showed him into a large chamber, whose window opened towards the
+sun-rising. The name of the chamber was Peace, and there Christian slept
+till break of day. Then he awoke, singing for joy, and the damsels took
+him into the armoury, and dressed him for battle. They harnessed him in
+armour of proof, and gave him a stout shield and a good sword; for, they
+said, he would have to fight many a battle before he got to the
+Celestial City.
+
+And I saw in my dream that Christian went down the hill on which the
+House Beautiful stood, and came to a valley, that was called the Valley
+of Humiliation, where he was met by a foul fiend, Apollyon.
+
+"Prepare to die!" said Apollyon, straddling over the whole breadth of
+the narrow way. "I swear by my infernal den that thou shalt go no
+further. Here will I spill thy soul."
+
+With that, he threw a flaming dart at his breast, but Christian caught
+it on his shield. Then Apollyon rushed upon him, throwing darts as thick
+as hail, and, notwithstanding all that Christian could do, Apollyon
+wounded him, and made him draw back. The sore combat lasted for half a
+day, and though Christian resisted as manfully as he could, he grew
+weaker and weaker by reason of his wounds. At last, Apollyon, espying
+his opportunity, closed in on Christian, and wrestling with him, gave
+him a dreadful fall, and Christian's sword flew out of his hand.
+
+"Ah!" cried Apollyon, "I am sure of thee now!"
+
+He pressed him almost to death, and Christian began to despair of life.
+But, as God would have it, while Apollyon was fetching his last blow, to
+make an end of this good man, Christian nimbly reached out his hand for
+his sword, and caught it, and gave him a deadly thrust. With that,
+Apollyon spread forth his wings, and sped him away, and Christian saw
+him no more.
+
+Then, with some leaves from the tree of life, Christian healed his
+wounds, and with his sword drawn in his hand, he marched through the
+Valley of Humiliation, without meeting any more enemies.
+
+But at the end of the valley was another, called the Valley of the
+Shadow of Death. On the right hand of this valley was a very deep ditch;
+it was the ditch into which the blind have led the blind in all ages,
+and have there miserably perished. And on the left hand was a dangerous
+quagmire, into which, if even a good man falls, he finds no bottom for
+his foot to stand on. The pathway here was exceeding narrow and very
+dark, and Christian was hard put to it to get through safely. And right
+by the wayside, in the midst of the valley, was the mouth of hell, and
+out of it came flame and smoke in great abundance, with sparks and
+hideous noises. But when the hosts of hell came at him, as he travelled
+on through the smoke and flame and dreadful noise, he cried out, "I will
+walk in the strength of the Lord God!"
+
+Thereupon, the fiends gave over, and came no further; and suddenly the
+day broke, and Christian turned and saw all the hobgoblins, satyrs, and
+dragons of the pit far behind him, and though he was now got into the
+most dangerous part of the Valley of the Shadow of Death, he was no
+longer afraid. The place was so set, here with snares, traps, gins and
+nets, and there with pits and holes, and shelvings, that, had it been
+dark, he would surely have perished. But it was now clear day, and by
+walking warily Christian got safely to the end of the valley. And at the
+end of the valley, he saw another pilgrim marching on at some distance
+before him.
+
+"Ho, ho!" shouted Christian. "Stay, and I will be your companion."
+
+"No, I cannot stay," said the other pilgrim, whose name was Faithful. "I
+am upon my life, and the avenger of blood is behind me."
+
+Putting out all his strength, Christian quickly got up with Faithful.
+Then I saw in my dream they went very lovingly on together, and had
+sweet discourse of all things that had happened to them in their
+pilgrimage; for they had been neighbours in the City of Destruction, and
+both of them were bound for the Delectable Mountains, and the Celestial
+City beyond. They were now in a great wilderness, and they walked on
+together till they came to the town of Vanity, at which a fair is kept
+all the year long, called Vanity Fair.
+
+
+_II.--Vanity Fair_
+
+
+I saw in my dream that Christian and Faithful tried to avoid seeing
+Vanity Fair; but this they could not do, because the way to the
+Celestial City lies through the town where this lusty fair is kept.
+About 5,000 years ago, Beelzebub, Apollyon, and the rest of the fiends
+saw by the path which the pilgrims made, that their way lay through the
+town of Vanity. So they set up a fair there, in which all sorts of
+vanity should be sold every day in the year. Among the merchandise sold
+at this fair are lands, honours, titles, lusts, pleasures, and
+preferments; delights of all kinds, as servants, gold, silver, and
+precious stones; murders and thefts; blood and bodies, yea, and lives
+and souls. Moreover, at this fair, there are at all times to be seen
+jugglings, cheats, games, plays, fools, apes, knaves, and rogues, and
+that of every sort.
+
+When Christian and Faithful came through Vanity Fair everybody began to
+stare and mock at them, for they were clothed in a raiment different
+from the raiment of the multitude that traded in the fair, and their
+speech also was different, and few could understand what they said. But
+what amused the townspeople most of all was that the pilgrims set light
+by all their wares.
+
+"What will ye buy? What will ye buy?" said one merchant to them
+mockingly.
+
+"We buy the truth," said Christian and Faithful, looking gravely upon
+him.
+
+At this some men began to taunt the pilgrims, and some tried to strike
+them; and things at last came to a hubbub and great stir, and all the
+fair was thrown into disorder. Thereupon, Christian and Faithful were
+arrested as disturbers of the peace. After being beaten and rolled in
+the dirt, they were put into a cage, and made a spectacle to all the men
+of the fair. The next day they were again beaten, and led up and down
+the fair in heavy chains for an example and terror to others.
+
+But some of the better sort were moved to take their part; and this so
+angered the chief men in the town that they resolved to put the pilgrims
+to death. They were therefore indicted before the Lord Chief Justice
+Hategood with having disturbed the trade of Vanity Fair, and won a party
+over to their own pernicious way of thinking, in contempt of the law of
+Prince Beelzebub. Mr. Envy, Mr. Superstition, and Mr. Pickthank bore
+witness against them; and the jurymen, on hearing Faithful affirm that
+the customs of their town of Vanity were opposed to the spirit of
+Christianity, brought him in guilty of high treason to Beelzebub. No
+doubt, they would have condemned Christian also; but, by the mercy of
+God, he escaped from prison, being assisted by one of the men of the
+town, named Hopeful, who had come over to his way of thinking.
+
+Faithful was tied to a stake, and scourged, and stoned, and burnt to
+death. But I saw in my dream that the Shining Ones came with a chariot
+and horses, and made their way through the multitude to the flames in
+which Faithful was burning, and put him in the chariot, and, with the
+sound of trumpets, carried him up through the clouds, and on to the gate
+of the Celestial City.
+
+So Christian was left alone to continue his journey; but I saw in my
+dream that, as he was going out of the town of Vanity, Hopeful came up
+to him and said that he would be his companion. And thus it ever is.
+Whenever a man dies to bear testimony to the truth, another rises out of
+his ashes to carry on his work.
+
+Christian was in no wise cast down by the death of Faithful, but went on
+his way, singing,
+
+    Hail, Faithful, hail! Thy goodly works survive;
+    And though they killed thee, thou art still alive.
+
+And he was especially comforted by Hopeful telling him that there were a
+great many men of the better sort in Vanity Fair who were now resolved
+to undertake the pilgrimage to the Celestial City. Some way beyond
+Vanity Fair was a delicate plain, called Ease, where Christian and
+Hopeful went with much content. But at the farther side of that plain
+was a little hill, which was named Lucre. In this hill was a silver-mine
+which was very dangerous to enter, for many men who had gone to dig
+silver there had been smothered in the bottom by damps and noisome airs.
+Four men from Vanity Fair--Mr. Money-love, Mr. Hold-the-World, Mr.
+By-Ends, and Mr. Save-All--were going into the silver-mine as Christian
+and Hopeful passed by.
+
+"Tarry for us," said Mr. Money-love; "and when we have got a little
+riches to take us on our journey, we will come with you."
+
+Hopeful was willing to wait for his fellow-townsmen, but Christian told
+him that, having entered the mine, they would never come out; and,
+besides, that treasure is a snare to them that seek it, for it hindereth
+their pilgrimage. And he spoke truly; for I saw in my dream that some
+were killed by falling into the mine as they gazed from the brink, and
+the rest who went down to dig were poisoned by the vapours in the pit.
+
+In the meantime, Christian and Hopeful came to the river of life, and
+walked along the bank with great delight. They drank of the water of the
+river, which was pleasant and enlivening to their weary spirits, and
+they ate of the fruit of the green trees that grew by the river side.
+Then, finding a fair meadow covered with lilies, they laid down and
+slept; and in the morning they rose up, wondrously refreshed, and
+continued their journey along the bank of the river. But the way soon
+grew rough and stony, and seeing on their left hand a stile across the
+meadow called By-Path Meadow, Christian leaped over it, and said to
+Hopeful, "Come, good Hopeful, let us go this way. It is much easier."
+
+"I am afraid," said Hopeful, "that it will take us out of the right
+road."
+
+But Christian persuaded him to jump over the stile, and there they got
+into a path which was very easy for their feet. But they had not gone
+very far when it began to rain and thunder and lighten in a most
+dreadful manner, and night came on apace, and stumbling along in the
+darkness, they reached Doubting Castle, and the lord thereof, Giant
+Despair, took them and threw them into a dark and dismal dungeon. Here
+they lay for three days without one bit of bread or drop of drink. On
+the third day Giant Despair came and flogged them with a great crabtree
+cudgel, and so disabled them that they were not even able to rise up
+from the mire of their dungeon floor. And indeed, they could scarcely
+keep their heads above the mud in which they lay.
+
+Now Giant Despair had a wife, and her name was Diffidence; and when she
+found that, in spite of their flogging, Christian and Hopeful were still
+alive, she advised her husband to kill them outright. It happened,
+however, to be sunshiny weather, and sunshiny weather always made Giant
+Despair fall into a helpless fit, in which he lost for the time the use
+of his hands. So all he could do was to try and persuade his prisoners
+to kill themselves with knife or halter.
+
+"Why," said he to Christian and Hopeful, "should you choose to live? You
+know you can never get out of Doubting Castle. What! Will you slowly
+starve to death like rats in a hole, instead of putting a sudden end to
+your misery, like men. I tell you again, you will never get out."
+
+But when he was gone, Christian and Hopeful went down on their knees in
+their dungeon and prayed long and earnestly. Then Christian suddenly
+bethought himself, and after fumbling in his bosom, he drew out a key,
+saying, "What a fool am I to lie in a dismal dungeon when I can walk at
+liberty! Here is the key that I have been carrying in my bosom, called
+Promise, that will open every lock in Doubting Castle."
+
+He at once tried it at the dungeon door, and turned the bolt with ease.
+He then led Hopeful to the iron gate of the castle, and though the lock
+went desperately hard, yet the key opened it. But as the gate moved, it
+made such a creaking that Giant Despair was aroused.
+
+Hastily rising up, the giant set out to pursue the prisoners; but seeing
+that all the land was now flooded with sunshine, he fell into one of his
+helpless fits, and could not even get as far as the castle gate.
+
+
+_III.--The Celestial City_
+
+
+Having thus got safely out of Doubting Castle, Christian and Hopeful
+made their way back to the banks of the river of life, and, following
+the rough and stony way, they came at last to the Delectable Mountains.
+And going up the mountains they beheld the gardens and orchards, the
+vineyards, the fountains of water; and here they drank and washed
+themselves, and freely ate of the pleasant grapes of the vineyards. Now,
+on top of the mountains there were four shepherds feeding their flocks,
+and the pilgrims went to them, and, leaning upon their staffs, they
+asked them the way to the Celestial City. And the shepherds took them by
+the hand and led them to the top of Clear, the highest of all the
+Delectable Mountains, and the pilgrims looked and saw, faintly and very
+far off, the gate and the glory of the Celestial City.
+
+And I saw in my dream that the two pilgrims went down the Delectable
+Mountains along the narrow way, and after walking some distance they
+came to a place where the path branched. Here they stood still for a
+while, considering which way to take, for both ways seemed right. And as
+they were considering, behold, a man black of flesh and covered with a
+white robe, came up to them, and offered to lead them down the true way.
+But when they had followed him for some time they found that he had led
+them into a crooked road, and there they were entangled in a net.
+
+Here they lay bewailing themselves, and at last they espied a Shining
+One coming toward them, with a whip in his hand.
+
+"We are poor pilgrims going to the Celestial City," said Christian and
+Hopeful. "A black man clothed in white offered to lead us there, but
+entangled us instead in this net."
+
+"It was Flatterer that did this," said the Shining One. "He is a false
+apostle that hath transformed himself into an angel."
+
+I saw in my dream that he then rent the net and let the pilgrims out.
+Then he commanded them to lie down, and when they did so, he chastised
+them with his whip of cords, to teach them to walk in the good way, and
+refrain from following the advice of evil flatterers. And they thanked
+him for his kindness, and went softly along the right path, singing for
+very joy; and after passing through the Enchanted Land, which was full
+of vapours that made them dull and sleepy, they came to the sweet and
+pleasant country of Beulah. In this country the sun shone night and day,
+and the air was so bright and clear that they could see the Celestial
+City to which they were going. Yea, they met there some of the
+inhabitants, for the Shining Ones often walked in the Land of Beulah,
+because it was on the borders of Heaven.
+
+As Christian and Hopeful drew near to the city their strength began to
+fail. It was builded of pearls and precious stones, and the streets were
+paved with gold; and what with the natural glory of the city, and the
+dazzling radiance of the sunbeams that fell upon it, Christian grew sick
+with desire as he beheld it; and Hopeful, too, was stricken with the
+same malady. And, walking on very slowly, full of the pain of longing,
+they came at last to the gate of the city. But between them and the gate
+there was a river, and the river was very deep, and no bridge went over
+it. And when Christian asked the Shining Ones how he could get to the
+gate of the city, they said to him, "You must go through the river, or
+you cannot come to the gate."
+
+"Is the river very deep?" said Christian.
+
+"You will find it deeper or shallower," said the Shining Ones,
+"according to the depth or shallowness of your belief in the King of our
+city."
+
+The two pilgrims then entered the river. Christian at once began to
+sink, and, crying out to his good friend Hopeful, he said, "I sink in
+deep waters! The billows go over my head! All the waves go over me."
+
+"Be of good cheer, my brother," said Hopeful, "I feel the bottom, and it
+is good!"
+
+With that a great darkness and horror fell upon Christian; he could no
+longer see before him, and he was in much fear that he would perish in
+the river, and never enter in at the gate. When he recovered, he found
+he had got to the other side, and Hopeful was already there waiting for
+him.
+
+And I saw in my dream that the city stood upon a mighty hill; but the
+pilgrims went up with ease, because they had left their mortal garments
+behind them in the river.
+
+While they were thus drawing to the gate, behold, a company of the
+heavenly host came out to meet them. With them were several of the
+King's trumpeters, clothed in white and shining raiment, who made even
+the heavens to echo with their shouting and the sound of their trumpets.
+
+Then all the bells in the city began to ring welcome, and the gate was
+opened wide, and the two pilgrims entered. And lo! as they entered they
+were transfigured; and they had raiment put on that shone like gold. And
+Shining Ones gave them harps to praise their King with, and crowns in
+token of honour.
+
+And as the gates were opened, I looked in, and behold, the streets were
+paved with gold; and in them walked many men, with crowns on their
+heads, palms in their hands, and golden harps to sing praises withal.
+There were also of them that had wings and they answered one another
+saying, "Holy, holy, holy is the Lord!" And after that they shut up the
+gates, which, when I had seen, I wished myself among them. Then I awoke,
+and behold! it was a dream.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+FANNY BURNEY
+
+
+Evelina
+
+      "Evelina" was the first tale written by a woman, and
+     purporting to be a picture of life and manners, that lived or
+     deserved to live. It took away reproach from the novel. The
+     opinion is Macaulay's. In many respects the publication of
+     "Evelina" resembled that of "Jane Eyre," by Charlotte Brontë,
+     a century later. It was issued anonymously, by a firm that did
+     not know the name of the writer. Only the children of the
+     household from which the book came knew its origin. It
+     attained an immediate and immense success, which gave the
+     author, a shrinking and modest little body, a foremost place
+     in the literary world of her day. Fanny Burney, the second
+     daughter of Dr. Burney, was born in 1752, and published
+     "Evelina, or a Young Lady's Entrance into the World," in 1778.
+     She had picked up an education at home, without any tuition
+     whatever, but had the advantage of browsing in her father's
+     large miscellaneous library, and observing his brilliant
+     circle of friends. She knew something of the Johnson set
+     before she wrote "Evelina," and became the doctor's pet.
+     Later, Fanny Burney wrote "Cecilia," for which she received
+     two thousand guineas, and "Camilla," for which she received
+     three thousand guineas.
+
+
+_I.--Deserted_
+
+
+LADY HOWARD TO THE REV. MR. VILLARS
+
+Can anything be more painful to the friendly mind than a necessity of
+communicating disagreeable intelligence? I have just had a letter from
+Madame Duval, who has lately used her utmost endeavours to obtain a
+faithful account of whatever related to her ill-advised daughter; and
+having some reason to apprehend that upon her death-bed her daughter
+bequeathed an infant orphan to the world, she says that if you, with
+whom she understands the child is placed, will procure authentic proofs
+of its relationship to her, you may send it to Paris, where she will
+properly provide for it.
+
+Her letter has excited in my daughter, Mrs. Mirvan, a strong desire to
+be informed of the motives which induced Madame Duval to abandon the
+unfortunate Lady Belmont at a time when a mother's protection was
+peculiarly necessary for her peace and reputation, and I cannot satisfy
+Mrs. Mirvan otherwise than by applying to you.
+
+MR. VILLARS TO LADY HOWARD
+
+Your ladyship did but too well foresee the perplexity and uneasiness of
+which Madame Duval's letter has been productive. In regard to my answer
+I most humbly request your ladyship to write to this effect: "That I
+would not upon any account intentionally offend Madame Duval, but that I
+have unanswerable reasons for detaining her granddaughter at present in
+England."
+
+Complying with the request of Mrs. Mirvan, I would say that I had the
+honour to accompany Mr. Evelyn, the grandfather of my young charge, when
+upon his travels, in the capacity of a tutor. His unhappy marriage,
+immediately upon his return to England, with Madame Duval, then a
+waiting-girl at a tavern, contrary to the entreaties of his friends,
+induced him to fix his abode in France. He survived the ill-judged
+marriage but two years.
+
+Mr. Evelyn left me the sole guardianship of his daughter's person till
+her eighteenth year, but in regard to fortune he left her wholly
+dependent on her mother. Miss Evelyn was brought up under my care, and,
+except when at school, under my roof. In her eighteenth year, her
+mother, then married to Monsieur Duval, sent for her to Paris, and at
+the instigation of her husband tyrannically endeavoured to effect a
+union between Miss Evelyn and one of his nephews. Miss Evelyn soon grew
+weary of such usage, and rashly, and without a witness, consented to a
+private marriage with Sir John Belmont, a very profligate young man, who
+had but too successfully found means to insinuate himself into her
+favour. He promised to conduct her to England--he did. O madam, you know
+the rest! Disappointed of the fortune he expected by the inexcusable
+rancour of the Duvals, he infamously burnt the certificate of their
+marriage and denied that they had ever been united!
+
+She flew to my protection, and the moment that gave birth to her infant
+put an end at once to the sorrows and the life of its mother. That
+child, madam, shall never know the loss she has sustained. Not only my
+affection, but my humanity recoils at the barbarous idea of deserting
+the sacred trust reposed in me.
+
+
+_II.--A Visit to Town_
+
+
+LADY HOWARD TO MR. VILLARS
+
+Your last letter gave me infinite pleasure. Do you think you could bear
+to part with your young companion for two or three months? Mrs. Mirvan
+proposes to spend the ensuing spring in London, whither for the first
+time my grandchild will accompany her, and it is their earnest wish that
+your amiable ward may share equally with her own daughter the care and
+attention of Mrs. Mirvan. What do you say to our scheme?
+
+MR. VILLARS TO LADY HOWARD
+
+I am grieved, madam, to appear obstinate, and I blush to incur the
+imputation of selfishness. My young ward is of an age that happiness is
+eager to attend--let her then enjoy it! I commit her to the protection
+of your ladyship. Restore her but to me all innocence as you receive
+her, and the fondest hope of my heart will be amply gratified.
+
+EVELINA ANVILLE TO MR. VILLARS
+
+We are to go on Monday to a private ball given by Mrs. Stanley, a very
+fashionable lady of Mrs. Mirvan's acquaintance. I am afraid of this
+ball; for, as you know, I have never danced but at school. However, Miss
+Mirvan says there is nothing in it. Yet I wish it was over.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+We passed a most extraordinary evening. A _private_ ball this was
+called; but, my dear sir, I believe I saw half the world!
+
+The gentlemen, as they passed and repassed, looked as if they thought we
+were quite at their disposal, and only waited for the honour of their
+commands; and they sauntered about in an indolent manner, as if with a
+view to keep us in suspense.
+
+Presently a gentleman, who seemed about six-and-twenty years old, gaily,
+but not foppishly dressed, and indeed extremely handsome, with an air of
+mixed politeness and gallantry, desired to know if I would honour him
+with my hand. Well, I bowed, and I am sure I coloured; for indeed I was
+frightened at the thought of dancing before so many strangers _with_ a
+stranger. And so he led me to join in the dance.
+
+He seemed desirous of entering into conversation with me; but I was
+seized with such panic that I could hardly speak a word. He appeared
+surprised at my terror, and, I fear, thought it very strange.
+
+His own conversation was sensible and spirited; his air and address open
+and noble; his manners gentle, attentive, and infinitely engaging; his
+person is all elegance, and his countenance the most animated and
+expressive I have ever seen. The rank of Lord Orville was his least
+recommendation. When he discovered I was totally ignorant of public
+places and public performers, he ingeniously turned the discourse to the
+amusements and occupations of the country; but I was unable to go
+further than a monosyllable in reply, and not even so far as that when I
+could possibly avoid it.
+
+Tired, ashamed, and mortified, I begged at last to sit down till we
+returned home. Lord Orville did me the honour to hand me to the coach,
+talking all the way of the honour I had done _him_! Oh, these
+fashionable people!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+There is no end to the troubles of last night. I have gathered from
+Maria Mirvan the most curious dialogue that ever I heard. Maria was
+taking some refreshment, and saw Lord Orville advancing for the same
+purpose himself, when a gay-looking man, Sir Clement Willoughby, I am
+told, stepped up and cried, "Why, my lord, what have you done with your
+lovely partner?"
+
+"Nothing!" answered Lord Orville, with a smile and a shrug.
+
+"By Jove!" said the man, "she is the most beautiful creature I ever saw
+in my life!"
+
+Lord Orville laughed, but answered, "Yes, a pretty, modest-looking
+girl!"
+
+"Oh, my lord," cried the other, "she is an angel!"
+
+"A silent one," returned he.
+
+"Why, my lord, she looks all intelligence and expression!"
+
+"A poor, weak girl," answered Lord Orville, shaking his head. "Whether
+ignorant or mischievous, I will not pretend to determine; but she
+attended to all I said to her with the most immovable gravity."
+
+Here Maria was called to dance, and so heard no more.
+
+Now, tell me, sir, did you ever know anything more provoking? "A poor,
+weak girl! Ignorant and mischievous!" What mortifying words! I would not
+live here for the world. I care not how soon I leave.
+
+
+_III.--An Unlucky Meeting_
+
+
+EVELINA TO MR. VILLARS
+
+How much will you be surprised, my dearest sir, at receiving so soon
+another letter from London in your Evelina's writing. An accident,
+equally unexpected and disagreeable, has postponed our journey to Lady
+Howard at Howard Grove.
+
+We went last night to see the "Fantocini," a little comedy in French and
+Italian, by puppets, and when it was over, and we waited for our coach,
+a tall, elderly, foreign-looking woman brushed quickly past us, calling
+out, "My God! What shall I do? I have lost my company, and in this place
+I don't know anybody."
+
+"We shall but follow the golden rule," said Mrs. Mirvan, "if we carry
+her to her lodgings."
+
+We therefore admitted her to her coach, to carry her to Oxford Road. Let
+me draw a veil over a scene too cruel for a heart so compassionate as
+yours, and suffice it to know that, in the course of our ride, this
+foreigner proved to be Madame Duval--the grandmother of your Evelina!
+
+When we stopped at her lodgings she desired me to accompany her into the
+house, and said she could easily procure a room for me to sleep in.
+
+I promised to wait upon her at what time she pleased the next day.
+
+What an unfortunate adventure! I could not close my eyes the whole
+night.
+
+Mrs. Mirvan was so kind as to accompany me to Madame Duval's house this
+morning. She frowned most terribly on Mrs. Mirvan, but received me with
+as much tenderness as I believe she was capable of feeling. She avowed
+that her intention in visiting England was to make me return with her to
+France. As it would have been indecent for me to have quitted town the
+very instant I discovered that Madame Duval was in it, we have
+determined to remain in London for some days. But I, my dear and most
+honoured sir, shall have no happiness till I am again with you.
+
+MR. VILLARS TO EVELINA
+
+Secure of my protection, let no apprehensions of Madame Duval disturb
+your peace. Conduct yourself towards her with all respect and deference
+due to so near a relation, remembering always that the failure of duty
+on her part can by no means justify any neglect on yours. Make known to
+her the independence I assure you of, and when she fixes the time for
+her leaving England, trust to me the task of refusing your attending
+her.
+
+EVELINA TO MR. VILLARS
+
+I have spent the day in a manner the most uncomfortable imaginable.
+Madame Duval, on my visiting her, insisted upon my staying with her all
+day, as she intended to introduce me to some of my own relations. These
+consisted of a Mr. Brangton, who is her nephew, and three of his
+children--a son and two daughters--and I am not ambitious of being known
+to more of my relations if they have any resemblance to those whose
+acquaintance I have already made.
+
+I had finished my letter to you when a violent rapping at the door made
+me run downstairs, and who should I see in the drawing-room but Lord
+Orville!
+
+He inquired of our health with a degree of concern that rather surprised
+me, and when I told him our time for London is almost expired, he asked,
+"And does Miss Anville feel no concern at the idea of the many mourners
+her absence will occasion?"
+
+"Oh, my lord, I'm sure you don't think"--I stopped there, for I hardly
+knew what I was going to say. My foolish embarrassment, I suppose, was
+the cause of what followed; for he came and took my hand, saying, "I do
+think that whoever has once seen Miss Anville must receive an impression
+never to be forgotten."
+
+This compliment--from Lord Orville--so surprised me that I could not
+speak, but stood silent and looking down, till recollecting my situation
+I withdrew my hand, and told him I would see if Mrs. Mirvan was in.
+
+I have since been extremely angry with myself for neglecting so
+excellent an opportunity of apologising for my behaviour at the ball.
+
+Was it not very odd that he should make me such a compliment?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Mrs. Mirvan secured places last night for the play at Drury Lane Theatre
+in the front row of a side box. Sir Clement Willoughby, whose
+conversation with Lord Orville respecting me on the night of the ball
+Miss Mirvan overheard, was at the door of the theatre, and handed us
+from the carriage. We had not been seated five minutes before Lord
+Orville, whom we saw in the stage-box, came to us; and he honoured us
+with his company all the evening. To-night we go to the opera, where I
+expect very great pleasure. We shall have the same party as at the play,
+for Lord Orville said he should be there, and would look for us.
+
+
+_IV.--A Compromising Situation_
+
+
+EVELINA TO MR. VILLARS
+
+I could write a volume of the adventures of yesterday.
+
+While Miss Mirvan and I were dressing for the opera, what was our
+surprise to see our chamber-door flung open and the two Miss Brangtons
+enter the room! They advanced to me with great familiarity, saying, "How
+do you do, cousin? So we've caught you at the glass! Well, we're
+determined to tell our brother of that!" Miss Mirvan, who had never
+before seen them, could not at first imagine who they were, till the
+elder said: "We've come to take you to the opera, miss. Papa and my
+brother are below, and we are to call for your grandmother as we go
+along."
+
+I told them I was pre-engaged, and endeavoured to apologise. But they
+hastened away, saying, "Well, her grandmamma will be in a fine passion,
+that's one good thing!"
+
+And indeed, shortly afterwards, Madame Duval arrived, her face the
+colour of scarlet, and her eyes sparkling with fury, and behaved so
+violently that to appease her I consented, by Mrs. Mirvan's advice, to
+go with madame's party.
+
+At the opera I was able, from the upper gallery, to distinguish the
+happy party I had left, with Lord Orville seated next to Mrs. Mirvan.
+During the last scene I perceived, standing near the gallery door, Sir
+Clement Willoughby. I was extremely vexed, and would have given the
+world to have avoided being seen by him in company with a family so low
+bred and vulgar.
+
+As soon as he was within two seats of us he spoke to me. "I am very
+happy, Miss Anville, to have found you, for the ladies below have each a
+humble attendant, and therefore I am come to offer my services here."
+
+"Why, then," cried I, "I will join them." So I turned to Madame Duval,
+and said, "As our party is so large, madame, if you give me leave I will
+go down to Mrs. Mirvan that I may not crowd you in the coach."
+
+And then, without waiting for an answer, I suffered Sir Clement to hand
+me out of the gallery.
+
+We could not, however, find Mrs. Mirvan in the confusion, and Sir
+Clement said, "You can have no objection to permitting me to see you
+safe home?"
+
+While he was speaking, I saw Lord Orville, who advanced instantly
+towards me, and with an air and voice of surprise, said, "Do I see Miss
+Anville?"
+
+I was inexpressibly distressed to suffer Lord Orville to think me
+satisfied with the single protection of Sir Clement Willoughby, and
+could not help exclaiming, "Good heaven, what can I do?"
+
+"Why, my dear madam!" cried Sir Clement, "should you be thus uneasy? You
+will reach Queen Ann Street almost as soon as Mrs. Mirvan, and I am sure
+you cannot doubt being as safe."
+
+Just then the servant came and told him the carriage was ready, and he
+handed me into it, while Lord Orville, with a bow and a half-smile,
+wished me good-night.
+
+When I reached home Miss Mirvan ran out to meet me, and who should I see
+behind her but--Lord Orville, who, with great politeness, congratulated
+me that the troubles of the evening had so happily ended, and said he
+had found it impossible to return home before he inquired after my
+safety.
+
+I am under cruel apprehensions lest Lord Orville should suppose my being
+on the stairs with Sir Clement was a concerted scheme.
+
+
+_V.--A Growing Acquaintance_
+
+
+EVELINA TO MISS MIRVAN
+
+Berry Hill, Dorset.--When we arrived here, how did my heart throb with
+joy! And when, through the window, I beheld the dearest, the most
+venerable of men with uplifted hands, returning, as I doubt not, thanks
+for my safe arrival, I thought it would have burst my bosom! When I flew
+into the parlour he could scarce articulate the blessings with which his
+kind and benevolent heart overflowed.
+
+Everybody I see takes notice of my looking pale and ill, and all my good
+friends tease me about my gravity, and, indeed, dejection. Mrs. Selwyn,
+a lady of large fortune, who lives near, is going in a short time to
+Bristol, and has proposed to take me with her for the recovery of my
+health.
+
+EVELINA TO MR. VILLARS
+
+Bristol Hotwells.--Lord Orville is coming to Bristol with his sister,
+Lady Louisa Larpent. They are to be at the Honourable Mrs. Beaumont's,
+and it will be impossible to avoid seeing him, as Mrs. Selwyn is very
+well acquainted with Mrs. Beaumont.
+
+This morning I accompanied Mrs. Selwyn to Clifton Hill, where,
+beautifully situated, is the house of Mrs. Beaumont. As we entered the
+house I summoned all my resolution to my aid, determined rather to die
+than to give Lord Orville reason to attribute my weakness to a wrong
+cause. On his seeing me, he suddenly exclaimed, "Miss Anville!" and then
+he advanced and made his compliments to me with a countenance open,
+manly, and charming, a smile that indicated pleasure, and eyes that
+sparkled with delight. The very tone of his voice seemed flattering as
+he congratulated himself upon his good fortune in meeting with me.
+
+During our ride home Mrs. Selwyn asked me if my health would now permit
+me to give up my morning walks to the pump-room for the purpose of
+spending a week at Clifton; and as my health is now very well
+established, to-morrow, my dear sir, we are to be actually the guests of
+Mrs. Beaumont. I am not much delighted at this scheme, for greatly as I
+am flattered by the attention of Lord Orville, I cannot expect him to
+support it as long as a week.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+We were received by Mrs. Beaumont with great civility, and by Lord
+Orville with something more.
+
+The attention with which he honours me seems to result from a
+benevolence of heart that proves him as much a stranger to caprice as to
+pride. I am now not merely easy, but even gay in his presence; such is
+the effect of true politeness that it banishes all restraint and
+embarrassment.
+
+
+_VI.--A Happy Ending_
+
+
+EVELINA TO MR. VILLARS
+
+And now, my dearest sir, if the perturbation of my spirits will allow
+me, I will finish my last letter from Clifton Hill.
+
+This morning, when I went downstairs, Lord Orville was the only person
+in the parlour. I felt no small confusion at seeing him alone after
+having recently avoided him.
+
+As soon as the usual compliments were over, I would have left the room,
+but he stopped me.
+
+"I have for some time past most ardently desired an opportunity of
+speaking to you."
+
+I said nothing, so he went on.
+
+"I have been so unfortunate as to forfeit your friendship; your eye
+shuns mine, and you sedulously avoid my conversation."
+
+I was extremely disconcerted at this grave, but too just accusation, but
+I made no answer.
+
+"Tell me, I beseech you, what I have done, and how to deserve your
+pardon."
+
+"Oh, my lord!" I cried, "I have never dreamt of offence; if there is any
+pardon to be asked it is rather for me than for you to ask it."
+
+"You are all sweetness and condescension!" cried he; "but will you
+pardon a question essentially important to me? Had, or had not, Sir
+Clement Willoughby any share in causing your inquietude?"
+
+"No, my lord!" answered I, with firmness, "none in the world. He is the
+last man who would have any influence over my conduct."
+
+Just then Mrs. Beaumont opened the door, and in a few minutes we went in
+to breakfast. When she spoke of my journey a cloud overspread the
+countenance of Lord Orville, and on Mrs. Selwyn asking me to seek some
+books for her in the parlour, I was followed by Lord Orville. He shut
+the door, and approached me with a look of great anxiety.
+
+"You are going, then," he cried, taking my hand, "and you give me not
+the smallest hope of your return?"
+
+"Oh, my lord!" I said, "surely your lordship is not so cruel as to mock
+me!"
+
+"Mock you!" repeated he earnestly. "No, I revere you! You are dearer to
+me than language has the power of telling!"
+
+I cannot write the scene that followed, though every word is engraved on
+my heart; but his protestations, his expressions, were too flattering
+for repetition; nor would he suffer me to escape until he had drawn from
+me the most sacred secret of my heart!
+
+To be loved by Lord Orville, to be the honoured choice of his noble
+heart--my happiness seems too infinite to be borne.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I could not write yesterday, so violent was the agitation of my mind,
+but I will not now lose a moment till I have hastened to my best friend
+an account of the transactions of the day.
+
+Mrs. Selwyn and I went early in Mrs. Beaumont's chariot to see my
+father, Sir John Belmont What a moment for your Evelina when, taking my
+hand, she led me forward into his presence. An involuntary scream
+escaped me; covering my face with my hands, I sank on the floor.
+
+He had, however, seen me first, for in a voice scarce articulate he
+exclaimed, "My God! does Caroline Evelyn still live? Lift up thy head,
+if my sight has not blasted thee, thou image of my long-lost Caroline!"
+
+Affected beyond measure, I half arose and embraced his knees.
+
+"Yes, yes," cried he, looking earnestly in my face, "I see thou art her
+child! She lives, she is present to my view!"
+
+"Yes, sir," cried I, "it is your child if you will own her!"
+
+He knelt by my side, and folded me in his arms. "Own thee!" he repeated,
+"yes, my poor girl, and heaven knows with what bitter contrition!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+All is over, my dearest sir, and the fate of your Evelina is decided!
+This morning, with tearful joy, and trembling gratitude, she united
+herself for ever with the object of her dearest, eternal affection.
+
+I have time for no more; the chaise now waits which is to conduct me to
+dear Berry Hill and the arms of the best of men.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+WILLIAM CARLETON
+
+
+The Black Prophet
+
+      William Carleton, the Irish novelist, was born in Co. Tyrone
+     on February 20, 1794. His father was a small farmer, the
+     father of fourteen children, of whom William was the youngest.
+     After getting some education, first from a hedge schoolmaster,
+     and then from Dr. Keenan of Glasslough, Carleton set out for
+     Dublin and obtained a tutorship. In 1830 he collected a number
+     of sketches, and these were published under the title of
+     "Traits and Stories of the Irish Peasantry," and at once
+     enjoyed considerable popularity. In 1834 came "Tales of
+     Ireland," and from that time forward till his death Carleton
+     produced with great industry numerous short stories and
+     novels, though none of his work after 1848 is worthy of his
+     reputation. "The Black Prophet" was published in 1847, and
+     Carleton believed rightly that it was his best work. It was
+     written in a season of unparalleled scarcity and destitution,
+     and the pictures and scenes represented were those which he
+     himself witnessed in 1817 and 1822. Many of Carleton's novels
+     have been translated into French, German, and Italian, and
+     they will always stand for faithful and powerful pictures of
+     Irish life and character. Carleton died in Dublin on January
+     30, 1869.
+
+
+_I.--The Murders in the Glen_
+
+
+The cabin of Donnel M'Gowan, the Black Prophet, stood at the foot of a
+hill, near the mouth of a gloomy and desolate glen.
+
+In this glen, not far from the cabin, two murders had been committed
+twenty years before. The one was that of a carman, and the other a man
+named Sullivan; and it was supposed they had been robbed. Neither of the
+bodies had ever been found. Sullivan's hat and part of his coat had been
+found on the following day in a field near the cabin, and there was a
+pool of blood where his foot-marks were deeply imprinted. A man named
+Dalton had been taken up under circumstances of great suspicion for this
+latter murder, for Dalton was the last person seen in Sullivan's
+company, and both men had been drinking together in the market. A
+quarrel had ensued, blows had been exchanged, and Dalton had threatened
+him in very strong language.
+
+No conviction was possible because of the disappearance of the body, but
+Dalton had remained under suspicion, and the glen, with its dark and
+gloomy aspect, was said to be haunted by Sullivan's spirit, and to be
+accursed as the scene of crime and supernatural appearances.
+
+Within M'Gowan's cabin, which bore every mark of poverty and
+destitution, a young girl about twenty-one, of tall and slender figure,
+with hair black as the raven's wing, and eyes dark and brilliant,
+wrangled fiercely with an older woman, her stepmother. From words they
+passed to a fearful struggle of murderous passion.
+
+Presently, Sarah, the younger of the two, started to her feet, and fled
+out of the house to wash her hands and face at the river that flowed
+past. Then she returned, and spoke with frankness and good nature.
+
+"I'm sorry for what I did. Forgive me, mother! You know I'm a hasty
+divil--for a divil's limb I am, no doubt of it. Forgive me, I say! Do
+now; here, I'll get something to stop the blood!"
+
+She sprang at the moment, with the agility of a wild cat upon an old
+chest that stood in the corner of the hut. By stretching herself up to
+her full length, she succeeded in pulling down several old cobwebs that
+had been undisturbed for years, and while doing so, knocked down some
+metallic substance which fell on the floor.
+
+"Murdher alive, mother!" she exclaimed. "What is this? Hallo, a
+tobaccy-box! An' what's this on it? Let me see. Two letters--a 'P' and
+an 'M.' 'P.M.'--arrah, what can that be for? Well, divil may care. Let
+it lie on the shelf there. Here now, none of your cross looks. I say,
+put these cobwebs to your face, and they'll stop the bleedin'. And now
+good-night to you, an' let that be a warnin' to you not to raise your
+hand to me again."
+
+The girl went off to spend the night at a dance and a wake, and the
+stepmother having dressed her wound as well as she could, sat down by
+the fire and began to ruminate.
+
+Presently she took up the tobacco-box, and looking at it carefully,
+clasped her hands.
+
+"It's the same!" she exclaimed. "Oh, merciful God, it's thrue--it's
+thrue! I know it by the broken hinge an' the two letters! Saviour of
+life, how will this end, and what will I do? But, anyway, I must hide
+this, and put it out of his reach."
+
+She accordingly went out and thrust the box up under the thatch of the
+roof so that it was impossible to suspect that the roof had been
+disturbed.
+
+
+_II.--The Prophet Schemes_
+
+
+That same evening Donnel was overtaken on the road from Ballynafail, the
+market-town, by Jerry Sullivan, a struggling farmer, and they proceeded
+together to the latter's house.
+
+"This woful saison, along wid the low prices and the high rents, houlds
+out a black and terrible look for the counthry, God help us!" said
+Sullivan.
+
+"Ay," returned the Black Prophet, "if you only knew it. Isn't the
+Almighty, in His wrath, this moment proclaimin' it through the heavens
+and the airth? Look about you, and say what is it you see that doesn't
+foretell famine. Doesn't the dark, wet day, an' the rain, rain, rain
+foretell it? Doesn't the rottin' crops, the unhealthy air, an' the green
+damp foretell it? Doesn't the sky without a sun, the heavy clouds, an'
+the angry fire of the west foretell it? Isn't the airth a page of
+prophecy, an' the sky a page of prophecy, where every man may read of
+famine, pestilence, an' death?"
+
+"The time was," said Sullivan, "an' it's not long since, when I could
+give you a comfortable welcome as well as a willin' one; but now 'tis
+but poor and humble tratement I can give you. But if it was betther, you
+should just be as welcome to it, an' what more can you say?"
+
+"Well," replied the other, "what more can you say, indeed? I'm thankful
+to you, Jerry, an' I'll accept your kind offer."
+
+The night had set in when they reached the house, where the traces of
+poverty were as visible upon the inmates as upon the furniture.
+
+Sullivan was strangely excited--he had discovered a stolen interview
+outside between his eldest daughter and young Condy Dalton.
+
+Mave Sullivan--a young creature of nineteen, of rare natural beauty and
+angelic purity--turned deadly pale when her father spoke.
+
+"Bridget," Sullivan said, turning to his wife, "I tell you that I came
+upon that undutiful daughter of ours coortin' wid the son of the man
+that murdhered her uncle, my only brother--coortin' wid a fellow that
+Dan M'Gowan here knows will be hanged yet, for he's jist afther tellin'
+him so."
+
+"You're ravin', Jerry," exclaimed his wife. "You don't mean to tell me
+that she'd spake to, or make any freedoms whatsomever wid young Condy
+Dalton? Hut, no, Jerry; don't say that, at all events!"
+
+But Sullivan's indignation passed quickly to alarm and distress, for his
+daughter tottered, and would have fallen to the ground if Donnel had not
+caught her.
+
+"Save me from that man!" she shrieked at Donnel, clinging to her mother.
+"Don't let him near me! I can't tell why, but I am deadly afraid of
+him!"
+
+Her parents, already sorry for their harsh words, tried their utmost to
+console her.
+
+"Don't be alarmed, my purty creature," said the Black Prophet softly. "I
+see a great good fortune before you. I see a grand and handsome husband,
+and a fine house to live in. Grandeur and wealth is before her, for her
+beauty an' her goodness will bring it all about."
+
+When the family, after the father had offered up a few simple prayers,
+retired to rest, Sullivan took down his brother's old great coat, and
+placed it over M'Gowan, who was already in bed. But the latter
+immediately sat up and implored him to take it away.
+
+Next morning before departing, Donnel repeated to Mave Sullivan his
+prophecy of the happy and prosperous marriage.
+
+But Mave, who knew where her affection rested, found no comfort in these
+predictions, for the Daltons were pressed as hard by poverty as their
+neighbours.
+
+As for Donnel M'Gowan, cunning and unscrupulous, his plan was to secure
+Mave for young Dick o' the Grange, a small landowner, and a profligate.
+To do this he relied on the help of his daughter Sarah and was
+disappointed. For Sarah was to find Mave Sullivan her friend, and she
+renounced her father's scheme, so that no harm happened to the girl.
+
+
+_III.--The Shadow of Crime_
+
+
+With famine came typhus fever, and the state of the country was
+frightful beyond belief. Thousands were reduced to mendicancy, numbers
+perished on the very highways, and the road was literally black with
+funerals. Temporary sheds were erected near the roadsides, containing
+fever-stricken patients who had no other home.
+
+Under the ravening madness of famine, legal restraints and moral
+principles were forgotten, and famine riots broke out. For, studded over
+the country were a number of farmers with bursting granaries, who could
+afford to keep their provisions in large quantities until a year of
+scarcity and high prices arrived; and the people, exasperated beyond
+endurance, saw long lines of provision carts on their way to the
+neighbouring harbours for exportation.
+
+Such was the extraordinary fact!
+
+Day after day, vessels laden with Irish provisions, drawn from a
+population perishing with actual hunger, and with pestilence which it
+occasioned, were passing out of our ports, whilst other vessels came in
+freighted with our provisions sent back, through the charity of England,
+to our relief.
+
+Goaded by suffering, hordes of people turned out to intercept meal-carts
+and provision vehicles, and carts and cars were stopped on the highways,
+and the food which they carried openly taken away.
+
+Sarah M'Gowan herself went to the Daltons, where typhus and starvation
+were doing their worst, to render what service she could, and Mave
+Sullivan would have done the same but for the entreaties of her parents,
+who feared the terrible fever.
+
+The Black Prophet alone went on his way unmoved, scheming to accomplish
+his vile ends. It was not enough for him that Mave was to be abducted;
+he had also planned a robbery for the same night, and was further
+resolved to procure the conviction of old Condy Dalton for the almost
+forgotten murder of Sullivan in the glen.
+
+M'Gowan was driven to this last step by his own disturbed mind. The
+disappearance of the tobacco-box troubled him, for on seeking it under
+the thatch it was no longer there, and the discovery by his wife of a
+skeleton buried near their cabin caused him still greater uneasiness.
+Then Sarah had followed him one night, when he was walking in his sleep,
+to the secret grave of the murdered man, and though the Prophet did not
+say anything on that occasion to incriminate himself, he was vexed by
+the occurrence.
+
+So, on the information of Donnel M'Gowan, and a man called Roddy Duncan,
+who was deep in the Prophet's subtle villainies, the skeleton was dug
+up, and old Condy Dalton arrested.
+
+"It's the will of God!" replied the old man, when the police-officers
+entered his unhappy dwelling, and charged him with the murder of
+Bartholomew Sullivan. "It's God's will, an' I won't consale it any
+longer. Take me away. I'm guilty--I'm guilty!"
+
+Sarah was ministering to the Daltons at the very time when her father
+was informing against old Condy, and was present when the police took
+him away in custody. Shortly afterwards, when she had left the house,
+she was struck down by typhus.
+
+In a shed that simply consisted of a few sticks laid up against the side
+of a ditch, with the remnant of some loose straw for bedding, Mave
+Sullivan found the suffering girl, with no other pillow than a sod of
+earth.
+
+"Father of mercy!" thought Mave, "how will she live--how can she live
+here? An' is she to die in this miserable way in a Christian land?"
+
+Sarah lay groaning with pain, and then raving in delirium.
+
+"I won't break my promise, father, but I'll break my heart; an' I can't
+even give her warning. Ah, but it's treachery, an' I hate that. No, no;
+I'll have no hand in it--manage it your own way!"
+
+"Dear Sarah, don't you know me?" said Mave tenderly. "Look at me--I am
+Mave Sullivan, your friend that loves you."
+
+"Who is that?" Sarah asked, starting a little. "I never had anyone to
+take care o' me--nor a mother; many a time--often--often--the whole
+world--some one to love me. Oh, a dhrink! Is there no one to give me a
+dhrink? I'm burning, I'm burning! Mave Sullivan, have pity on me--I
+heard some one name her--I'll die without you give me a dhrink!"
+
+Mave hastily fetched some water, and in the course of two or three days
+Sarah's situation, thanks to the attention of Mave and her neighbours,
+was changed for the better, and she was conveyed home to the Prophet's
+cabin on a litter--only to die in a few days.
+
+It was the knowledge of what she owed Mave that forced Sarah to
+frustrate her father's plot for Mave's ruin.
+
+The robbery was no more successful than the abduction, for Roddy Duncan
+withdrew from it, and Donnel M'Gowan learnt that the house to be
+plundered was well guarded.
+
+
+_IV.--An Amazing Witness_
+
+
+The court was crowded when Cornelius Dalton was put to the bar charged
+with the wilful murder of Bartholomew Sullivan, by striking him on the
+head with a walking stick, and when the old man stood up all eyes were
+turned on him. It was clear that there was an admission of guilt in his
+face, for instead of appearing erect and independent, he looked around
+with an expression of remorse and sorrow, and it was with difficulty
+that he was prevailed upon to plead "not guilty."
+
+The first witness called was Jeremiah Sullivan, who deposed that at one
+of the Christmas markets in 1798 he was present when an altercation took
+place between his late brother Bartle and the prisoner. They were both
+drinking, and their friends separated them. He never saw his brother
+alive afterwards. He then deposed to the finding of his brother's coat
+and hat, crushed and torn.
+
+The next witness was Roddy Duncan, who deposed that on the night in
+question he was passing on a car and saw a man drag something heavy,
+like a sack. He then called out was that Condy Dalton? And the reply
+was, "It is, unfortunately!" upon which he wished him good-night.
+
+Next came the Prophet. He said he was on his way through Glendhu, when
+he came to a lonely spot where he found the body of Bartholomew
+Sullivan, and beside it a grave dug two feet deep. He then caught a
+glimpse of the prisoner, Condy Dalton, among the bushes, with a spade in
+his hand. He shouted out and, getting no answer, was glad to get off
+safe.
+
+On the cross-examination, he said "the reason why he let the matter rest
+until now was that he did not wish to be the means of bringin' a
+fellow-creature to an untimely death. His conscience, however, always
+kept him uneasy, and many a time of late the murdhered man appeared to
+him, and threatened him for not disclosing what he knew."
+
+"You say the murdered man appeared to you. Which of them?"
+
+"Peter Magennis--what am I sayin'? I mean Bartle Sullivan."
+
+The counsel for the defence requested the judge and jury to make a note
+of Peter Magennis, and then asked the Prophet what kind of a man Bartle
+Sullivan was.
+
+"He was a very remarkable man in appearance; stout, with a long face,
+and a scar on his chin."
+
+"And you saw that man murdered?"
+
+"I seen him dead after havin' been murdhered."
+
+"Do you think, now, if he were to rise again from the grave that you
+would know him?"
+
+Then the counsel turned round, spoke to some person behind, and a
+stranger advanced and mounted a table confronting the Black Prophet.
+
+"Whether you seen me dead or buried is best known to yourself," said the
+stranger. "All I can say is that here I am, Bartle Sullivan, alive an'
+well."
+
+Hearing the name, crowds pressed forward, recognising Bartle Sullivan,
+and testifying their recognition by a general cheer.
+
+There were two persons present, however, Condy Dalton and the Prophet,
+on whom Sullivan's appearance produced very opposite effects.
+
+Old Dalton at first imagined himself in a dream, and it was only when
+Sullivan, promising to explain all, came over and shook hands with him,
+and asked his pardon, that the old man understood he was innocent.
+
+The Prophet looked with mortification rather than wonder at Sullivan;
+then a shadow settled on his countenance, and he muttered to himself, "I
+am doomed! Something drove me to this."
+
+The trial was quickly ended. Sullivan's brother and several jurors
+established his identity, and Condy Dalton was discharged.
+
+The judge then ordered the Prophet and Roddy Duncan to be taken into
+custody, and an indictment of perjury to be prepared at once. The graver
+charge of murder was, however, brought against M'Gowan, the murder of a
+carman named Peter Magennis, and the following day he found himself in
+the very dock where Dalton had stood.
+
+
+_V.--Fate: the Discoverer_
+
+
+The trial of Donnel M'Gowan brought several strange things to light. It
+was proved that the Prophet's real name was McIvor, that he had a wife
+living, and that this wife was a sister to the murdered carman, Peter
+Magennis. After the murder, McIvor fled to America with his daughter,
+and his wife lost sight of him. She had only returned to these parts
+recently, and she identified the skeleton of her brother because of a
+certain malformation of the foot.
+
+Then a pedlar, known in the neighbourhood as Toddy Mack, deposed that he
+had given Magennis a steel tobacco-box with the letters "P. M." punched
+on it.
+
+It was Roddy Duncan who had seen this tobacco-box put under the thatch,
+and he, knowing nothing of its history, had given it to Sarah M'Gowan,
+who equally ignorant, had given it to a young man who called himself
+Hanlon, but was in fact the son of Magennis.
+
+On the night of the murder the unhappy woman, whom Sarah called
+stepmother, and who lived with the Black Prophet, saw the tobacco-box in
+M'Gowan's hands, and it contained a roll of bank-notes. When she asked
+how he came by it, he gave her a note, and said, "There's all the
+explanation you can want."
+
+The chain of circumstantial evidence was sufficient to establish the
+Prophet's guilt, and the judge passed the capital sentence.
+
+The Prophet heard his doom without flinching, and only turned to the
+gaoler to say, "Now that everything is over, the sooner I get to my cell
+the betther. I have despised the world too long to care a single curse
+what it says or thinks about me."
+
+Sarah, who heard of her father's fate while she lay dying, tended by
+Mave Sullivan and her newly-discovered mother, sent the condemned man a
+last message. "Say that his daughter, if she was able, would be with him
+through shame, an' disgrace, an' death; that she'd scorn the world for
+him; an' that because he said once in his life that he loved her, she'd
+forgive him all a thousand times, an' would lay down her life for him."
+
+The acquittal of old Condy Dalton, who for years had tortured himself
+with remorse, believing he had killed Sullivan, and never understanding
+the disappearance of the body, and the resurrection of honest Bartle
+Sullivan, filled all the countryside with delight.
+
+Thanks to the money of his friend, Toddy Mack, Dalton was once more
+re-established in a farm that he had been compelled to relinquish, and
+when sickness and the severity of winter passed away Mave and young
+Condy Dalton were happily married.
+
+Roddy Duncan was transported for perjury. Bartle Sullivan, on the first
+social evening that the two families, the Sullivans and the Daltons,
+spent together after the trial, cleared up the mystery of his
+disappearance.
+
+"I remimber fightin'," he said, "wid Condy on that night, and the
+devil's own battle it was. We went into a corner of the field near the
+Grey Stone to decide it. All at wanst I forgot what happened, till I
+found myself lyin' upon a car wid the McMahons that lived ten or twelve
+miles beyond the mountains. Well, I felt disgraced at bein' beaten by
+Con Dalton, and as I was fond of McMahon's sister, what 'ud you have us
+but off we went together to America, for, you see, she promised to marry
+me if I'd go. Well, she an' I married when we got to Boston, and Toddy
+here, who took to the life of a pedlar, came back with a good purse and
+lived wid us. At last I began to long for home, and so we all came
+together. An', thank God, we were all in time to clear the innocent, and
+punish the guilty; ay, an' reward the good, too, eh, Toddy?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+LEWIS CARROLL
+
+
+Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
+
+      The proper name of Lewis Carroll was Charles Lutwidge
+     Dodgson, and he was born at Daresbury, England, on January 27,
+     1832. Educated at Rugby and at Christchurch, Oxford, he
+     specialised in mathematical subjects. Elected a student of his
+     college, he became a mathematical lecturer in 1855, continuing
+     in that occupation until 1881. His fame rests on the
+     children's classic, "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland," issued
+     in 1865, which has been translated into many languages. No
+     modern fairy-tale has approached it in popularity. The charms
+     of the book are its unstrained humour and its childlike fancy,
+     held in check by the discretion of a particularly clear and
+     analytical mind. Though it seems strange that an authority on
+     Euclid and logic should have been the inventor of so diverting
+     and irresponsible a tale, if we examine his story critically
+     we shall see that only a logical mind could have derived so
+     much genuine humour from a deliberate attack on reason, in
+     which a considerable element of fun arises from efforts to
+     reconcile the irreconcilable. The book has probably been read
+     as much by grown-ups as by young people, and no work of humour
+     is more heartily to be commended as a banisher of care. The
+     original illustrations by Sir John Tenniel are almost as
+     famous as the book itself.
+
+
+_I.--What Happened Down the Rabbit-Hole_
+
+
+Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the
+bank, and of having nothing to do; once or twice she had peeped into the
+book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in
+it, "and what is the use of a book," thought Alice, "without pictures or
+conversations?"
+
+So she was considering in her own mind (as well as she could, for the
+hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid) whether the pleasure of
+making a daisy-chain would be worth the trouble of getting up and
+picking the daisies, when suddenly a White Rabbit with pink eyes ran
+close by her.
+
+There was nothing so _very_ remarkable in that; nor did Alice think it
+so very much out of the way to hear the Rabbit say to himself: "Oh,
+dear! Oh, dear! I shall be too late!" But when the Rabbit actually _took
+a watch out of his waistcoat pocket_, and looked at it, and then hurried
+on, Alice started to her feet, for it flashed across her mind that she
+had never before seen a rabbit with either a waistcoat pocket or a watch
+to take out of it, and, burning with curiosity, she ran across the field
+after him, and was just in time to see him pop down a large rabbit-hole
+under the hedge.
+
+In another moment down went Alice after him, never once considering how
+in the world she was to get out again.
+
+The rabbit-hole went straight on like a tunnel for some way, and then
+dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Alice had not a moment to think
+about stopping herself before she found herself falling down what seemed
+to be a very deep well.
+
+Either the well was very deep or she fell very slowly, for she had
+plenty of time as she went down to look about her, and to wonder what
+was going to happen next.
+
+"Well," thought Alice to herself, "after such a fall as this, I shall
+think nothing of tumbling downstairs."
+
+Down, down, down. Would the fall _never_ come to an end? "I wonder if I
+shall fall right _through_ the earth? How funny it'll seem to come out
+among the people that walk with their heads downwards! The Antipathies,
+I think" (she was rather glad there was no one listening this time, as
+it didn't sound at all the right word).
+
+Down, down, down. Then suddenly, thump! thump! down she came upon a heap
+of sticks and dry leaves, and the fall was over.
+
+Alice was not a bit hurt, and she jumped up on to her feet in a moment.
+She looked up, but it was all dark overhead; before her was another long
+passage, and the White Rabbit was still in sight, hurrying down it.
+There was not a moment to be lost. Away went Alice like the wind, and
+was just in time to hear him say, as he turned a corner, "Oh, my ears
+and whiskers, how late it is getting!" She was close behind him when she
+turned the corner, but the Rabbit was no longer to be seen. She found
+herself in a long narrow hall, which was lit up by lamps hanging from
+the roof.
+
+In the hall she came upon a little three-legged table, all made of solid
+glass. There was nothing on it but a tiny golden key, and Alice's first
+idea was that this might belong to one of the doors of the hall; but,
+alas! either the locks were too large, or the key was too small, for, at
+any rate, it would not open any of them. However, on the second time
+round, she came upon a low curtain she had not noticed before, and
+behind it was a little door about fifteen inches high. She tried the
+little golden key in the lock, and, to her great delight, it fitted.
+
+Alice opened the door, and found that it led into a small passage, not
+much larger than a rat-hole. She knelt down and looked along the passage
+into the loveliest garden you ever saw. How she longed to get out of
+that dark hall, and wander about among those beds of bright flowers and
+those cool fountains, but she could not even get her head through the
+doorway.
+
+There seemed to be no use in waiting near the little door, so she went
+back to the table, half hoping she might find another key on it, or at
+any rate, a book of rules for shutting people up like telescopes. This
+time she found a little bottle on it ("which certainly was not here
+before," said Alice), and tied round the neck of the bottle was a paper
+label, with the words DRINK ME beautifully printed on it in large
+letters. Alice tasted it, and very soon finished it off.
+
+"What a curious feeling!" said Alice. "I must be shutting up like a
+telescope."
+
+And so it was, indeed; she was now only ten inches high, and her face
+brightened up at the thought that she was now the right size for going
+through the little door into that lovely garden.... But, alas for poor
+Alice, when she got to the door she found she had forgotten the little
+golden key, and when she went back to the table for it she found she
+could not possibly reach it.
+
+Soon her eye fell on a little glass box that was lying under the table.
+She opened it, and found in it a very small cake, on which the words EAT
+ME were beautifully marked in currants.
+
+She very soon finished off the cake.
+
+"Curiouser and curiouser!" cried Alice (she was so much surprised that
+for the moment she quite forgot how to speak good English). "Now I'm
+opening out like the largest telescope that ever was. Good-by feet!"
+(for when she looked down at her feet they seemed to be almost out of
+sight, they were getting so far off). "Oh, my poor little feet! I wonder
+who will put on your shoes and stockings for you now, dears?"
+
+Just at this moment her head struck against the roof of the hall; in
+fact, she was now more than nine feet high, and she at once took up the
+little golden key, and hurried off to the garden door.
+
+Poor Alice! It was as much as she could do, lying down on one side, to
+look through into the garden with one eye; but to get through was more
+hopeless than ever. She sat down and began to cry again, shedding
+gallons of tears, until there was a large pool all round her, about four
+inches deep, and reaching half down the hall.
+
+After a time she heard a little pattering of feet in the distance, and
+she hastily dried her eyes to see what was coming. It was the White
+Rabbit returning, splendidly dressed, with a pair of white kid gloves in
+one hand and a large fan in the other. He came trotting along in a great
+hurry, muttering to himself as he came, "Oh, the Duchess! the Duchess!
+Or, won't she be savage if I've kept her waiting!"
+
+Alice felt so desperate that she was ready to ask help of anyone; so,
+when the Rabbit came near her, she began, in a timid voice: "If you
+please, sir----"
+
+The Rabbit started violently, dropped the gloves and the fan, and
+scurried away into the darkness as hard as he could go.
+
+Alice took up the fan and gloves, and, as the hall was very hot, she
+kept fanning herself all the time she went on talking.
+
+"Dear, dear! How queer everything is to-day! How puzzling it all is!
+I'll try if I know all the things I used to know. Let me see: four times
+five is twelve, and four times six is thirteen, and four times seven
+is--oh, dear, I shall never get to twenty at that rate!" But presently
+on looking down at her hands, she was surprised to see that she had put
+on one of the rabbit's little white kid gloves while she was talking.
+
+"How _can_ I have done that?" she thought. "I must be growing small
+again."
+
+She got up and went to the table to measure herself by it, and found
+that, as nearly as she could guess, she was now about two feet high, and
+was going on shrinking rapidly. She soon found out that the cause of
+this was the fan she was holding, and she dropped it hastily, just in
+time to save herself from shrinking away altogether. Now she hastened to
+the little door, but alas, it was shut again. "I declare it's too bad,
+that it is!" she said aloud, and just as she spoke her foot slipped, and
+in another moment, splash! she was up to her chin in salt water. It was
+the pool of tears she had wept when she was nine feet high!
+
+
+_II.--The Pool of Tears and the Animals' Party_
+
+
+Just then she heard something splashing about in the pool a little way
+off, and she swam nearer to make out what it was. At first she thought
+it must be a walrus or hippopotamus, but then she remembered how small
+she was now, and she soon made out that it was only a mouse that had
+slipped in like herself.
+
+"Would it be of any use, now," thought Alice, "to speak to this mouse?
+Everything is so out-of-the-way down here that I should think very
+likely it can talk; at any rate, there's no harm in trying." So she
+began, "O Mouse, do you know the way out of this pool? I am very tired
+of swimming about here. O Mouse." The Mouse looked at her rather
+inquisitively, and seemed to her to wink with one of its little eyes,
+but it said nothing.
+
+"Perhaps it doesn't understand English," thought Alice; "I daresay it's
+a French mouse, come over with William the Conqueror." So she began
+again, "_ou est ma chatte?_" which was the first sentence in her French
+lesson book. The Mouse gave a sudden leap out of the water, and seemed
+to quiver all over with fright. "Oh, I beg your pardon!" cried Alice
+hastily, afraid that she had hurt the poor animal's feeling. "I quite
+forgot you don't like cats."
+
+"Not like cats!" cried the Mouse, in a shrill, passionate voice. "Would
+_you_ like cats if you were me?" The Mouse was swimming away from her as
+hard as it could go. So she called softly after it.
+
+"Mouse dear! Do come back again, and we won't talk about cats, or dogs
+either, if you don't like them!" When the Mouse heard this, it turned
+round and swam slowly back to her; its face was quite pale (with
+passion, Alice thought), and it said in a low, trembling voice, "Let us
+get to the shore, and I'll tell you my history, and you'll understand
+why it is I hate cats and dogs."
+
+It was high time to go, for the pool was getting quite crowded with the
+birds and animals that had fallen into it; there were a duck and a dodo,
+a lory and an eaglet, and other curious creatures. Alice led the way,
+and the whole party swam to the shore.
+
+A very queer-looking party of dripping birds and animals now gathered on
+the bank of the Pool of Tears; but they were not so queer as their talk.
+First the Mouse, who was quite a person of authority among them, tried
+to dry them by telling them frightfully dry stories from history. But
+Alice confessed she was as wet as ever after she had listened to the
+bits of English history; so the Dodo proposed a Caucus race. They all
+started off when they liked, and stopped when they liked. The Dodo said
+everybody had won, and Alice had to give the prizes. Luckily she had
+some sweets, which were not wet, and there was just one for each of
+them, but none for herself. The party were anxious she, too, should have
+a prize, and as she happened to have a thimble, the Dodo commanded her
+to hand it to him, and then, with great ceremony, the Dodo presented it
+to her, saying, "We beg your acceptance of this elegant thimble," and
+they all cheered.
+
+Of course, Alice thought this all very absurd; but they were dry now,
+and began eating their sweets. Then the Mouse began to tell Alice its
+history, and to explain why it hated C and D--for it was afraid to say
+cats and dogs. But she soon offended the Mouse, first by mistaking its
+"long and sad tale" for a "long tail," and next by thinking it meant
+"knot" when it said "not," so that it went off in a huff. Then when she
+mentioned Dinah to the others, and told them that was the name of her
+cat, the birds got uneasy, and one by one the whole party gradually went
+off and left her all alone. Just when she was beginning to cry, she
+heard a pattering of little feet, and half thought it might be the Mouse
+coming back to finish its story.
+
+It was the White Rabbit, trotting slowly back again, and looking
+anxiously about as he went, as if he had lost something and she heard
+him muttering to himself, "The Duchess! The Duchess! Oh, my dear paws!
+Oh, my fur and whiskers! She'll get me executed, as sure as ferrets are
+ferrets! Where _can_ I have dropped them, I wonder?"
+
+Very soon the Rabbit noticed Alice, and called out to her in an angry
+tone, "Why, Mary Ann, what _are_ you doing out here? Run home this
+moment, and fetch me a pair of gloves and a fan. Quick, now!"
+
+"He took me for his housemaid," she said to herself as she ran. "How
+surprised he'll be when he finds out who I am! But I'd better take him
+his fan and gloves--that is, if I can find them." As she said this, she
+came upon a neat little house, on the door of which was a bright brass
+plate with the name W. RABBIT engraved upon it. Inside the house she had
+a strange adventure, for she tried what the result of drinking from a
+bottle she found in the room would be, and grew so large that the house
+could hardly hold her. The White Rabbit and some of his friends,
+including Bill, the Lizard, threw a lot of little pebbles through the
+window, and these turned into tiny cakes. So Alice ate some and was
+delighted to find that she began shrinking directly. As soon as she was
+small enough to get through the door, she ran out of the house, and
+found quite a crowd of little animals and birds waiting outside. The
+poor Lizard, Bill, was in the middle, being held up by two guinea-pigs,
+who were giving it something out of a bottle. They all made a rush at
+Alice the moment she appeared but she ran off as hard as she could, and
+soon found herself safe in a thick wood.
+
+
+_III.--The Adventures in the Wood_
+
+
+Once in the wood, she was anxious to get back to her right size again,
+and then to get into that lovely garden. But how? Peeping over a
+mushroom, she beheld a large blue caterpillar sitting on the top with
+its arms folded, quietly smoking a long hookah, and taking not the
+smallest notice of her or of anything else. At length, in a sleepy sort
+of way, it began talking to her, and she told it what she wanted so
+much--to grow to her right size again.
+
+"I should like to be a _little_ longer," she said. "Three inches is such
+a wretched height to be."
+
+"It is a very good height indeed," said the Caterpillar angrily, rearing
+itself upright as it spoke (it was exactly three inches high).
+
+"But I'm not used to it," pleaded poor Alice in a piteous tone. And she
+thought to herself, "I wish the creatures wouldn't be so easily
+offended."
+
+"You'll get used to it in time," said the Caterpillar; and it put the
+hookah into its mouth and began smoking again.
+
+This time Alice waited patiently until it chose to speak again. In a
+minute or two the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its mouth and
+yawned once or twice, and shook itself. Then it got down off the
+mushroom, and crawled away into the grass, merely remarking as it went,
+"One side will make you grow taller, and the other side will make you
+grow shorter."
+
+"One side of _what_? The other side of what?" thought Alice to herself.
+
+"Of the mushroom," said the Caterpillar, just as if she had asked it
+aloud and in another moment it was out of sight.
+
+Alice remained looking thoughtfully at the mushroom for a minute, trying
+to make out which were the two sides of it and as it was perfectly
+round, she found this a very difficult question. However, at last she
+stretched her arms round it as far as they would go, and broke off a bit
+of the edge with each hand.
+
+"And now which is which?" she said to herself, and nibbled a little of
+the right-hand bit to try the effect. The next moment she felt a violent
+blow underneath her chin; it had struck her foot!
+
+She was a good deal frightened by this very sudden change, but she felt
+that there was no time to be lost, as she was shrinking rapidly, so she
+set to work at once to eat some of the other bit. Her chin was pressed
+so closely against her foot that there was hardly room to open her
+mouth; but she did it at last, and managed to swallow a morsel of the
+left-hand bit.
+
+The next minute she had grown so tall that her neck rose like a stalk
+out of a sea of green leaves, and these green leaves were the trees of
+the wood. But, by nibbling bits of mushroom, she at last succeeded in
+bringing herself down to her usual height. But, oh dear, in order to get
+into the first house she saw, she had to eat some more of the mushroom
+from her right hand and bring herself down to nine inches. Outside the
+house she saw the Fish-footmen and the Frog-footmen with invitations
+from the Queen to the Duchess, asking her to play croquet. The Duchess
+lived in the house, and a terrible noise was going on inside, and when
+the door was opened a plate came crashing out. But Alice got in at last,
+and found a strange state of things. The Duchess and her cook were
+quarrelling because there was too much pepper in the soup. The cook
+threw everything she could lay hands on at the Duchess, and nearly
+knocked the baby's nose off with a saucepan.
+
+The Duchess had the baby in her lap, and tossed it about ridiculously,
+finally throwing it in the most heartless way to Alice. She took it out
+of doors, and behold, it turned into a little pig, jumped out of her
+arms, and ran away into the wood.
+
+"If it had grown up," she said, "it would have made a dreadfully ugly
+child; but it makes rather a handsome pig, I think."
+
+She was a little startled now by seeing the Cheshire Cat--which she had
+first seen in the house of the Duchess--sitting on a bough of a tree.
+The Cat only grinned when it saw Alice. It looked good-natured, she
+thought; still it had _very_ long claws and a great many teeth, so she
+felt that it ought to be treated with respect.
+
+"Cheshire Puss," she said, "what sort of people live about here?"
+
+"In _that_ direction," the Cat said, waving its right paw round, "lives
+a Hatter; and in _that_ direction"--waving the other paw--"lives a March
+Hare. Visit either you like; they're both mad."
+
+She had not gone very far before she came in sight of the house of the
+March Hare. She thought it must be the right house, because the chimneys
+were shaped like ears and the roof was thatched with fur. It was so
+large a house that she did not like to go nearer till she had nibbled
+some more of the left-hand bit of mushroom, and raised herself to about
+two feet high; even then she walked up towards it rather timidly, saying
+to herself, "Suppose it should be raving mad after all. I almost wish
+I'd gone to see the Hatter instead."
+
+
+_IV.--Alice at the Mad Tea Party_
+
+
+There was a table set out under a tree in front of the house, and the
+March Hare and the Hatter were having tea at it; a Dormouse was sitting
+between them fast asleep, and the other two were using it as a cushion,
+resting their elbows on it, and talking over its head.
+
+The table was a large one, but the three were all crowded together at
+one corner.
+
+"No room! No room!" they cried out when they saw Alice coming.
+
+"There's _plenty_ of room!" said Alice indignantly. And she sat down in
+a large armchair at one end of the table.
+
+"What day of the month is it?" asked the Hatter, turning to Alice.
+
+He had taken his watch out of his pocket and was looking at it uneasily,
+shaking it every now and then, and holding it to his ear.
+
+Alice considered a little, and said, "The fourth."
+
+"Two days wrong," sighed the Hatter. "I told you butter wouldn't suit
+the works," he added, looking angrily at the March Hare.
+
+"It was the _best_ butter," the March Hare meekly replied.
+
+"But some crumbs must have got in as well," the Hatter grumbled. "You
+shouldn't have put it in with the bread-knife."
+
+The March Hare took the watch and looked at it gloomily, then he dipped
+it into his cup of tea, and looked at it again, but he could think of
+nothing better to say than "It was the _best_ butter, you know."
+
+"It's always tea-time with us here," explained the Hatter, "and we've no
+time to wash the things between whiles."
+
+"Then you keep moving round, I suppose?" said Alice.
+
+"Exactly so," said the Hatter; "as the things get used up."
+
+"But when you come to the beginning again?" Alice ventured to ask.
+
+"Suppose we change the subject," the March Hare interrupted, yawning. "I
+vote the young lady tells us a story."
+
+"I'm afraid I don't know one," said Alice, rather alarmed at the
+proposal.
+
+"Then the Dormouse shall!" they both cried. "Wake up the Dormouse!" And
+they pinched it on both sides at once.
+
+The Dormouse slowly opened its eyes. "I wasn't asleep," it said, in a
+hoarse, feeble voice. "I heard every word you fellows were saying."
+
+"Tell us a story," said the March Hare.
+
+"Yes, please do!" pleaded Alice.
+
+"And be quick about it," added the Hatter, "or you'll be asleep again
+before it's done."
+
+"Once upon a time there were three little sisters," the Dormouse began
+in a great hurry, "and their names were Elsie, Lacie, and Tillie and
+they lived at the bottom of a well----"
+
+"What did they live on?" said Alice, who always took a great interest in
+questions of eating and drinking.
+
+"They lived on treacle," said the Dormouse, after thinking a minute or
+two.
+
+"They couldn't have done that, you know," Alice gently remarked, "they'd
+have been ill."
+
+"So they were _very_ ill."
+
+Alice helped herself to some tea and bread and butter, and then turned
+to the Dormouse and repeated her question, "Why did they live at the
+bottom of the well?"
+
+The Dormouse again took a minute or two to think about it, and then
+said, "It was a treacle-well."
+
+"There's no such thing," Alice was beginning very angrily, but the
+Hatter and the March Hare went "Sh! sh!"
+
+"I want a clean cup," interrupted the Hatter. "Let's all move one place
+on." He moved on as he spoke, and the Dormouse followed him; the March
+Hare moved into the Dormouse's place, and Alice rather unwillingly took
+the place of the March Hare.
+
+"They were learning to draw," the Dormouse went on, yawning and rubbing
+its eyes, for it was getting very sleepy, "and they drew all manner of
+things--everything that begins with an M----"
+
+"Why with an M?" said Alice.
+
+"Why not?" said the March Hare.
+
+The Dormouse had closed its eyes by this time, and was going off into a
+doze; but, on being pinched by the Hatter, it woke up again with a
+little shriek, and went on, "----that begins with an M, such as
+mouse-traps, and the moon, and memory, and muchness--you know you say
+things are 'much of a muchness'--did you ever see such a thing as a
+drawing of a muchness?"
+
+"Really, now you ask me," said Alice, confused, "I don't think----"
+
+"Then you shouldn't talk," said the Hatter.
+
+This piece of rudeness was more than Alice could bear; she got up in
+disgust, and walked off. The Dormouse fell asleep instantly, and neither
+of the others took the least notice of her going, though she looked back
+once or twice, half hoping that they would call after her.
+
+The last time she saw them, they were trying to put the Dormouse into
+the teapot.
+
+
+_V.--The Mock Turtle's Story and the Lobster Quadrille_
+
+
+Alice got into the beautiful garden at last, but she had to nibble a bit
+of the mushroom again to bring herself down to twelve inches after she
+had got the golden key, so as to get through the little door. It was a
+lovely garden, and in it was the Queen's croquet-ground. The Queen of
+Hearts was very fond of ordering heads to be cut off. "Off with his
+head!" was her favourite phrase whenever anybody displeased her. She
+asked Alice to play croquet with her, but they had no rules; they had
+live flamingoes for mallets, and the soldiers had to stand on their
+hands and feet to form the hoops. It was extremely awkward, especially
+as the balls were hedgehogs, who sometimes rolled away without being
+hit. The Queen had a great quarrel with the Duchess, and wanted to have
+her head off.
+
+Alice found the state of affairs in the lovely garden not at all so
+beautiful as she had expected. But after the game of croquet, the Queen
+said to Alice, "Have you seen the Mock Turtle yet?"
+
+"No," said Alice. "I don't even know what a mock turtle is."
+
+"It's the thing mock turtle soup is made from," said the Queen.
+
+"I never saw one or heard of one."
+
+"Come on, then," said the Queen, "and he shall tell you his history."
+
+They very soon came upon a gryphon, lying fast asleep in the sun.
+
+"Up, lazy thing!" said the Queen; "and take this young lady to see the
+Mock Turtle, and to hear his history. I must go back and see after some
+executions I have ordered." And she walked off, leaving Alice alone with
+the Gryphon.
+
+Alice and the Gryphon had not gone far before they saw the Mock Turtle
+in the distance, sitting sad and lonely on a little ledge of rock, and,
+as they came nearer, Alice could hear him sighing as if his heart would
+break.
+
+So they went up to the Mock Turtle, who looked at them with large eyes
+full of tears.
+
+"This here young lady," said the Gryphon, "she wants for to know your
+history."
+
+"Once," said the Mock Turtle at last, with a deep sigh, "I was a real
+turtle. When we were little, we went to school in the sea. The master
+was an old turtle. We had the best of educations. Reeling and Writhing,
+of course, to begin with, and then the different branches of
+Arithmetic--Ambition, Distraction, Uglification, and Derision."
+
+"I never heard of 'Uglification,'" Alice ventured to say. "What is it?"
+
+The Gryphon lifted up both its paws in surprise.
+
+"Never heard of uglifying!" it exclaimed. "You know what to beautify is,
+I suppose?"
+
+"Yes," said Alice doubtfully, "it means to--make--anything--prettier."
+
+"Well, then," the Gryphon went on, "if you don't know what to uglify is,
+you _are_ a simpleton."
+
+Alice did not feel encouraged to ask any more questions about it, so she
+turned to the Mock Turtle, and said, "What else had you to learn?"
+
+"Well, there was Mystery," the Mock Turtle replied, counting out the
+subjects on his flappers--"Mystery, ancient and modern, with Seaography;
+then Drawling--the Drawing-master was an old conger-eel, that used to
+come once a week; _he_ taught us Drawling, Stretching, and Fainting in
+Coils. The Classical master taught Laughing and Grief, they used to
+say."
+
+"And how many hours a day did you do lessons?" said Alice, in a hurry to
+change the subject.
+
+"Ten hours the first day," said the Mock Turtle; "nine the next, and so
+on."
+
+"What a curious plan!" exclaimed Alice.
+
+"That's the reason they're called lessons," the Gryphon remarked;
+"because they lessen from day to day."
+
+This was quite a new idea to Alice, and she thought it over a little
+before she made her next remark. "Then the eleventh day must have been a
+holiday?"
+
+"Of course it was," said the Mock Turtle.
+
+"And how did you manage on the twelfth?" Alice went on eagerly.
+
+"That's enough about lessons," the Gryphon interrupted, in a very
+decided tone. "Tell her something about the games."
+
+The Mock Turtle sighed deeply, and drew the back of one flapper across
+his eyes.
+
+"Would you like to see a little of a Lobster Quadrille?" said he to
+Alice.
+
+"Very much indeed," said Alice.
+
+"Let's try the first figure," said the Mock Turtle to the Gryphon. "We
+can do without lobsters, you know. Which shall sing?"
+
+"Oh, _you_ sing!" said the Gryphon. "I've forgotten the words."
+
+So they began solemnly dancing round and round Alice, every now and then
+treading on her toes when they passed too close, and waving their
+fore-paws to mark the time while the Mock Turtle sang this, very slowly
+and sadly.
+
+    "Will you walk a little faster?" said a whiting to a snail,
+    "There's a porpoise close behind us, and he's treading on my tail.
+    See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance!
+    They are waiting on the shingle--will you come and join the dance?
+    Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the dance?
+    Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the dance?"
+
+"Now, come, let's hear some of _your_ adventures," said the Gryphon to
+Alice, after the dance.
+
+"I could tell you my adventures, beginning from this morning," said
+Alice, a little timidly, "but it's no use going back to yesterday,
+because I was a different person then."
+
+"Explain all that," said the Mock Turtle.
+
+"No, no; the adventure first!" said the Gryphon impatiently.
+"Explanations take such a dreadful time."
+
+So Alice began telling them her adventures from the time when she first
+saw the White Rabbit. After a while a cry of "The Trial's beginning!"
+was heard in the distance.
+
+"Come on!" cried the Gryphon. And, taking Alice by the hand, it hurried
+off.
+
+"What trial is it?" Alice panted, as she ran, but the Gryphon only
+answered, "Come on!" and ran the faster.
+
+
+_VI.--The Trial of the Knave of Hearts_
+
+
+The King and Queen of Hearts were seated on their throne when they
+arrived, with a great crowd assembled about them--all sorts of little
+birds and beasts, as well as the whole pack of cards. The Knave was
+standing before them, in chains, with a soldier on each side to guard
+him; and near the King was the White Rabbit, with a trumpet in one hand,
+and a scroll of parchment in the other. In the very middle of the court
+was a table, with a large dish of tarts upon it. They looked so good
+that it made Alice quite hungry to look at them. "I wish they'd get the
+trial done," she thought, "and hand round the refreshments." But there
+seemed to be no chance of this, so she began looking at everything about
+her to pass away the time.
+
+"Silence in the court!" cried the Rabbit.
+
+"Herald, read the accusation!" said the King.
+
+On this the White Rabbit blew three blasts on the trumpet, and then
+unrolled the parchment scroll, and read as follows.
+
+    The Queen of Hearts, she made some tarts,
+      All on a summer's day;
+    The Knave of Hearts, he stole those tarts,
+      And took them quite away.
+
+"Consider your verdict," the King said to the jury.
+
+"Not yet, not yet!" the Rabbit hastily interrupted. "There's a great
+deal to come before that!"
+
+"Call the first witness," said the King and the White Rabbit blew three
+blasts on the trumpet, and called out, "First witness!"
+
+The first witness was the Hatter. He came in with a teacup in one hand
+and a piece of bread-and-butter in the other. "I beg pardon, your
+Majesty," he began, "for bringing these in; but I hadn't quite finished
+my tea when I was sent for."
+
+"Take off your hat," the King said to the Hatter.
+
+"It isn't mine," said the Hatter.
+
+"_Stolen!_" the King exclaimed, turning to the jury, who instantly made
+a memorandum of the fact.
+
+"I keep them to sell," the Hatter added as an explanation; "I've none of
+my own. I'm a hatter."
+
+Here the Queen put on her spectacles, and began staring hard at the
+Hatter, who turned pale and fidgeted.
+
+"Give your evidence," said the King, "and don't be nervous, or I'll have
+you executed on the spot."
+
+This did not seem to encourage the witness at all; he kept shifting from
+one foot to the other, looking uneasily at the Queen, and in his
+confusion he bit a large piece out of his teacup instead of the
+bread-and-butter.
+
+Just at this moment Alice felt a very curious sensation, which puzzled
+her a good deal until she made out what it was. She was beginning to
+grow larger again, and she thought at first she would get up and leave
+the court; but on second thoughts she decided to remain where she was as
+long as there was room for her.
+
+"I'm a poor man, your Majesty," the Hatter began in a trembling voice,
+"and I hadn't but just begun my tea--not above a week or so--and what
+with the bread-and-butter getting so thin--and the twinkling of the
+tea----"
+
+"The twinkling of _what_?" said the King.
+
+"It _began_ with the tea," said the Hatter.
+
+"Of course, twinkling begins with a T!" said the King sharply. "Do you
+take me for a dunce? Go on!"
+
+"I'm a poor man," the Hatter went on, "and most things twinkled after
+that--only the March Hare said----"
+
+"I didn't!" the March Hare interrupted in a great hurry.
+
+"You did!" said the Hatter.
+
+"I deny it!" said the March Hare.
+
+"He denies it," said the King; "leave out that part. And if that's all
+you know about it, you may go," said the King; and the Hatter hurriedly
+left the court, without even waiting to put on his shoes. "--and just
+take his head off outside," the Queen added to one of the officers; but
+the Hatter was out of sight before the officer could get to the door.
+
+"Call the next witness!" said the King.
+
+Alice watched the White Rabbit as he fumbled over the list, feeling very
+curious to see what the next witness would be like, "for they haven't
+got much evidence _yet_," she said to herself. Imagine her surprise when
+the White Rabbit read out, at the top of his shrill little voice, the
+name "Alice!"
+
+"Here!" cried Alice, quite forgetting in the flurry of the moment how
+large she had grown in the last few minutes, and she jumped up in such a
+hurry that she tipped over the jury-box with the edge of her skirt,
+upsetting all the jurymen on to the heads of the crowd below, and there
+they lay sprawling about, reminding her very much of a globe of
+gold-fish she had accidentally upset the week before.
+
+"Oh, I _beg_ your pardon!" she exclaimed in a tone of great dismay, and
+began picking them up again as quickly as she could.
+
+As soon as the jury had a little recovered from the shock of being
+upset, and their slates and pencils had been found and handed back to
+them, they set to work very diligently to write out a history of the
+accident, all except the Lizard, who seemed too much overcome to do
+anything but sit with its mouth open, gazing up into the roof.
+
+"What do you know about this business?" the King said to Alice.
+
+"Nothing," said Alice.
+
+"Nothing _whatever_?" persisted the King.
+
+"Nothing whatever," said Alice.
+
+"That's very important," the King said, turning to the jury. They were
+just beginning to write this down on their slates, when the White Rabbit
+interrupted.
+
+"_Un_important, your Majesty means, of course," he said, in a very
+respectful tone, but frowning and making faces at him.
+
+"_Un_nimportant, of course, I meant," the King hastily said, and went on
+to himself in an undertone, "important--unimportant--unimportant--
+important----" as if he were trying which word sounded best.
+
+Presently the King, who had been for some time busily writing in his
+notebook, called out "Silence!" and he read out from his book, "Rule
+Forty-two. _All persons more than a mile high to leave the court_."
+
+Everybody looked at Alice.
+
+"_I'm_ not a mile high," said Alice.
+
+"You are," said the King.
+
+"Nearly two miles high," added the Queen.
+
+"Well, I shan't go, at any rate," said Alice. "Besides, that's not a
+regular rule; you invented it just now."
+
+"It's the oldest rule in the book," said the King.
+
+"Then it ought to be Number One," said Alice.
+
+The King turned pale, and shut his notebook hastily. "Consider your
+verdict," he said to the jury, in a low, trembling voice.
+
+"No, no!" said the Queen. "Sentence first--verdict afterwards."
+
+"Stuff and nonsense!" said Alice loudly. "The idea of having the
+sentence first!"
+
+"Hold your tongue!" said the Queen.
+
+"I won't!" said Alice.
+
+"Off with her head!" the Queen shouted at the top of her voice. Nobody
+moved.
+
+"Who cares for you?" said Alice (she had grown to her full size by this
+time). "You're nothing but a pack of cards!"
+
+At this the whole pack rose up into the air, and came flying down upon
+her; she gave a little scream, and tried to beat them off, and found
+herself lying on the bank, with her head in the lap of her sister, who
+was gently brushing away some dead leaves that had fluttered down from
+the trees on her face.
+
+"Wake up, Alice dear!" said her sister. "Why, what a long sleep you've
+had!"
+
+"Oh, I've had such a curious dream!" said Alice; and she told her
+sister, as well as she could remember them, all her strange adventures;
+and when she had finished, her sister kissed her, and said, "It _was_ a
+curious dream, dear, certainly. But now run in to your tea; it's getting
+late."
+
+So Alice got up and ran off, thinking while she ran, as well she might,
+what a wonderful dream it had been.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+MIGUEL CERVANTES
+
+
+Life and Adventures of Don Quixote
+
+      Miguel Cervantes, the son of poor but gentle parents, was
+     born nobody quite knows where in Spain, in the year 1547. His
+     favourite amusement when a boy was the performance of
+     strolling players. He learned grammar and the humanities under
+     Lopez de Hoyos at Madrid, but did not, it seems, proceed to
+     the university. He was an early writer of sonnets, and tried
+     his hand on a pastoral poem before he had grown moustaches.
+     His first acquaintance with the world was acting as
+     chamberlain in the house of a cardinal, but this life he
+     presently abandoned for the more stirring career of a soldier.
+     After incredible sufferings and adventures, the poor private
+     soldier returned wounded to his family and began his career as
+     author. He soon established a reputation, and was able to
+     marry a quite adorable good lady with dowry sufficient for his
+     needs. However, it was not until late in life that he wrote
+     his immortal work "Don Quixote," which saw the light in 1604
+     or 1605. During the remainder of his life he was bitterly
+     assailed by the envious and malignant, was seldom out of
+     monetary difficulties, and very often in great pain from the
+     disease which finally ended his career at Madrid on April 23,
+     1616--the same day which saw the close of Shakespeare's.
+
+
+_I.--The Knight-Errant of La Mancha_
+
+
+In a certain village of La Mancha, there lived one of those
+old-fashioned gentlemen who keep a lance in the rack, an ancient target,
+a lean horse, and a greyhound for coursing. His family consisted of a
+housekeeper turned forty, a niece not twenty, and a man who could saddle
+a horse, handle the pruning-hook, and also serve in the house. The
+master himself was nigh fifty years of age, lean-bodied and thin-faced,
+an early riser, and a great lover of hunting. His surname was Quixada,
+or Quesada.
+
+You must know now that when our gentleman had nothing to do--which was
+almost all the year round--he read books on knight-errantry, and with
+such delight that he almost left off his sports, and even sold acres of
+land to buy these books. He would dispute with the curate of the parish,
+and with the barber, as to the best knight in the world. At nights he
+read these romances until it was day; a-day he would read until it was
+night. Thus, by reading much and sleeping little, he lost the use of his
+reason. His brain was full of nothing but enchantments, quarrels,
+battles, challenges, wounds, amorous plaints, torments, and abundance of
+impossible follies.
+
+Having lost his wits, he stumbled on the oddest fancy that ever entered
+madman's brain--to turn knight-errant, mount his steed, and, armed
+_cap-à-pie_, ride through the world, redressing all manner of
+grievances, and exposing himself to every danger, that he might purchase
+everlasting honour and renown.
+
+The first thing he did was to secure a suit of armour that had belonged
+to his great-grandfather. Then he made himself a helmet, which his sword
+demolished at the first stroke. After repairing this mischief, he went
+to visit his horse, whose bones stuck out, but who appeared to his
+master a finer beast than Alexander's Bucephalus. After four days of
+thought, he decided to call his horse Rozinante, and when the title was
+decided upon, he spent eight days more before he arrived at Don Quixote
+as a name for himself.
+
+And now he perceived that nothing was wanting save only a lady, on whom
+he might bestow the empire of his heart. There lived close at hand a
+hard-working country lass, Aldonza Lorenzo, on whom sometimes he had
+cast an eye, but who was quite unmindful of the gentleman. Her he
+selected for his peerless lady, and dubbed her with the sweet-sounding
+name of Dulcinea del Toboso.
+
+
+_II.--An Adventure in a Courtyard_
+
+
+One morning, in the hottest part of July, with great secrecy, he armed
+himself, mounted Rozinante, and rode out of his backyard into the open
+fields. He was disturbed to think that the honour of knighthood had not
+yet been conferred upon him, but determined to rectify this matter at an
+early opportunity, and rode on soliloquising, after the manner of
+knight-errants, as happy as a man might be.
+
+Towards evening he arrived at a common inn, before whose door sat two
+wenches, the companions of some carriers bound for Seville. Don Quixote
+instantly imagined the inn to be a castle, and the wenches to be fair
+ladies taking the air; and as a swine-herd, getting his hogs together in
+a stubble-field near at hand, chanced at that moment to wind his horn,
+our gentleman imagined that this was a signal of his approach, and rode
+forward in the highest spirits.
+
+The extravagant language in which he addressed them astonished the
+wenches as much as his amazing appearance, and they first would have run
+from him, but finally stayed to laugh. Don Quixote rebuked them, whereat
+they laughed the more, and only the innkeeper's appearance prevented the
+knight's indignation from carrying him to extremities. This man was for
+peace, and welcomed the strange apparition to his inn with all civility,
+marvelling much to find himself addressed as Sir Castellan. So the
+knight sat down to supper with strange company, and discoursed of
+chivalry to the bewilderment of all present, treating the inn as a
+castle, the host as a noble gentleman, and the wenches as great ladies.
+
+He presently sought the innkeeper alone in the stable, and, kneeling,
+requested to be dubbed a knight, vowing that he would not move from that
+place till 'twas done. The host guessed the distraction of his visitor
+and complied, counselling Don Quixote--who had never read of such things
+in books of chivalry--to provide himself henceforth with money and clean
+shirts, and no longer to ride penniless. That night Don Quixote watched
+his arms by moonlight, laying them upon the horse-trough in the yard of
+the inn, while from a distance the innkeeper and his guests watched the
+gaunt man, now leaning on his lance, and now walking to and fro, with
+his target on his arm.
+
+It chanced that a carrier came to water his mules, and was about to
+remove the armour, when Don Quixote in a loud voice called him to
+desist. The man took no notice, and Don Quixote, calling upon his
+Dulcinea to assist him, lifted his lance and brought it down on the
+carrier's pate, laying him flat. A second carrier came, and was treated
+in like manner; but now all the company of them came, and with showers
+of stones made a terrible assault upon the knight. It was only the
+interference of the innkeeper that put an end to this battle, and by
+careful words he was able to appease Don Quixote's wrath and get him out
+of the inn.
+
+On his way the now happy knight found a farmer beating a boy, and
+bidding him desist, inquired the reason of this chastisement. The man,
+afraid of the strange armoured figure, told how this boy did his work
+badly in the field, and deserved his flogging; but the boy declared that
+the farmer owed him wages, and that whenever he asked for them his
+master flogged him. Sternly did the Don command the man to pay the lad's
+wages, and when the fellow promised to do so directly he got home, and
+the boy protested that he would surely never keep that promise, Don
+Quixote threatened the farmer, saying, "I am the valorous Don Quixote of
+La Mancha, righter of wrongs, revenger and redresser of grievances;
+remember what you have promised and sworn, as you will answer the
+contrary at your peril." Convinced that the man dare not disobey, he
+rode forward, and the farmer very soon continued his flogging of the
+boy.
+
+A company of merchants approaching caused Don Quixote to halt in the
+middle of the road, calling upon them to stand until they acknowledged
+Dulcinea del Toboso to be the peerless beauty of the world. This
+challenge was met with prevarication, which enraged Don Quixote, and
+clapping spurs to Rozinante he bore down upon the company with his lance
+couched.
+
+A stumble of the horse threw him, and as he lay on the ground, unable to
+move, one of the servants of the company came up and broke the lance
+across Don Quixote's ribs. It was not until a countryman came by that
+the Don was extricated, and then he had to ride back to his own village
+on the ass of the poor labourer, being so stiff and sore as quite
+incapable to mount Rozinante.
+
+The curate and the barber, seeing now what havoc romances of chivalry
+were making in the wits of this good gentleman, ran through his library
+while he lay wounded in bed, burned all his noxious works, and, securely
+locking the door, prepared the tale that enchantment had carried away
+the books and the very chamber itself.
+
+None of the entreaties of his niece, nor the remonstrances of his
+housekeeper, could stay Don Quixote at home, and he soon prepared for a
+second sally. He persuaded a good, honest country labourer, Sancho Panza
+by name, to enter his service as squire, promising him for reward the
+first island or empire which his lance should happen to conquer. Thus
+did things happen in books of chivalry, and he did not doubt that thus
+it would happen with him.
+
+
+_III.--The Immortal Partnership_
+
+
+So it came to pass that one night Don Quixote stole away from his home,
+and Sancho Panza from his wife and children, and with the master on
+Rozinante, the servant on his ass, Dapple, hastened away under cover of
+darkness in search of adventures. As they travelled, "I beseech your
+worship," quoth Sancho, "be sure you forget not your promise of the
+island; for, I dare swear, I shall make shift to govern it, let it be
+never so big." The knight, in a rhapsody, foreshadowed the day when
+Sancho might be made even a king, for in romances of chivalry there is
+no limit to the gifts made by valorous knights to their faithful
+squires. But Sancho shook his head. "Though it rain kingdoms on the face
+of the earth, not one of them would fit well upon the head of my wife;
+for, I must needs tell you, she is not worth two brass-jacks to make a
+queen of."
+
+As they were thus discoursing they espied some thirty windmills in the
+plain, which Don Quixote instantly took for giants. Nothing that Sancho
+said could dissuade him, and he must needs clap spurs to his horse and
+ride a-tilt at these great windmills, recommending himself to his lady
+Dulcinea. As he ran his lance into the sail of the first mill, the wind
+whirled about with such swiftness that the motion broke the lance into
+shivers, and hurled away both knight and horse along with it. When
+Sancho came upon his master the Don explained that some cursed
+necromancer had converted those giants into windmills to deprive him of
+the honour of victory.
+
+When the knight was recovered they continued their way, and their next
+adventure was to meet two monks on mules riding before a coach, with
+four or five men on horseback, wherein sat a lady going to Seville to
+meet her husband. Don Quixote rode forward, addressed the monks as
+"cursed implements of hell," and bade them instantly release the lovely
+princess in the coach. The monks flew for their lives as Don Quixote
+charged down upon them, but Sancho was thrown down by the servants, who
+tore his beard, trampled his stomach, beat and mauled him in every part
+of his body, and then left him sprawling without breath or motion.
+
+As for Don Quixote, he came off victor in this conflict, and only
+desisted from slaying his assailant on the plea of the lady in the
+coach, and on her promise that the conquered man should present himself
+before the peerless Dulcinea del Toboso. The recovered Sancho was
+surprised to find that his master had no island to bestow upon him after
+this incredible victory, wherein he himself had suffered so
+disastrously.
+
+In a fierce encounter with some Yanguesian carriers, Don Quixote was
+wounded almost to death, and he explained to Sancho that his defeat he
+owed to fighting with common people, bidding Sancho in future to fight
+himself against such common fellows.
+
+"Sir," said Sancho, "I am a peaceful man, a quiet fellow, do you see; I
+can make shift to forgive injuries as well as any man, as having a wife
+to maintain, and children to bring up. I freely forgive all mankind,
+high and low, lords and beggars, whatsoever wrongs they ever did or may
+do me, without the least exception."
+
+At the next inn they came upon Don Quixote, who was lying prone on
+Sancho's ass, groaning in pain, vowed that here was a worthy castle.
+Sancho swore 'twas an inn. Their dispute lasted till they reached the
+door, where Sancho marched straight in, without troubling himself any
+further in the matter. It was here that surprising adventures took
+place. The knight, Sancho, and a carrier were obliged to share one
+chamber. The maid of the inn, entering this apartment, was mistaken by
+Don Quixote for the princess of the castle, and taking her in his arms,
+he poured out a rhapsody to the virtues of Dulcinea del Toboso. The
+carrier resented this, and in a moment the place was in an uproar. Such
+a fight never took place before, and when it was over both the knight
+and the squire were as near dead as men can be. To right himself, Don
+Quixote concocted a balsam of which he had read, and drinking it off,
+presently was so grievously ill that he was like to cast up his heart and
+liver.
+
+Being got to bed again, he felt sure that he was now invulnerable, and
+he woke early next day, eager to sally forth. When the host asked for
+his reckoning, "How! Is this an inn?" quoth the Don. "Yes, and one of
+the best on the road." "How strangely have I been mistaken then! Upon my
+honour, I took it for a castle, and a considerable one, too." Saying
+which, he added that knights never yet paid for the honour they
+conferred in lying at any man's house, and so rode away. But poor Sancho
+Panza did not get off scot free, for they tossed him in a blanket in the
+backyard, where the Don could see the torture over the wall, but could
+by no means get to the rescue of his squire.
+
+When they were together again, the gallant Don comforted poor Sancho
+Panza with hopes of an island, and explained away all their sufferings
+on the grounds of necromancy. All that had gone awry with them was the
+work of some cursed enchanters.
+
+Their next adventure was begun by a cloud of dust on the horizon, which
+instantly made Don Quixote exclaim that a great battle was in progress.
+A nearer view revealed that the dust rose from a huge flock of sheep;
+but the knight's blood was up, and he rode forward as fast as poor
+Rozinante could carry him, and did frightful slaughter among the sheep,
+till the stones of the shepherd brought him to the earth. "Lord save
+us!" cried Sancho, as he assisted the Don to his feet. "Your worship has
+left on his lower side only two grinders, and on the upper not one."
+
+Later, they came upon a company of priests, with lighted tapers,
+carrying a corpse through the night. Don Quixote charged them, brought
+one of the company to the ground, and scattered the rest. Sancho Panza,
+whose stomach cried cupboard, filled his wallet with the rich provisions
+of the priests, boasting to the wounded man that his master was the
+redoubtable Don Quixote of La Mancha, otherwise called the Knight of the
+Rueful Countenance. When the adventure was over, Don Quixote questioned
+his squire on this name, and Sancho replied, "I have been staring upon
+you this pretty while by the light of that unlucky priest's torch, and
+may I never stir if ever I set eyes on a more dismal countenance in my
+born days."
+
+The next enterprise was with a barber, who carried his new brass basin
+on his head, so that it suggested to Don Quixote the famous helmet of
+Mambrino. Accordingly, he bore down upon the barber, put him to flight,
+and possessed himself of the basin, which he wore as a helmet. More
+serious was the following adventure, when Don Quixote released from the
+king's officers a gang of galley slaves, because they assured him that
+they travelled chained much against their will. So gallantly did the
+knight behave, that he conquered the officers and left them all but
+dead. Nevertheless, coming to an argument with the released convicts,
+whom he would have sent to his lady Dulcinea, he himself, and Sancho,
+too, were as mauled by the convicts as even those self-same officers.
+
+It now came to Don Quixote that he must perform a penance in the
+mountains, and sending Sancho with a letter to Dulcinea, he divested
+himself of much of his armour and underwear, and performed the maddest
+gambols and self-tortures ever witnessed under a blue sky.
+
+However, it chanced that Sancho Panza soon fell in with the curate and
+the barber of Don Quixote's village, and these good friends, by a
+cunning subterfuge, in which a beautiful young lady played a part, got
+Don Quixote safely home and into his own bed. The lady, affecting great
+distress, made Don Quixote vow to enter upon no adventure until he had
+righted a wrong done against herself; and one night, as they journeyed
+on this mission, a great cage was made and placed over Don Quixote as he
+slept, and thus, persuaded that necromancy was at work against, him, the
+valiant knight was borne back a prisoner to his home.
+
+
+_IV.--Sancho Governs His Island_
+
+
+Nothing short of a prison cell could keep Don Quixote from his sallies,
+and soon he was on the road again, accompanied by his faithful squire.
+To Sancho, who believed his master mad, and whose chief aim in life was
+filling his own stomach, these adventures of the Don had but one end,
+the governorship of the promised island. While he thought the knight
+mad, he believed in him; and while he was selfish, he loved his master,
+as the tale tells.
+
+It chanced that one day they came upon a frolicsome duke and duchess who
+had heard of their adventures, and who instantly set themselves to enjoy
+so rare a sport as that offered by the entertainment of the knight and
+his squire. The Don was invited to the duke's castle as a mighty hero,
+and there treated with all possible honour; but some tricks were played
+upon him which were certainly unworthy of the duke's courtesy.
+Nevertheless, this visit had the happiest culmination, since it was from
+the hands of the duke that Sancho at last received his governorship.
+Making pretence that a certain town on his estate, named Barataria, was
+an island, the duke dispatched Sancho to govern it; and after an
+affecting farewell with his master, who gave him the wisest possible
+advice on the subject of statecraft, Sancho set out in a glittering
+cavalcade to take up his governorship, with his beloved Dapple led
+behind.
+
+After a magnificent entry into the city, Sancho Panza was called upon to
+give judgment in certain teasing disputes, and this he did with such wit
+and such wholesome commonsense that he delighted all who heard him.
+Well-pleased with himself, he sat down in a grand hall to a solitary
+banquet, with a physician standing by his side. No sooner had Sancho
+tasted a dish than the physician touched it with a wand, and a page bore
+it swiftly away. At first Sancho was confounded by this interference
+with his appetite, but presently he grew bold and expostulated;
+whereupon the physician said that his mission was to overlook the
+governor's health, and to see that he ate nothing which was prejudicial
+to his physical well-being, since the happiness of the state depended
+upon the health of its governor. Sancho bore it for some time, but at
+length, starting up, he bade the physician avaunt, saying, "By the sun's
+light, I'll get me a good cudgel, and beginning with your carcase, will
+so belabour all the physic-mongers in the island, that I will not leave
+one of the tribe. Let me eat, or let them take their government again;
+for an office that will not afford a man his victuals is not worth two
+horse beans."
+
+At that moment there came a messenger from the duke, sweating, and with
+concern in his looks, who pulled a packet from his bosom and presented
+it to the governor. This message from the duke was to warn Sancho that a
+furious enemy intended to attack his island, and that he must be on his
+guard. "I have also the intelligence," wrote the duke, "from faithful
+spies, that there are four men got into the town in disguise to murder
+you, your abilities being regarded as a great obstacle to the enemy's
+design. Take heed how you admit strangers to speak with you, and eat
+nothing that is laid before you."
+
+Sancho set out to inspect his defences; but with every step he took he
+was confronted by some problem of government on which he was called upon
+to adjudicate. Harassed by these appeals, and half famished, our
+governor began to think that governorship was the sorriest trade on
+earth, and before a week was over he addressed to Don Quixote a letter,
+concluding, "Heaven preserve you from ill-minded enchanters, and send me
+safe and sound out of this government." One night he was awakened by the
+clanging of a great bell, and in came servants crying in affright that
+the enemy was approaching. Sancho rose, and was adjured by his subjects
+to lead them forth against their terrible foes. He asked for food, and
+declared that he knew nothing of arms. They rebuked him, and bringing
+him shields and a lance, proceeded to tie him up so tightly with shields
+behind and shields before that he could scarcely move. Then they bade
+him march, and lead on the army. "March!" quoth he. "These bonds stick
+so plaguey close that I cannot so much as bend my knees!" "For shame!"
+they answered. "It is fear and not armour that stiffens your legs." Thus
+rebuked, Sancho endeavoured to move, but fell flat on the earth like a
+great tortoise; while in the darkness the others made a clash with their
+swords and shields, and trampled upon the prone governor, who quite gave
+himself up for dead. But at break of day they raised a cry of "Victory!"
+and, lifting Sancho up, told him that their enemies were driven off.
+
+To this he said nothing save to ask for his old clothes. And when he was
+dressed he went down to Dapple's stall, and embraced his faithful ass
+with tears in his eyes. "Come hither, my friend and true companion,"
+quoth he; "happy were my days, my months, and years, when with thee I
+journeyed, and all my concern was to mend thy harness and find food for
+thy little stomach! But now that I have climbed to the towers of
+ambition, a thousand woes, a thousand torments, and four thousand
+tribulations have haunted my soul!" While he spoke he fitted on the
+pack-saddle, mounted his ass, bade farewell to the people, and departed
+in peace and great humility.
+
+
+_V.--The Death of Don Quixote_
+
+
+Meanwhile, Don Quixote had been fooled to the top of his bent in the
+duke's castle, and had endured tribulations from maids and men
+sufficient to deject the finest fortitude. He was now in the mood to
+forsake that great castle, and to embrace once more the life of the open
+road, and so with Sancho Panza he started out to take up the threads of
+his old life. After adventures so miraculous as to seem incredible, Don
+Quixote was laid low in an encounter with a friend of his disguised as a
+knight, and by this defeat was so broken and humiliated that he thought
+to turn shepherd and to spend the remainder of his days in a pastoral
+life. Sancho cheered him, and kept his heart as high as it would reach
+in his misery, and together they turned their faces towards home,
+leaving the future to the disposition of Providence.
+
+As they entered the village, two boys fighting in a field attracted the
+knight's attention, and he heard one of them cry, "Never fret yourself,
+you shall never see her while you have breath in your body!" The knight
+immediately applied these words to himself and Dulcinea, and nothing
+that Sancho could say had power to cheer his spirits. Moreover, the boys
+of the village, having seen them, raised a shout, and came laughing
+about them, saying, "Oh, law! here is Gaffer Sancho Panza's donkey as
+fine as a lady, and Don Quixote's beast thinner than ever!" The barber
+and the curate then came upon the scene and saw their old friend, and
+went with him to his house.
+
+Here Don Quixote faithfully described his discomfiture in the encounter
+with another knight, and declared his intention honourably to observe
+the conditions laid upon him of being confined to his village for a
+year.
+
+Melancholy increased with the poor knight, and he was seized with a
+violent fever. The physician and his friends conjectured that his
+sickness arose from regret for his defeat and disappointment of
+Dulcinea's disenchantment; they did all they could do to divert him, but
+in vain. One day he desired them to leave him, and for six hours he
+slept so profoundly that his niece thought he was dead. At the end of
+this time he wakened, and cried with a loud voice, "Blessed be Almighty
+God for this great benefit He has vouchsafed to me! His mercies are
+infinite; greater are they than the sins of men."
+
+These rational words surprised his niece, and she asked what he meant by
+them. He answered that by God's mercy his judgment had returned, free
+and clear. "The cloud of ignorance," said he, "is now removed, which
+continuous reading of those noxious books of knight-errantry had laid
+upon me." He said that his great grief now was the lateness with which
+enlightenment had come, leaving him so little time to prepare his soul
+for death.
+
+The others coming in, Don Quixote made his confession, and one went to
+fetch Sancho Panza. With tears in his eyes the squire sought his poor
+master's side, and when in the first clause of his will Don Quixote made
+mention of Sancho, saying afterwards, "Pardon me, my friend, that I
+brought upon you the shame of my madness," Sancho cried out, "Woe's me,
+your worship, do not die this bout; take my counsel, and live many a
+good year. For it is the maddest trick a man can play in his whole life
+to go out like the snuff of a candle, and die merely of the mulligrubs!"
+
+The others admonished him in like spirit, but Don Quixote answered and
+said, "Gently, sirs! do not look in last year's nests for the birds of
+this year. I was mad, but now I have my reason. I was Don Quixote of La
+Mancha; but to-day I am Alonso Quixano the Good. I hope that my
+repentance and my sincerity will restore me to the esteem that once you
+had for me. And now let Master Notary proceed." So he finished writing
+his will, and then fell into a swooning fit, and lay full length in his
+bed. But he lingered some days, and when he did give up the ghost, or to
+speak more plainly, when he died, it was amidst the tears and
+lamentations of his family, and after he had received the last
+sacrament, and had expressed, in pathetic way, his horror at the books
+of chivalry.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+ADALBERT VON CHAMISSO
+
+
+Peter Schlemihl, the Shadowless Man
+
+      Adalbert von Chamisso, a German lyric poet and scientist, was
+     born on January 30, 1781, at the Castle of Boncourt, in the
+     Champagne district of France. His parents emigrated in 1790,
+     and in 1796 he became page to the Queen of Prussia. Two years
+     afterwards he entered the army, which he left in 1806 to go to
+     France, returning to Berlin in the following year. In 1810 he
+     proceeded to France once more, and thence to Geneva, where he
+     began his study of natural history. In 1815 he went with Otto
+     von Kotzehue on a tour round the world, and on his return he
+     settled in Berlin, having obtained a post in the Botanical
+     Gardens. He wrote several important books on botany,
+     topography, and ethnology, but became even more famous through
+     his poems, ballads and romances. "Peter Schlemihl," which was
+     written in 1813 was published in the following year by
+     Chamisso's friend Fouqué, and achieved so great a success that
+     it was translated into most languages. Chamisso died in Berlin
+     on August 21, 1838.
+
+
+_I.--The Grey Man_
+
+
+Having safely landed after a fatiguing journey, I took my modest
+belongings to the nearest cheap inn, engaged a garret room, washed, put
+on my newly-turned black coat, and proceeded to find Mr. Thomas John's
+mansion. After a severe cross-examination on the part of the
+hall-porter, I had the honour of being shown into the park where Mr.
+John was entertaining a party. He graciously took my letter of
+introduction, continuing the while to talk to his guests. Then he broke
+the seal, still joining in the conversation, which turned upon wealth.
+"Anyone," he remarked, "who has not at least a million is, pardon the
+word, a rogue." "How true," I exclaimed; which pleased him, for he asked
+me to stay. Then, offering his arm to a fair lady, he led the party to
+the rose-clad hill. Everybody was very jolly; and I followed behind, so
+as not to make myself a nuisance.
+
+The beautiful Fanny, who seemed to be the queen of the day, in trying to
+pick a rose, had scratched her finger, which caused much commotion. She
+asked for some plaster, and a quiet, lean, tall, elderly man, dressed in
+grey, who walked by my side, put his hand in his coat pocket, pulled out
+a pocket-book, and, with a deep bow, handed the lady what she wanted.
+She took it without thanks, and we all continued to ascend the hill.
+
+Arrived at the top, Mr. John, espying a light spot on the horizon,
+called for a telescope. Before the servants had time to move, the grey
+man, bowing modestly, had put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a
+beautiful telescope, which passed from hand to hand without being
+returned to its owner. Nobody seemed surprised at the huge instrument
+issuing from a tiny pocket, and nobody took any more notice of the grey
+man than of myself.
+
+The ground was damp, and somebody suggested how fine it would be to
+spread some Turkey carpets. Scarcely had the wish been expressed, when
+the grey man again put his hand into his pocket, and, with a modest,
+humble gesture, pulled out a rich Turkey carpet, some twenty yards by
+ten, which was spread out by the servants, without anybody appearing to
+be surprised. I asked a young gentleman who the obliging man might be.
+He did not know.
+
+The sun began to get troublesome, and Fanny casually asked the grey man
+if he might happen to have a tent by him. He bowed deeply, and began to
+pull out of his pocket canvas, and bars, and ropes, and everything
+needed for the tent, which was promptly put up. Again nobody seemed
+surprised. I felt uncanny; especially when, at the next expressed
+desire, I saw him pull out of his pocket three fine large horses with
+saddles and trappings! You would not believe it if I did not tell you
+that I saw it with my own eyes.
+
+It was gruesome. I sneaked away, and had already reached the foot of the
+hill, when, to my horror, I noticed the grey man approaching. He took
+off his hat, bowed humbly, and addressed me.
+
+"Forgive my impertinence, sir, but during the short time I have had the
+happiness to be near you I have been able to look with indescribable
+admiration upon that beautiful shadow of yours, which you throw from you
+contemptuously, as it were. Pardon me, but would you feel inclined to
+sell it?"
+
+I thought he was mad. "Is your own shadow not enough for you? What a
+strange bargain!"
+
+"No price is too high for this invaluable shadow. I have many a precious
+thing in my pocket, which you may choose--a mandrake, the dish-cloth of
+Roland's page, Fortunati's purse----"
+
+"What! Fortunati's purse?"
+
+"Will you condescend to try it?" he said, handing me a money-bag of
+moderate size, from which I drew ten gold pieces, and another ten, and
+yet another ten.
+
+I extended my hand, and exclaimed, "A bargain! For this purse you can
+have my shadow." He seized my hand, knelt down, cleverly detached my
+shadow from the lawn, rolled it up, folded it, and put it in his pocket.
+Then he bowed and retired behind the rose-hedge, chuckling gently.
+
+I hurried back to my inn, after having tied the bag around my neck,
+under my waistcoat. As I went along the sunny street, I heard an old
+woman's voice, "Heigh, young man, you have lost your shadow!"
+
+"Thank you," I said, threw her a gold piece, and sought the shade of the
+trees. But I had to cross a broad street again, just as a group of boys
+were leaving school. They shouted at me, jeered, and threw mud at me. To
+keep them away I threw a handful of gold among them, and jumped into a
+carriage. Now I began to feel what I had sacrificed. What was to become
+of me?
+
+At the inn I sent for my things, and then made the driver take me to the
+best hotel, where I engaged the state rooms and locked myself up. And
+what, my dear Chamisso, do you think I did then? I pulled masses of gold
+out of the bag, covered the floor of the room with ducats, threw myself
+upon them, made them tinkle, rolled over them, buried my hands in them,
+until I was exhausted and fell to sleep. Next morning I had to cart all
+these coins into a cupboard, leaving only just a few handfuls. Then,
+with the help of the host, I engaged some servants, a certain Bendel, a
+good, faithful soul, being specially recommended to me as a valet. I
+spent the whole day with tailors, bootmakers, jewellers, merchants, and
+bought a heap of precious things, just to get rid of the heaps of gold.
+
+I never ventured out in daytime; and even at night when I happened to
+step out into the moonlight, I had to suffer untold anguish from the
+contemptuous sneers of men, the deep pity of women, the shuddering fear
+of fair maidens. Then I sent Bendel to search for the grey man, giving
+him every possible indication. He came back late, and told me that none
+of Mr. John's servants or guests remembered the stranger, and that he
+could find no trace of him. "By the way," he concluded, "a gentleman
+whom I met just as I went out, bid me tell you that he was on the point
+of leaving the country, and that in a year and a day he would call on
+you to propose new business. He said you would know who he was."
+
+"How did he look?" Bendel described the man in the grey coat! He was in
+despair when I told him that this was the very person I wanted. But it
+was too late; he had gone without leaving a trace.
+
+A famous artist for whom I sent to ask him whether he could paint me a
+shadow, told me that he might, but I should be bound to lose it again at
+the slightest movement.
+
+"How did you manage to lose yours?" he asked. I had to lie. "When I was
+travelling in Russia it froze so firmly to the ground that I could not
+get it off again."
+
+"The best thing you can do is not to walk in the sun," the artist
+retorted with a piercing look, and walked out.
+
+I confessed my misfortune to Bendel, and the sympathetic lad, after a
+terrible struggle with his conscience, decided to remain in my service.
+From that day he was always with me, ever trying to throw his broad
+shadow over me to conceal my affliction from the world. Nevertheless,
+the fair Fanny, whom I often met in the hours of dusk and evening, and
+who had begun to show me marked favour, discovered my terrible secret
+one night, as the moon suddenly rose from behind a cloud, and fainted
+with terror.
+
+There was nothing left for me but to leave the town. I sent for horses,
+took only Bendel and another servant, a rogue named Gauner, with me, and
+covered thirty miles during the night. Then we continued our journey
+across the mountains to a little-frequented watering-place, where I was
+anxious to seek rest from my troubles.
+
+
+_II.--A Soul for a Shadow_
+
+
+Bendel preceded me to prepare a house for my reception, and spent money
+so lavishly that the rumour spread the King of Prussia was coming
+incognito. A grand reception was prepared by the townsfolk, with music
+and flowers and a chorus of maidens in white, led by a girl of wonderful
+beauty. And all this in broad sunlight! I did not move in my carriage,
+and Bendel tried to explain that there must be a mistake, which made the
+good folk believe that I wanted to remain incognito. Bendel handed a
+diamond tiara to the beautiful maiden, and we drove on amid cheering and
+firing of guns.
+
+I became known as Count Peter, and when it was found out that the King
+of Prussia was elsewhere, they all thought I must be some other king. I
+gave a grand fete, Bendel taking good care to have such lavish
+illuminations all round that no one should notice the absence of my
+shadow. I had masses of gold coins thrown among the people in the
+street, and gave Mina, the beautiful girl who headed the chorus at my
+arrival, all the jewels I had brought with me, for distribution among
+her friends. She was the daughter of the verdurer, and I lost no time in
+making friends with her parents, and succeeded in gaining Mina's
+affection.
+
+Continuing to spend money with regal lavishness, I myself led a simple
+and retired life, never leaving my rooms in daylight. Bendel warned me
+of Gauner's extensive thefts; but I did not mind. Why should I grudge
+him the money, of which I had an inexhaustible store? In the evenings I
+used to meet Mina in her garden, and always found her loving, though
+awed by my wealth and supposed rank. Yet, conscious of my dreadful
+secret, I dared not ask for her hand. But the year was nearly up since I
+had made the fateful bargain, and I looked forward to the promised visit
+of the grey man, whom I hoped to persuade to take back his bag for my
+shadow. In fact, I told the verdurer that on the first of the next month
+I should ask him for his daughter's hand.
+
+The anniversary arrived--midday, evening, midnight. I waited through the
+long hours, heard the clock strike twelve; but the grey man did not
+come! Towards morning I fell into a fitful slumber. I was awakened by
+angry voices. Gauner forced his way into my room, which was defended by
+the faithful Bendel.
+
+"What do you want, you rogue?"
+
+"Only to see your shadow, with your lordship's permission."
+
+"How dare you----"
+
+"I am not going to serve a man without a shadow. Either you show it to
+me, or I go."
+
+I wanted to offer him money; but he, who had stolen millions, refused to
+accept money from a man without a shadow. He put on his hat, and left
+the room whistling.
+
+When at dark I went, with a heavy heart, to Mina's bower, I found her,
+pale and beautiful, and her father with a letter in his hand. He looked
+at the letter, then scrutinised me, and said, "Do you happen to know, my
+lord, a certain Peter Schlemihl, who lost his shadow?"
+
+"Oh, my foreboding!" cried Mina. "I knew it; he has no shadow!"
+
+"And you dared," continued the verdurer, "to deceive us? See how she
+sobs! Confess now how you lost your shadow."
+
+Again I was forced to lie. "Some time ago a man stepped so clumsily into
+my shadow that he made a big hole. I sent it to be mended, and was
+promised to have it back yesterday."
+
+"Very well. Either you present yourself within three days with a
+well-fitting shadow, or, on the next day, my daughter will be another
+man's wife."
+
+I rushed away, half conscious, groaning and raving. I do not know how
+long and how far I ran, but I found myself on a sunny heath, when
+somebody suddenly pulled my sleeve. I turned round. It was the man in
+the grey coat!
+
+"I announced my visit for to-day. You made a mistake in your impatience.
+All is well. You buy your shadow back and you will be welcomed by your
+bride. As for Gauner, who has betrayed you and has asked for Mina's
+hand--he is ripe for me."
+
+I groped for the bag but the stranger stopped me.
+
+"No, my lord, you keep this; I only want a little souvenir. Be good
+enough and sign this scrap." On the parchment was written: "I herewith
+assign to bearer my soul after its natural separation from my body."
+
+I sternly refused. "I am not inclined to stake my soul for my shadow."
+
+He continued to urge, giving the most plausible reasons why I should
+sign. But I was firm. He even tried to tempt me by unrolling my shadow
+on the heath. "A line of your pen, and you save your Mina from that
+rogue's clutches."
+
+At that moment Bendel arrived on the scene, saw me in tears, my shadow
+on the ground apparently in the stranger's power, and set upon the man
+with his stick. The grey man walked away, and Bendel followed him,
+raining blows upon his shoulders, till they disappeared from sight.
+
+I was left with my despair, and spent the day and night on the heath. I
+was resolved not to return among men, and wandered about for three days,
+feeding on wild fruit and spring-water. On the morning of the fourth day
+I suddenly heard a sound, but could see nobody--only a shadow, not
+unlike my own, but without body. I determined to seize it, and rushed
+after it. Gradually I gained on it; with a final rush I made for it--and
+met unexpectedly bodily resistance. We fell on the ground, and a man
+became visible under me. I understood at once. The man must have had the
+invisible bird's nest, which he dropped in the struggle, thus becoming
+visible himself.
+
+The nest being invisible, I looked for its shadow, found it, seized it
+quickly, and, of course, disappeared from the man's sight. I left him
+tearing his hair in despair; and I rejoiced at being able to go again
+among men. Quickly I proceeded to Mina's garden, which was still empty,
+although I imagined I heard steps following me. I sat down on a bench,
+and watched the verdurer leaving the house. Then a fog seemed to pass
+over my head. I looked around, and--oh, horror!--beheld the grey man
+sitting by my side. He had pulled his magic cap over my head, at his
+feet was his shadow and my own, and his hand played with the parchment.
+
+"So we are both under the same cap," he began; "now please give me back
+my bird's nest. Thanks! You see, sometimes we are forced to do what we
+refuse when asked kindly. I think you had better buy that shadow back.
+I'll throw in the magic cap."
+
+Meanwhile, Mina's mother had joined the verdurer, and they began to
+discuss Mina's approaching marriage and Gauner's wealth, which amounted
+to ten millions. Then Mina joined them. She was urged to consent, and
+finally said, sobbingly, "I have no further wish on earth. Do with me as
+you please." At this moment Gauner approached, and Mina fainted.
+
+"Can you endure this?" asked my companion. "Have you no blood in your
+veins?" He rapidly scratched a slight wound in my hand, and dipped a pen
+in the blood. "To be sure, red blood! Then sign." And I took the pen and
+parchment.
+
+I had scarcely touched food for days, and the excitement of this last
+hour had completely exhausted my strength. Before I had time to sign I
+swooned away. When I awoke it was dark. My hateful companion was in a
+towering rage. The sound of festive music came from the brightly
+illuminated house; groups of people strolled through the garden, talking
+of Mina's marriage with the wealthy Mr. Gauner, which had taken place
+this morning.
+
+Disengaging myself from the magic cap, which act made my companion
+disappear from my view, I made for the garden gate. But the invisible
+wretch followed me with his taunts. He only left me at the door of my
+house, with a mocking "_au revoir_." The place had been wrecked by the
+mob and was deserted. Only the faithful Bendel was there to receive me
+with tears of mingled grief and joy. I pressed him to my heart, and bid
+him leave me to my misery. I told him to keep a few boxes filled with
+gold, that were still in the house, made him saddle my horse, and
+departed, leaving the choice of the road to the animal, for I had
+neither aim, nor wish, nor hope.
+
+A pedestrian joined me on the sad journey. After tramping along for a
+while, he asked permission to put his cloak on my horse. I consented; he
+thanked me, and then, in a kind of soliloquy, began to praise the power
+of wealth, and to speak cleverly of metaphysics. Meanwhile, day was
+dawning; the sun was about to rise, the shadows to spread their
+splendour--and I was not alone! I looked at my companion--it was the man
+with the grey coat!
+
+He smiled at my surprise, and continued to converse amiably. In fact, he
+not only offered to replace for the time being my former servant Bendel,
+but actually lent me my shadow for the journey. The temptation was
+great. I suddenly gave my horse the spurs and galloped off at full
+speed; but, alas! my shadow remained behind and I had to turn back
+shamefacedly.
+
+"You can't escape me," said my companion, "I hold you by your shadow."
+And all the time, hour by hour, day by day, he continued his urging. At
+last we quarrelled seriously, and he decided to leave me. "If ever you
+want me, you have only to shake your bag. You hold me by my gold. You
+know I can be useful, especially to the wealthy; you have seen it."
+
+I thought of the past and asked him quickly, "Did you get Mr. John's
+signature?" He smiled. "With so good a friend, the formality was not
+necessary."
+
+"Where is he? I want to know."
+
+He hesitated, then put his hand into his pocket, and pulled out Mr.
+John's livid body; the blue lips of the corpse moved, and uttered
+painfully the words: "_Justo judico Dei judicatus sum; justo judicio Dei
+condemnatus sum."_
+
+Seized with horror, I threw the inexhaustible money-bag into the abyss,
+and then spoke the final words. "You fiend, I exorcise you in the name
+of God! Be off, and never show yourself before mine eyes again!"
+
+He glared at me furiously and disappeared instantly.
+
+
+_III.--The Wanderer_
+
+
+Left now without shadow and without money, save for the few gold pieces
+still in my pocket, I could almost have been happy, had it not been for
+the loss of my love. My horse was down below at the inn; I decided to
+leave it there and to wander on on foot. In the forest I encountered a
+peasant, from whom I obtained information about the district and its
+inhabitants. He was an intelligent man, and I quite enjoyed the talk.
+When we approached the wide bed of a mountain stream, I made him walk in
+front, but he turned round to speak to me. Suddenly he broke off--"But
+how is that? You have no shadow!"
+
+"Unfortunately!" I said, with a sigh. "During an illness I lost my hair,
+nails, and shadow. The hair and nails have grown again, but the shadow
+won't."
+
+"That must have been a bad illness," said the peasant, and walked on in
+silence till we reached the nearest side-road, when he turned off
+without saying another word. I wept bitter tears, and my good spirits
+had vanished. And so I wandered on sadly, avoiding all villages till
+nightfall, and often waiting for hours to pass a sunny patch unobserved.
+I wanted to find work in a mine to save me from my thoughts.
+
+My boots began to be worn out. My slender means made me decide to buy a
+strong pair that had already been used; new ones were too dear. I put
+them on at once, and walked out of the village, scarcely noticing the
+way, since I was thinking deeply of the mine I hoped to reach the same
+night, and of the manner in which I was to obtain employment. I had
+scarcely walked two hundred steps, when I noticed that I had lost the
+road. I was in a wild virginal forest. Another few steps and I was on an
+endless ice-field. The cold was unbearable, and I had to hasten my
+steps. I ran for a few minutes, and found myself in rice-fields where
+Chinese labourers were working. There could be no doubt; I had seven-
+league boots on my feet!
+
+I fell on my knees, shedding tears of gratitude. Now my future was
+clear. Excluded from society, study and science were to be my future
+strength and hope. I wandered through the whole world from east to west,
+from north to south, comparing the fauna and flora of the different
+regions. To reduce the speed of my progress, I found I had only to pull
+a pair of slippers over my boots. When I wanted money, I just took an
+ivory tusk to sell in London. And finally I made a home in the ancient
+caves of the desert near Thebes.
+
+Once in the far north I encountered a polar bear. Throwing off my
+slippers, I wanted to step upon an island facing me. I firmly placed my
+foot on it, but on the other side I fell into the sea, as the slipper
+had not come off my boot. I saved my life and hurried to the Libyan
+desert to cure my cold in the sun; but the heat made me ill. I lost
+consciousness, and when I awoke again I was in a comfortable bed among
+other beds, and on the wall facing me I saw inscribed in golden letters
+my own name.
+
+To cut things short--the institution which had received me had been
+founded by Bendel and the widowed Mina with my money, and in my honour
+had been called the Schlemihlium. As soon as I felt strong enough, I
+returned to my desert cave, and thus I live to this day.
+
+You, my dear Chamisso, are to be the keeper of my strange history, which
+may contain useful advice for many. You, if you will live among men,
+honour first the shadow, then the money. But, if you live only for your
+better self, you will need no advice.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+CHATEAUBRIAND
+
+
+Atala
+
+      Francois René, Vicomte de Chateaubriand, born on September 4,
+     1768, at St. Malo, Brittany, was as distinguished for his
+     extraordinary and romantic career as for the versatility of
+     his genius. At the height of the Revolution (1791) he left for
+     America with the intention of discovering the North-West
+     passage, but in two years returned to fight on the royalist
+     side, and was wounded at the siege of Thionville. Emigrating
+     to England, he remained in London for eight years, supporting
+     himself with difficulty by translating and teaching and
+     writing. Returning to France, Chateaubriand was appointed by
+     Napoleon secretary to the embassy in Rome, but the execution
+     of the Duke d'Enghien so repelled him that he resigned and set
+     out on a long Oriental journey. Living in privacy till the
+     fall of Napoleon, he then returned to his native land, and
+     from 1822 to 1824 was ambassador to the British Court. His
+     whole political career was eccentric and uncertain, and he
+     himself declared that he was by heredity and honour a
+     Bourbonist, by conviction a Monarchist, but by temperament a
+     Republican. He died on July 4, 1848. "Atala," which appeared
+     in 1801, formed the first part of a prose epic, "The Natchez,"
+     on the wild and picturesque life of the Red Indians, the idea
+     for which Chateaubriand had conceived while wandering about
+     America. It at once raised its author to the highest position
+     in the French literary world of the age of Napoleon. In 1802,
+     Chateaubriand published a work of still greater importance--at
+     least, from a social point of view--"The Genius of
+     Christianity"--which magnificent and gorgeous piece of
+     rhetoric produced a profound change in the general attitude of
+     Frenchmen in regard to religion, undid to some extent the
+     destructive work of Voltaire, and was instrumental in inducing
+     Napoleon to come to terms with the Pope. But it is on "Atala"
+     that Chateaubriand's title to be one of the greatest masters
+     of French prose literature depends.
+
+
+_I.--The Song of Death_
+
+
+"It is surely a singular fate," said the old, blind Red Indian chief to
+the young Frenchman, "which has brought us together from the ends of the
+earth. I see in you a civilised man, who, for some strange reason,
+wishes to become a savage. You see in me a savage, who, also for some
+strange reason, has tried to become a civilised man. Though we have
+entered on life from two opposite points, here we are, sitting side by
+side. And I, a childless man, have sworn to be a father to you, and you,
+a fatherless boy, have sworn to be a son to me."
+
+Chactas, the chief of the Natchez, and René, the Frenchman, whom he had
+adopted into his tribe, were sitting at the prow of a pirogue, which,
+with its sail of sewn skins outstretched to the night wind, was gliding
+down the moonlit waters of the Ohio, amid the magnificent desert of
+Kentucky. Behind them was a fleet of pirogues, which René was piloting
+on a hunting foray. Seeing that all the Indians were sleeping, Chactas
+went on talking to his adopted son.
+
+"How little, even now, we know of each other, René. You never told me
+what it was that made you leave France in 1725, and come to Louisiana,
+and ask to be admitted to our tribe. I have never told you why I have
+not married and got children to succeed me, and help me in my old age to
+govern my people.
+
+"It is now seventy-three years since my mother brought me into the world
+on the banks of the Mississippi. In 1652 there were a few Spaniards
+settled in the bay of Pensacola, but no white man was then seen in
+Louisiana. I was scarcely seventeen years old when I fought with my
+father, the famous warrior Outalissi, against the Creeks of Florida. We
+were then allied with the Spaniards, but, in spite of the help they gave
+us, we were defeated. My father was killed, and I was grievously
+wounded. Oh, why did I then not descend into the land of the dead? Happy
+indeed should I have been had I thus escaped from the fate which was
+waiting for me on earth!
+
+"But one of our allies, an old Castilian, named Lopez, moved by my youth
+and simplicity, rescued me in the battle and led me to the town of St.
+Augustin, which his countrymen had recently built. My benefactor took me
+to his home, and he and his sister adopted me as their son, and tried to
+teach me their knowledge and religion. But after passing thirteen months
+at St. Augustin I was seized with a disgust for town life. The city
+seemed to me a prison, and I longed to get back to the wild life of my
+fathers. At last I resolved to return to my tribe, and one morning I
+came to Lopez, clad in the dress of the Natchez, with bow and arrows in
+one hand, and a tomahawk in the other.
+
+"'Oh, my father,' I said to him, my face streaming with tears, 'I shall
+die if I stay in this city. I am an Indian, and I must live like an
+Indian.'
+
+"Lopez tried to detain me by pointing out the peril I was running. But I
+already knew that in order to join the Natchez I should have to pass
+through the country of the Creeks, and might fall into the hands of our
+old enemies; and this did not deter me. At last, Lopez, seeing how
+resolute I was, said, 'Go, my boy, and God be with you! Were I only
+younger, I, too, would return with you to the wilderness, where the
+happiest part of my life was spent. But when you get back to the forest,
+think sometimes of the old Spaniard of St. Augustin, and if ever a white
+man falls into your hands, treat him, my son, as I have treated you.'
+
+"It was not long, René, before I was punished for my ingratitude in
+running away from my protector. I had forgotten in the city my knowledge
+of wood-craft, and I lost my way in the great forest, and was captured
+by a band of Creeks. My costume and the feathers in my hair proclaimed
+me one of the Natchez, and when Simaghan, the chief of the band, bound
+me, and demanded who I was, I proudly answered. 'I am Chactas, the son
+of the Outalissi who took more than a hundred scalps from the warriors
+of the Creeks.'
+
+"'Chactas, son of Outalissi,' said Simaghan, 'rejoice! We will burn you
+before our wig-wams.'
+
+"'That is good news,' I said, and thereupon I sang my song of death.
+
+"Although the Creeks were my enemies, I could not help admiring them.
+They were fine, handsome men of a merry and open nature, and their women
+were beautiful, and full of pity towards me. One night, while I was
+lying sleepless beside their camp fire, one of their maidens came and
+sat by my side. Her face was strangely lovely; her eyes shone with
+tears; and a little golden crucifix on her bosom glittered as the
+firelight played upon it.
+
+"'Maiden,' I said, 'your beauty is too great to be wasted on a dying
+man. Let me die without tasting the delights of love. They would only
+make death more bitter to me. You are worthy to be the squaw of a great
+chief. Wait till you can find a lover with whom you can live in joy and
+happiness all your life.'
+
+"'Are you a Christian?' asked the maiden.
+
+"'No,' I replied. 'I have not betrayed the faith of my forefathers.'
+
+"'Oh, you are only a wicked heathen,' she exclaimed, covering her face
+with her hands and weeping. 'I have been baptised by my mother. I am
+Atala, daughter of Simaghan of the golden bracelets, and the chief of
+this band. We are going to Cuscowilla, where you will be burnt.'
+
+"And with a look of anger, Atala rose up and went away."
+
+Here Chactas for a moment became silent. Tears rolled from his blind
+eyes down his withered cheeks.
+
+"Oh René, my son," he said, "you see that Chactas is very foolish in
+spite of his reputation for wisdom! Why do men still weep, even when age
+has blinded their eyes? Every night Atala came to see me, and a strange
+love for her was born in my heart. After marching for seventeen days, my
+captors brought me to the great savannah of Alachua, and camped in a
+valley not far from Cuscowilla, the capital of the Creeks. I was bound
+to the foot of a tree outside the town, and a warrior was set to watch
+over me.
+
+"But in the evening Atala came, and said to him, 'If you would like to
+go hunting, I will look after the prisoner.'
+
+"The young warrior leaped up, full of joy at being relieved by the
+daughter of his chief, and when he had gone, Atala released me.
+
+"'Now, Chactas,' she murmured, turning her face away from me, 'you can
+escape.'
+
+"'I do not want to escape,' I cried, 'unless I can escape with you!'
+
+"'But they will burn you,' she said. 'They will burn you to-morrow!'
+
+"'What does it matter,' I exclaimed, 'if you do not love me?'
+
+"'But I do love you,' said Atala, and she bent over and kissed me.
+
+"Then with a wild look of terror, she pushed me away from her, and
+staggering up to the tree, she covered her face with her hands, and
+sobbed, rocking herself to and fro in her grief.
+
+"'Oh, my mother, my mother!' she sobbed. 'I have forgotten my vow. I
+cannot follow you,' she said, turning to me. 'You are not a Christian.'
+
+"'But I will be a Christian,' I cried. 'Only come with me, Atala, and I
+will be baptised by the first priest that we meet. There are several
+missionaries among the Natchez.'
+
+"To my utter astonishment, instead of this comforting Atala, it only
+made her weep more passionately. Her body shook with sobs as I took her
+up in my arms and carried her away from the town into the great forest.
+At last she grew calmer, and asked me to set her down, and, striking a
+narrow track between the dark trees, we marched along silently and
+quickly, stopping now and then to listen if we were being followed. We
+heard nothing but the crackling tread of some nocturnal beast of prey,
+or the cry of some animal in the agony of death. On coming to an opening
+in the forest I made a shelter for the night. Atala then threw herself
+at my feet, and clasped my knees, and again begged me to leave her. But
+I swore that, if she returned to the camp, I would follow her, and give
+myself up. As we were talking, the cry of death rang through the forest,
+and four warriors fell upon me and bound me. Our flight had been
+discovered, and Simaghan had set out in pursuit with all his band.
+
+"In vain did Atala plead for me; I was condemned to be burnt. Happily,
+the Feast of Souls was being held, and no tribe dares to kill a captive
+during the days consecrated to this solemn ceremony. But after the feast
+I was bound down on the ground before the sacred totem pillars, and all
+the maidens and warriors of the Creek nation danced around me, chanting
+songs of triumph. Again I sang my song of death.
+
+"'I do not fear your torments! For I am brave! I defy you, for you are
+all weaker than women. My father, Outalissi, has drunk from the skulls
+of your bravest warriors. Burn me! Torture me! But you will not make me
+groan; you will not make me sigh.'
+
+"Angered by my song, a Creek warrior stabbed me in the arm. 'Thank you,'
+I said.
+
+"To make sure that I should not again escape, they bound cords around my
+neck and feet and arms; the ends of these cords were fastened in the
+earth by means of pegs, and a band of warriors set to watch over me laid
+down on the cords, so that I could not make a single movement of which
+they were not aware. The songs and dances gradually ceased as night came
+on, and the camp fires burnt low and red, and, in spite of my pain, I,
+too, fell asleep. I dreamt that someone was setting me free, and I
+seemed to feel that sharp anguish which shoots along the nerves when
+ropes, which are bound so tightly as to stop the flow of blood, are
+suddenly cut from the numbed limbs. The pain became so keen that it made
+me open my eyes. A tall, white figure was bending over me, silently
+cutting my cords. It was Atala. I rose up and followed her through the
+sleeping camp.
+
+"When we were out of ear-shot she told me that she had bribed the
+medicine man of her tribe, and brought some barrels of fire-water into
+the camp and made all the warriors drunk with it. Drunkenness, no doubt,
+prevented the Creeks from following us for a day or two. And if
+afterwards they pursued us, they probably turned to the west, thinking
+that we had set out in the direction of the country of Natchez. But we
+had gone north, tracking our way by the moss growing on the trunks of
+the trees."
+
+_II.--The Magic of the Forest_
+
+
+"The Creeks had stripped me almost naked, but Atala made me a dress out
+of the inner bark of the ash-tree and sewed some rat-skins into
+moccasins. I, in turn, wove garlands of flowers for her head as we
+tramped along through the great forests of Florida. Oh, how wildly
+beautiful the scenes were through which we passed. Nearly all the trees
+in Florida are covered with a white moss which hangs from their branches
+to the ground. At night-time, when the moonlight falls, pearly grey, on
+the indeterminate crest of the forests, the trees look like an army of
+phantoms in long, trailing veils. In the daytime a crowd of large,
+beautiful butterflies, brilliant humming birds, and blue-winged jays and
+parroquets come and cling to the moss, which then resembles a white
+tapestry embroidered with splendid and varied hues.
+
+"Every evening we made a great fire and built a shelter out of a large
+hollow piece of bark, fixed on four stakes. The forests were full of
+game, which I easily brought down with the bow and arrows I took when we
+fled from the camp, and as it was now autumn, the forests were hung with
+fruit. Every day I became more and more joyful, but Atala was strangely
+quiet. Sometimes, as I suddenly turned my head to see why she was so
+silent, I would find her gazing at me, her eyes burning with passion.
+Sometimes she would kneel down, and clasp her hands in prayer and weep
+like a woman with a broken heart. What frightened me above all was the
+secret thought that she tried to conceal in the depths of her soul, but,
+now and then, half revealed in her wild, sorrowful, and lovely eyes. Oh,
+how many times did she tell me:
+
+"'Yes, I love you, Chactas, I love you! But I can never be your wife!'
+
+"I could not understand her. One minute she would cling round my neck
+and kiss me; another, when I wished in turn to caress her, she would
+repulse me.
+
+"'But as I intend, Atala, to become a Christian, what is there to
+prevent us marrying?' I said, again and again.
+
+"And every time I asked this question she burst into tears and would not
+answer. But the wild loneliness, the continual presence of my beloved,
+yes, even the hardships of our wandering life, increased the force of my
+longing. A hundred times I was ready to fold Atala to my breast. A
+hundred times I proposed to build her a hut in the wide, uninhabited
+wilderness, and live my life out there by her side.
+
+"Oh, René, my son, if your heart is ever deeply troubled by love, beware
+of loneliness. Great passions are wild and solitary things; by
+transporting them into the wilderness you give them full power over your
+soul. But in spite of this, Atala and I lived together in the great
+forests like brother and sister. On and on we marched, through vaults of
+flowery smilax, where lianas with strange and gorgeous blossoms snared
+our feet in their twining ropy stems. Enormous bats fluttered in our
+faces, rattlesnakes rattled around us, and bears and carcajous--those
+little tigers that crouch on the branches of trees, and leap without
+warning on their prey--made the latter part of our journey full of
+strange perils and difficulties. For after travelling for twenty-seven
+days, we crossed the Alleghany mountains, and got into a tract of
+swampy, wooded ground.
+
+"At sunset a tempest arose and darkened all the heavens. Then the sky
+opened, and the noise of the tempestuous forest was drowned in long,
+rolling detonations of thunder, and the wild lightning flamed down upon
+us, and set the forest on fire. Crouching down under the bent trunk of a
+birch-tree, with my beloved on my lap, I sheltered her from the
+streaming rain, and warmed her naked feet in my hands. What cared I,
+though the very heavens broke above me, and the earth rocked to its
+foundations? The soft, warm arms of Atala were around my neck, her
+breast lay against my breast, and I felt her heart beating as wildly as
+my own.
+
+"'O my beloved,' I said, 'open your heart to me, and tell me the secret
+that makes you so sorrowful. Do you weep at leaving your native land?'
+
+"'No,' she said. 'I do not regret leaving the land of palm trees, for my
+mother is dead, and Simaghan was only my foster father.'
+
+"'Then who was your father, my beloved?' I cried in astonishment.
+
+"'My father was a Spaniard,' said Atala, 'but my grandmother threw water
+in his face, and made him go away, and she then forced my mother to give
+herself in marriage to Simaghan, who desired her. But she died from
+grief at being parted from my father, and Simaghan adopted me as his own
+daughter. I have never seen my father, though my mother, before she
+died, baptised me, so that his God should be my God. Oh, Chactas, I wish
+I could see my father before I die!'
+
+"'What is his name?' I said. 'Where does he live?'
+
+"'He lives at St. Augustin,' she replied. 'His name is Philip Lopez.'
+
+"'O, my beloved,' I cried, pressing Atala wildly to may breast. 'Oh,
+what happiness, what joy! You are the daughter of Lopez, the daughter of
+my foster father!'
+
+"Atala was frightened at my outburst of passion, but when she knew that
+it was her father who had rescued me from the Creeks, and brought me up
+as his own son, she became as wildly joyful as I was. Rising up from my
+arms, with a strange, fierce, and yet tender light in her eyes, she took
+something out of her bosom and put in her mouth, and then fell on my
+breast in an ecstasy of self-surrender. Just as I was about to embrace
+her, the lightning fell, the sword of God, upon the surging, stormy
+forest, and made a wild and terrible radiance around us, and shattered a
+great tree at our feet. We rose up, overcome by a sacred horror, and
+fled. And then an even more miraculous thing happened. As the rolling
+thunder died away we heard in the silence and the darkness the sound of
+a bell. A dog barked, and came running joyfully up to us. Behind him was
+an old, white-haired priest, carrying a lantern in his hand.
+
+"'Dear God!' said the priest. 'How young they are! Poor children! My dog
+found you in the forest just before the storm broke, and ran back to my
+cave to fetch me. I have brought some wine in my calabash. Drink it, it
+will revive you. Did you not hear the mission bell, which we ring every
+night so that strangers may find their way?'
+
+"'Save me, father, save me!' cried Atala, falling to the ground. 'I am a
+Christian, and I do not want to die in mortal sin.'
+
+"What was the matter with her? She was as pale as death, and unable to
+rise. I bent over her, and so did the missionary.
+
+"'Oh, Chactas,' she murmured, 'I am dying. Just before the lightning
+struck the tree at our feet, I took some poison. For I felt that I could
+no longer resist you, my beloved, and I was resolved to save myself in
+death.'
+
+"'But here is a priest,' I said. 'I will be baptised at once, and we can
+be married immediately afterwards.'
+
+"'I could not marry you, even then,' she said. 'I was sixteen years old
+when my mother died, and in order to preserve me from marrying any of
+the heathen savages among whom my lot was cast, she made me vow, on the
+image of Mary the Mother of my God, that I would remain all my life a
+pure, Christian virgin.'
+
+"Oh, René, how I hated the God of the Christians at that moment! I drew
+my tomahawk, resolved to kill the missionary on the spot. But
+disregarding me, he bent over Atala, and raised her head upon his knees.
+
+"'My dear child, your vow does not prevent you from marrying your lover,
+especially as he is willing to become a Christian. I will write at once
+to the Bishop of Quebec, who has the power to relieve you of any vow
+that you have made, and then there will be nothing to prevent your
+marriage.'
+
+"As he spoke, Atala was seized with a convulsion which shook all her
+body. In wild agony, she cried: 'Oh, it is too late, it is too late! I
+thought my mother's spirit would come and drag me down to hell if I
+broke my vow. I took poison with me, Chactas, when I fled with you. I
+have just swallowed it. There is no remedy. Oh, God! Oh, God!'
+
+"She was dead in my arms. I buried her where she died, and had it not
+been for the missionary, René, I would have laid down in the grave, by
+her side, and let the blood well out of all my veins. But I became a
+Christian, as you know, and then, finding some work in the world to do,
+I went back to my own tribe, and converted them. I have been to France.
+I have seen your great king Louis XIV. I have talked with Bishop
+Bossuet, and it was he who convinced me that I could best serve God by
+returning to my own people, the Natchez, and trying to form them into a
+great Christian nation under the guidance of the King of France."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+CHARLES VICTOR CHERBULIEZ
+
+
+Samuel Brohl & Co.
+
+      Charles Victor Cherbuliez was born in Geneva, Switzerland, in
+     1829, studied history and philosophy in Paris, Bonn and Berlin
+     and travelled widely, gathering material that he used in
+     social and political essays and also in fiction. He won fame
+     with his first novel, "Count Kostia," published in 1863. After
+     that date his romances followed in quick succession. Embodying
+     extravagant adventures, they must be classed nevertheless in
+     the category of the sentimental novel to which the writings of
+     Sand and Feuillet belong. Cherbuliez is always an interesting
+     story-teller and an ingenious artificer of plot, but his
+     psychology is conventional and his descriptive passages
+     superficial though clever. "Samuel Brohl & Co.," published in
+     1877, illustrates his power of drawing cosmopolitan types,
+     Russians, Poles, English, Germans and Jews, which he portrays
+     in all his novels. He was admitted to the French Academy in
+     1881, and died in 1899.
+
+
+_I.--A Mountain Romance_
+
+
+"Yes! she is certainly very beautiful as well as very rich," said Count
+Abel Larinski, as he watched, through his hotel window, the graceful
+figure of Mlle. Antoinette Moriaz. "A marriage between Count Abel
+Larinski, the sole descendant of one of the most ancient and noble
+families of Poland, and Mlle. Moriaz, the daughter of the President of
+the French Institute, is a thing which might be arranged. But alas!
+Count Abel Larinski, you are a very poor man. Let me see how long you
+will be able to stay in Saint Moritz? These hotels in the Upper Engadine
+are frightfully dear!"
+
+The handsome young Polish nobleman opened his purse and looked at the
+contents rather sadly. It was almost empty. He would certainly have to
+sell some of his family jewels, if he wanted to stay at Saint Moritz.
+Unhappily, he now had only the fine diamond ring, which he wore on his
+finger, and a Persian bracelet composed of three golden plates connected
+by a band of filigree work.
+
+"Now, which shall I sell," said the Count; "the Larinski ring, or the
+bracelet which belonged to Samuel Brohl? The ring, I think. It will
+bring in much more money, and besides, the bracelet might be useful as a
+present."
+
+After strolling some time about the garden, Mlle. Moriaz saw her father
+waiting for her at the door.
+
+"What do you think, Antoinette, of an excursion to Silvaplana Lake?"
+said M. Moriaz. "I'm feeling so much better already, and I absolutely
+long, my dear, for a good walk."
+
+"I should be delighted," said his daughter, "if you think it will not
+tire you."
+
+M. Moriaz was sure an excursion would not tire him. So they set out for
+a long walk, through the wild mountain scenery. Antoinette was delighted
+to find that her father was recovering his strength, but he was
+alarmingly quiet and thoughtful. Was she in for one of those serious
+lectures on the subject of marriage which he used to read to her at
+Paris? Yes! Camille must have written to him. For as she was standing on
+a mountain bridge, listening to the liquid gurgling of the torrent at
+the bottom of the gorge, she said to him:
+
+"Isn't the music of this wild stream delightful?"
+
+"Yes!" he replied. "But I think this bridge that spans the gorge is a
+more wonderful thing than all the wild works of nature around us. I
+admire men, like our friend Camille Langis, who know how to build these
+bridges. What a fine fellow he is! Most men, with his wealth, lead idle,
+useless lives. But there he is now, building bridges across mountains
+just as wild as these, in Hungary. Why don't you marry him, my dear? He
+is madly in love with you, and you have known him all your life."
+
+"That's just it," said his daughter, with a movement of impatience, "I
+have known him all my life. How can I now fall wildly and suddenly in
+love with him? No! If ever I lose my heart, I am sure it will be to some
+stranger, to someone quite different from all the men we meet in Paris."
+
+"You are incorrigibly romantic, Antoinette," said her father, with just
+a touch of ill-humour. "You want a fairy prince, eh?--one of those
+strange, picturesque, impossible creatures that only exist in the
+imagination of poets and school girls. You are now twenty-four years
+old, Antoinette, and if you don't soon become more reasonable, you will
+die an old maid."
+
+"Would that be a very great misfortune, father darling?" said Antoinette
+with a roguish smile. "If ever I marry, you know, I shall have to leave
+you. And what would you do then? You would be driven to marry your
+cook!"
+
+This sally put the old scientist in a good humour. His daughter was the
+charm and solace of his life, and though he would have liked to see her
+happily married, he did not know what he should do when she left him. On
+the way back to the hotel, Antoinette tried to find some edelweiss, but
+she was not able to clamber up to the high rocks on which this rare
+flower grows. Great therefore were her joy and surprise, on returning to
+the hotel, to find on the table of her room a wicker basket, full of
+edelweiss, and rarer Alpine flowers. Was it for her? Yes! For in the
+basket was a note addressed, "Mlle. Moriaz." Fluttering with excitement
+she opened it, and read:
+
+      "I arrived in this valley, disgusted with life, sad, and
+     weary to death. But I saw you pass by my window, and some
+     strange, new power entered my soul. Now I know that I shall
+     live, and accomplish my work in the world. 'What does this
+     matter to me?' you will say when you read these lines--and you
+     will be right. My only excuse for writing to you in this way
+     is that I shall depart in a few days, and that you will never
+     see me, and never know who I am."
+
+After getting over her first impression of profound astonishment,
+Antoinette laughed, and then gave way to curiosity. Who had brought the
+flowers? "A little peasant boy," said the hotel porter, "but I did not
+know him. He must have come from another village."
+
+For some days, Mlle. Moriaz glanced at everybody she met, but she never
+found a single romantic figure in the crowd of invalids that sauntered
+about St. Moritz. If, however, she had always accompanied her father,
+who, growing stronger every day, began to go out on long geological
+excursions, she might have met a very picturesque and striking young
+man. For Count Abel Larinski now always followed M. Moriaz, and watched
+over him like a guardian angel. "Oh, if he would only fall down one of
+the rocks he is always hammering at, and break a leg, or even sprain an
+ankle!" said the gallant Polish nobleman. "Wouldn't that be a lucky
+accident for me!"
+
+All things, it is said, come to those who know how to wait. One
+afternoon M. Moriaz climbed up a very steep slope of crumbling rock, and
+came to a narrow gorge over which he was afraid to leap. He could not
+descend by the way he had come up, for the slope was really dangerous.
+It looked as though he should have to wait hours, and perhaps, days,
+until some herdsman passed by; and he began to shout wildly in the hopes
+of attracting attention. To his great joy, his shout was answered, and
+Count Larinski climbed up the other side of the gorge, carrying a plank,
+torn from a fence he passed on his way. By means of this, he bridged the
+gorge, and rescued the father of Antoinette, and naturally, he had to
+accompany him to the hotel, and stay to dinner. As we have said, Count
+Larinski was a very handsome man; tall, broad-shouldered, with strange
+green eyes touched with soft golden tints. When he began to talk, simply
+and modestly of the part he had played in the last Polish Revolution
+against the despotic power of Russia, Antoinette felt at last that she
+was in the presence of a hero. And what a cultivated man he was! He
+played the piano divinely, and they passed many pleasant evenings
+together. One night, the Count left behind him a piece of music,
+inscribed "Abel Larinski." "Surely," Mlle. Moriaz thought, "I have seen
+that writing somewhere!" Her breath came quickly, as with a trembling
+hand she took out of her bosom the letter which had been sent with the
+flowers, and compared the handwritings. They were identical.
+
+
+_II.--A Conversation with a Dead Man_
+
+
+Just a week afterwards, Count Larinski had a very serious conversation
+with his partner, Samuel Brohl. The strange thing about the conversation
+was that there was only one man in the room, and he talked all the time
+to himself. Sometimes he spoke in German with lapses into Yiddish, and
+any one would then have said that he was Samuel Brohl, a notorious
+Jewish adventurer. Then, recovering himself, he talked in Polish, and he
+might have been mistaken for a Polish gentleman. He seemed to be a man
+who was trying to study a difficult matter from two different points of
+view, and he undoubtedly had an actor's talent for throwing himself into
+the character of the nobleman he was impersonating.
+
+"Do you see," said Samuel Brohl, "fortune at last smiles upon us. The
+charming girl is ours. I have won her for you, dear Larinski, by the
+means Othello used to charm the imagination and capture the heart of
+Desdemona. Do you not remember, my dear Count, the tales you used to
+tell us, when we were living together in a garret in Bucharest? How you
+fought in the streets of Warsaw against the Cossacks? How they tracked
+you through the snow-covered forest by the trail of blood you left
+behind you? Oh, I recollected it all, and I flatter myself that I
+related it with just that proud, sombre, subdued melancholy with which
+you used to speak of your sufferings."
+
+"Do you think that she has really fallen in love with me?" asked Count
+Larinski. "I am afraid of her father. In spite of all that I have done
+for that famous man of science, he does not seem to fancy me as a
+son-in-law. Do you imagine it is merely because of my poverty? Or does
+he find anything wrong with me?"
+
+This last question profoundly disturbed the soul of Samuel Brohl. What!
+were all the skilful intrigues which he had spent four years in weaving,
+to come to nothing? For it was now four years since Samuel Brohl had
+entered into his strange partnership with the Polish nobleman. Brohl
+himself was the son of a Jewish tavern-keeper in Gallicia. A great
+Russian lady, Princess Gulof, attracted by his handsome presence, and
+strange green eyes, had engaged him as her secretary and educated him.
+He had repaid her by robbing her of her jewels and running off with them
+to Bucharest. There he had met Count Larinski, who, for more honourable
+motives, was also hiding from the Russian secret police. By representing
+himself as a persecuted anarchist, Brohl completely won the confidence
+of large-hearted, chivalrous Polish patriot.
+
+"Ah, it was a lucky chance that brought us together!" said Samuel Brohl.
+"If you had not met me, you would have been dead, four years ago, and
+clean forgotten. Do you remember your last instructions? After giving me
+every bit of money you had--a little over two thousand florins, wasn't
+it?--you showed me a box containing your family jewels, your letters,
+your diary, your papers, and you said to me: 'Destroy everything it
+contains. Poland is dead. Let my name die too!'
+
+"But, my dear Count," continued Samuel Brohl, "how could I let a man of
+your heroic worth and romantic character be forgotten by the world? No,
+it was Samuel Brohl who died and was buried in an unknown grave. I have
+the certificate of his death. Count Abel Larinski still lives. It is
+true that he is so changed by all his sufferings that his oldest friends
+would never recognise him. His hair used to be black, it is now brown;
+his blue eyes have become golden green; moreover he has grown
+considerably taller. But what does it matter? He is still a handsome
+man, with a noble air and charming manner."
+
+"Very well," said Count Larinski. "I must take the risk of meeting in
+Paris anyone who used to know me before my transformation. I will pack
+up and depart."
+
+It was indeed a terrible ordeal which he had to face. By a strange irony
+of fate, all his skilfully conceived plans were imperilled at the very
+moment when his success seemed absolutely certain. As he had foreseen,
+M. Moriaz was not at first inclined to consent to the marriage; but
+Antoinette soon won her father over, and when Count Larinski called at
+their charming villa at Cormeilles, on the outskirts of Paris, he had as
+warm a welcome as the most ardent of suitors could desire.
+
+"We must introduce you, my dear Count, to all our friends," said M.
+Moriaz. "We are giving a party to-morrow evening for the purpose. Of
+course you will be able to attend?"
+
+"Naturally," said Larinski, "I am looking forward with the greatest
+eagerness to making the acquaintance of all Antoinette's friends. The
+only thing I regret is that none of my old comrades in the great
+struggle against Russia can be at my side at the happiest moment of my
+life. Alas! many are working in fetters in the mines of Siberia, and the
+rest are scattered over the face of the globe."
+
+
+_III.--Samuel Brohl Comes to Life_
+
+
+But, though none of Count Larinski's friends was able to appear at
+Cormeilles, one of Samuel Brohl's old acquaintances came to the party.
+
+On entering the drawing-room, he saw an old, ugly, sharp-faced woman,
+talking in a corner with Camille Langis. It was Princess Gulof. It
+seemed to him as if the four walls of the room were rocking to and fro,
+and that the floor was slipping from under his feet like the deck of a
+ship in a wild storm. By a great effort of will, he recovered himself.
+
+"Never mind, Samuel Brohl," he said to himself. "Let us see the game
+through. After all she is very shortsighted, and you may have changed in
+the last four years."
+
+Antoinette presented him to the Princess, who examined him with her
+little, blinking eyes, and smiled on him kindly and calmly.
+
+"What luck! What amazing luck!" he thought. "She is now as blind as an
+owl. If only I can escape from talking to her, I'm safe."
+
+Unfortunately, Antoinette asked him to take the Princess in to dinner.
+He offered her his arm, and led her to the table, in absolute silence.
+She, too, did not speak; but when they sat down, she began to talk gaily
+to the priest of the parish, who was sitting on her right. Her sight was
+so bad that she had to bend over her wineglasses to find the one she
+wanted. Seeing this, Samuel Brohl recovered his self-confidence.
+
+"She can't have recognised me," he thought; "my voice, my accent, my
+bearing, everything has changed. Poland has entered into my blood. I am
+no longer Samuel, I am Larinski."
+
+Boldly entering into the general conversation, he related with a
+melancholy grace a story of the Polish insurrection, shaking his
+lion-like mane of hair, and speaking with tears in his voice. It was
+impossible to be more of a Larinski than he was at that moment. When he
+finished, a murmur of admiration ran round the table.
+
+"Although we are mortal enemies, Count," said the Princess Gulof, "allow
+me to congratulate you. I hear you have won the hand of Mlle. Moriaz."
+
+"Mortal enemies?" he said, in a low, troubled voice. "Why are we mortal
+enemies; my dear Princess?"
+
+"Because I am a Russian and you are a Pole," she replied. "But we shall
+not have time to quarrel. I am leaving for London at seven o'clock
+to-morrow morning. What is the date of your wedding?"
+
+"If I dared hope that you would do me the honour to attend it," he said,
+skilfully evading answering her question, "I might put it off until your
+return from England."
+
+"You are too kind," said the Princess. "I would not think of delaying
+the happy event to which Mile. Moriaz so eagerly looks forward. What a
+beautiful girl she is! I dare not ask you what is her fortune. You are,
+I can see, an idealist. You do not trouble yourself with matters of
+money. But oh, you poor idealists," she whispered, leaning over him with
+a friendly air, "you always come to grief in the end!"
+
+"How is that?" he said with a smile.
+
+"You dream with your eyes open, my dear Count Larinski, and your
+awakening is sometimes sudden and unpleasant."
+
+Then, advancing her head towards her companion, her little eyes flaming
+like a viper's, she whispered: "Samuel Brohl, I knew you all along. Your
+dream has come to an end."
+
+A cold sweat broke out on the forehead of the adventurer. Leaning over
+the Princess, his face convulsed with hatred, he murmured:
+
+"Samuel Brohl is not the sort of man to put up with an injury. Some
+years ago, he received two letters from you. If ever he is attacked, he
+will publish them."
+
+Rising up, he made her a low bow, and took leave of Mlle. Moriaz and her
+father, and left the house. At first, he was utterly downcast, and
+inclined to give up the game; but as he tramped back to Paris in the
+moonlight, his courage returned. He had two letters which the Princess
+had written to him when she was engaged in Paris on a political mission
+of great importance, and they contained some amazing indiscretions in
+regard to the private lives of several august personages.
+
+"No," he said to himself, "she will think twice before she interferes in
+my affairs. I can ruin her as easily as she can ruin me."
+
+As a matter of fact, Princess Gulof was unable to sleep all that night.
+She was torn between the desire for vengeance and the fear of reprisals.
+
+
+_IV.--The Partnership is Dissolved_
+
+
+The next morning, after breakfast, Mlle. Moriaz was surprised to receive
+a visit from Princess Gulof.
+
+"I have come to see you about your marriage," said the Princess.
+
+"You are very kind," replied Mlle. Moriaz, "but I do not understand...."
+
+"You will understand in a minute," said the Princess. "There's a story I
+want to tell you, and I think you will find it interesting. Fourteen
+years ago I was passing through a village in Gallicia, and the bad
+weather forced me to put up at a dirty inn kept by a Jew called Brohl.
+This Jew had a son, Samuel, a youngster with strange green eyes and a
+handsome figure. Finding that he was an intelligent lad, I paid for him
+to study at the University, and later on, I kept him as my private
+secretary. But about four years ago Samuel Brohl ran off with all my
+jewellery."
+
+"You were indeed badly rewarded for your kindness, Madame." interrupted
+Antoinette; "but I do not see what Samuel Brohl has to do with my
+marriage."
+
+"I was going to tell you," said the Princess. "I had the pleasure of
+meeting him here last night. He has got on since I lost sight of him. He
+is not content with changing from a Jew into a Pole; he is now a great
+nobleman. He calls himself Count Abel Larinski, and he is engaged to be
+married to Mlle. Moriaz. She is now wearing a Persian bracelet he stole
+from me."
+
+"Madame," cried Antoinette, her cheeks flushing with anger, "will you
+dare to tell Count Larinski, in my presence, that he is this Samuel
+Brohl you speak of?"
+
+"I have no desire to do so," said the Princess. "Indeed, I want you to
+promise me never to tell him that it was I who showed him up. Wait! I
+have thought of something. The middle plate of my Persian bracelet used
+to open with a secret spring. Open yours and if you find my name there,
+well, you will know where it came from."
+
+"Unless you are willing to repeat in the presence of myself and Count
+Larinski all that you have just said," exclaimed Antoinette haughtily,
+"there is only one thing I can promise you. I shall certainly never
+relate to the man to whom I have the honour to be betrothed, a single
+word of the silly, wicked slanders that you have uttered."
+
+Princess Gulof rose up brusquely, and stood for a while looking at
+Antoinette in silence.
+
+"So, you do not believe me," she said in an ironic tone, blinking her
+little eyes. "You are right. Old women, you know, seldom talk sense.
+Samuel Brohl never existed, and I had the pleasure of dining last night
+with the most authentic of all the Larinskis. Pardon me, and accept my
+best wishes for the life-long happiness of the Count and Countess."
+
+Thereupon she made a mocking curtsey, and turned on her heels and
+disappeared.
+
+"The woman is absolutely mad," said Antoinette. "Abel will be here in a
+few minutes, and he will tell me what is the matter with her. I supposed
+they quarrelled last night about Poland. Oh dear, what funny old women
+there are in the world!"
+
+As she was waiting for her lover to appear, Camille Langis came to the
+house. Naturally, she was not desirous of talking with her rejected
+suitor at that moment, and she gave him a rather frigid welcome.
+
+"I see you don't want me," said Camille sadly, turning away.
+
+"Of course I want you," she said, touched by the feeling he showed. "You
+are my oldest and dearest friend."
+
+For a few minutes, they sat talking together, and Camille noticed the
+strange bracelet on her wrist, and praised its curious design.
+Antoinette, struck by a sudden idea, took off the Persian ornament, and
+gave it to Camille, saying:
+
+"One of these plates, I believe, opens by a secret spring. You are an
+engineer, can you find this spring for me?"
+
+"The middle plate is hollow," said Langis, tapping it with a pen-knife,
+"the other two are solid gold. Oh, what a clumsy fool I am! I have
+broken it open."
+
+"Is there any writing?" said Antoinette. "Let me look."
+
+Yes, there was a long list of dates, and at the end of the dates were
+written: "Nothing, nothing, nothing, that is all. Anna Gulof."
+
+Antoinette became deathly pale; something seemed to break in her head;
+she felt that if she did not speak, her mind would give way. Yes, she
+could trust Camille, but how should she begin? She felt that she was
+stifling, and could not draw in enough air to keep breathing.
+
+"What is the matter with you, dear Antoinette?" said Camille, alarmed by
+her pallor and her staring eyes.
+
+She began to speak in a low, confused and broken voice, and Camille at
+first could not understand what she was saying. But at last he did so,
+and his soul was then divided between an immense pity for the grief that
+overwhelmed her, and a ferocious joy at the thought of the utter rout of
+his successful rival. Suddenly a step was heard on the garden path.
+
+"Here he is," said Antoinette. "No, stay in here. I will call you if I
+want you. In spite of all I have said I shall never believe that he has
+deceived me unless I read the lie in his very eyes."
+
+Instead of waiting for the visitor to be shown into her room, she ran
+out, and met him in the garden. He came up to her smiling, thinking that
+with the departure of Princess Gulof, all danger had vanished. But when
+he saw the white face and burning eyes of Antoinette, he guessed that
+she knew everything. He determined, however, to try and carry it off by
+sheer audacity.
+
+"I am sorry I left so early last evening," he said, "but that mad
+Russian woman, whom I took into dinner, made me almost as crazy as she
+was herself. She ought to be in an asylum. But the night repaid me for
+all the worries of the evening. I dreamt of the Engadine, its emerald
+lakes, its pine-trees, and its edelweiss."
+
+"I, too, had a dream last night," said Antoinette slowly. "I dreamt that
+this bracelet which you gave me belonged to the mad Russian woman, and
+that she had engraved her name inside it." She threw the bracelet at
+him. He picked it up, and turned it round and round in his trembling
+fingers, looking at the plate which had been forced open.
+
+"Can you tell me what I ought to think of Samuel Brohl?" she asked.
+
+The name fell on him like a mass of lead; he reeled under the blow;
+then, striking his head with his two fists, he answered:
+
+"Samuel Brohl is a man worthy of your pity. If you only knew all that he
+has suffered, all he has dared to do, you could not help pitying him,
+yes, and admiring him. Samuel Brohl is an unfortunate ..."
+
+"Scoundrel," she said in a terrible voice. "Madame Brohl!"--she began to
+laugh hysterically--"Madame Brohl! No, I can't become Madame Brohl. Ah!
+that poor Countess Larinski."
+
+"You did not love the man," he said bitterly; "only the Count."
+
+"The man I loved did not tell lies," she replied.
+
+"Yes, I lied to you," he said, panting like a hunted animal, "and I take
+all the shame of it gladly. I lied because I loved you to madness; and I
+lied because you are dearer to me than honour; I lied because I
+despaired of touching your heart, and I did not care by what means I won
+you. Why did I ever meet you? Why couldn't I have passed you by, without
+you becoming the dream of my whole life? I have lied. Who would not lie
+to be loved by you?"
+
+Never had Samuel Brohl appeared so beautiful. Despair and passion
+lighted up his strange green eyes with a sombre flame. He had the
+sinister charm of a fallen archangel, and he fixed on Antoinette a wild,
+fascinating glance, that said:
+
+"What do my name, my deceptions and the rest, matter to you? My face at
+least is not a mask, and the man who moved you, the man who won you, was
+I."
+
+Mlle. Moriaz, however, divined the thought in the eyes of Samuel Brohl.
+
+"You are a good actor," she said between her teeth. "But it is time that
+this comedy came to an end."
+
+He threw himself on the grass at her feet, and then sprang up, and tried
+to clasp her in his arms.
+
+"Camille! Camille!" she cried, "save me from this man."
+
+Langis darted out after Brohl, and the Jew took to his heels. Langis
+would have followed him as gladly as a hound follows a fox, but he saw
+Antoinette's strength had given way, and running up to her, he caught
+her in his arms as she reeled, and tenderly carried her into the house.
+That evening, Count Abel Larinski disappeared from the world. Samuel
+Brohl rose up from his grave at Bucharest, and took the name of Kicks,
+and emigrated to America some time before the marriage of Mlle. Moriaz
+to M. Camille Langis was announced in the "Figaro."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+WILKIE COLLINS
+
+
+No Name
+
+      William Wilkie Collins was born in London on January 8, 1824.
+     From the age of eight to fifteen he resided with his parents
+     in Italy, and on their return to England young Collins was
+     apprenticed to a firm of tea-merchants, abandoning that
+     business four years later for the law. This profession also
+     failed to appeal to him, although what he learned in it proved
+     extremely useful to him in his literary career. His first
+     published book was a "Life" of his father, William Collins,
+     R.A., in 1847. The success of the work gave him an incentive
+     towards writing, and three years later he published an
+     historical romance, "Antonina, or The Fall of Rome." About
+     this time he made the acquaintance of Charles Dickens, who was
+     then editor of "Household Words," to which periodical he
+     contributed some of his most successful fiction. "No Name,"
+     published in 1862, depended less upon dramatic situations and
+     more upon analysis of character and the solution of a problem.
+     That he was successful in his purpose is chiefly evidenced by
+     the wide popularity the story received on its appearance. "The
+     main object of the story," he wrote in the introduction to the
+     first edition, "is to appeal to the reader's interest in a
+     subject which has been the theme of some of the greatest
+     writers, living and dead, but which has never been, and can
+     never be, exhausted, because it is a subject eternally
+     interesting to all mankind. A book that depicts the struggle
+     of a human creature under those opposing influences of Good
+     and Evil which we have all felt, which we have all known."
+     Like others of Collins' stories, "No Name" was successfully
+     presented on the stage. Wilkie Collins died on September 23,
+     1889.
+
+
+_I.--Nobody's Children_
+
+
+A letter from America, bearing a New Orleans stamp, had an extraordinary
+effect on the spirits of the Vanstone family as they sat round the
+breakfast table at Coome-Raven, in West Somersetshire.
+
+"An American letter, papa!" exclaimed Magdalen, the youngest daughter,
+looking over her father's shoulder. "Who do you know at New Orleans?"
+
+Mrs. Vanstone, sitting propped up with cushions at the other end of the
+table, started and looked eagerly at her husband. Mr. Vanstone said
+nothing, but his air of preoccupation and his unusual seriousness, which
+not even Magdalen's playfulness affected, proved clearly that something
+was wrong. The mystery of the letter puzzled both Magdalen and her elder
+sister Norah, and in particular aroused a feeling of uneasiness,
+impossible to explain, in the mind of the old family friend and
+governess, Miss Garth.
+
+Though neither Mr. nor Mrs. Vanstone offered any explanation, Miss Garth
+felt more than ever certain that something unusual had occurred, when,
+on the following day, they announced their intention of going to London
+on private business. For nearly a month they stayed away, and at the end
+of that period returned without offering any account of what they had
+done on their mysterious visit.
+
+Life at Coome-Raven went on as usual in a round of pleasant
+distractions. Concerts, dances, and private theatricals, in which
+Magdalen cut a great figure, winning even the praise of the professional
+manager, who begged her to call on him if ever she should require a real
+engagement, passed the weeks rapidly by.
+
+To Magdalen also, the return of Frank Clare, the son of a very old
+friend of Mr. Vanstone's, provided an interesting interlude. As his
+father put it, "Frank had turned up at home again like a bad penny, and
+was now lurking after the manner of louts." Though Mr. Clare's estimate
+of his son was frankly truthful, Magdalen loved him with all the
+passionate warmth of her nature, and when Frank, in order to escape
+being sent to a business appointment in China, proposed marriage to her,
+she accepted him joyfully. She urged her father to consent to their
+immediate union.
+
+"I must consult Frank's father, of course," he said, in conclusion. "We
+must not forget that Mr. Clare's consent is still wanting to settle this
+matter. And as we don't know what difficulties he may raise, the sooner
+I see him the better."
+
+In a state of obvious dejection, he walked over to the house which Mr.
+Clare occupied. When, after some hours, he returned once more to
+Coome-Raven, he informed his daughter that Frank was to have another
+year's trial in London. If he proved himself capable, he should be
+rewarded at the end of that time with Magdalen's hand.
+
+Both the girl and Frank were delighted, but Mr. Vanstone did not reflect
+their good spirits. He wired to his lawyer, Mr. Pendril, to come down
+from town at once to Coome-Raven. So anxious was he to see his lawyer
+that he drove over to the local station and took the train to the
+neighbouring junction where Mr. Pendril would have to change.
+
+Hours went by, and he did not return. As the evening closed down a
+message was brought to Miss Garth that a man wished to speak to her. She
+hurried out, and found herself face to face with a porter from the
+junction, who explained that there had been an accident to the down
+train at 1.50.
+
+"God help us!" exclaimed the governess. "The train Mr. Vanstone
+travelled by?"
+
+"The same. There are seven passengers badly hurt, and two------"
+
+The next word failed on his lips; he raised his hand in the dead
+silence. With eyes that opened wide in horror he pointed over Miss
+Garth's shoulder. She turned to see her mistress standing on the
+threshold with staring, vacant eyes. With a dreadful stillness in her
+voice, she repeated the man's last words, "Seven passengers badly hurt,
+and two------"
+
+Then she sank swooning into Miss Garth's arms.
+
+From the shock of her husband's death, Mrs. Vanstone never recovered.
+
+Heartbroken by the death of their parents, Norah and Magdalen had yet to
+learn the full extent of the tragedy. That was first made clear to Miss
+Garth by the lawyer.
+
+Mr. Andrew Vanstone in his youth had joined the army and gone to Canada.
+There he had been entrapped by a woman, whom he had married--a woman so
+utterly vile and unprincipled that he was forced to leave her and return
+to England. Shortly afterwards his father died, and, having been
+estranged from his elder son, Michael Vanstone, bequeathed all his
+property to Andrew.
+
+Andrew Vanstone passed his life in a round of vicious pleasures, but as
+his better nature had almost been destroyed by a woman, so now it was
+retrieved by a woman. He fell in love, told the girl of his heart the
+truth about himself, and she, out of the love she bore him, determined
+to pass the rest of her life by his side, and Norah and Magdalen were
+the children of their union.
+
+"Tell me," said Miss Garth, in a voice faint with emotion, as the lawyer
+laid bare the sad story, "why did they go to London?"
+
+"They went to London to be married," cried Mr. Pendril.
+
+In the letter from New Orleans, Mr. Vanstone had heard of the death of
+his wife, and he had at once taken the necessary steps to make the woman
+who had so long been his wife in the eyes of God his wife in the eyes of
+the law. The story would never have been known had it not been for
+Frank's engagement to Magdalen. The soul of honour, Mr. Vanstone thought
+it his duty to inform Mr. Clare fully regarding his relations with Mrs.
+Vanstone. His old friend proved himself deeply sympathetic, and then,
+being a cautious man of business, inquired what steps Mr. Vanstone had
+taken to provide for his daughters. The master of Coombe-Raven replied
+that he had long ago made a will leaving them all he possessed. When Mr.
+Clare pointed out that his recent marriage automatically destroyed the
+effect of this testament, he was greatly distressed, and, hastening
+home, had at once telegraphed to Mr. Pendril to come to Coome-Raven to
+draw up another will without any loss of time. His tragic death had
+prevented the execution of this plan, and the inability of Mrs. Vanstone
+to sign any document before she died had resulted in Norah and Magdalen
+being left absolutely penniless, and the estates passing to Michael
+Vanstone.
+
+"How am I to tell them?" exclaimed Miss Garth.
+
+"There is no need to tell them," said a voice behind her. "They know it
+already. Mr. Vanstone's daughters are 'nobody's children,' and the law
+leaves them helpless at their uncle's mercy!"
+
+It was Magdalen who spoke--Magdalen, with a changeless stillness on her
+white face, and an icy resignation in her steady, grey eyes. From under
+the open window of the room in which Mr. Pendril had told his story this
+girl of eighteen had heard every word, and never once betrayed herself.
+
+"I understand that my late brother"--so ran Michael Vanstone's letter of
+instruction to his solicitor--"has left two illegitimate children, both
+of them young women who are of an age to earn their own livelihood. Be
+so good as to tell them that neither you nor I have anything to do with
+questions of mere sentiment. Let them understand that Providence has
+restored to me the inheritance that ought always to have been mine, and
+I will not invite retribution on my own head by assisting those children
+to continue the imposition which their parents practised, and by helping
+them to take a place in the world to which they are not entitled."
+
+"Norah," said Magdalen, turning to her sister, "if we both live to grow
+old, and if ever you forget all we owe to Michael Vanstone--come to me,
+and I will remind you."
+
+
+_II.--Tricked into Marriage_
+
+
+By fair means or foul, Magdalen, who, with Norah, had now made her home
+with Miss Garth in London, had sworn to herself that she would win back
+the property of which she had been robbed by Michael Vanstone. Selling
+all her jewellery and dresses, she managed to secure two hundred pounds,
+and with this sum in her pocket she secretly left home. The theatrical
+manager, who had offered her an engagement should she ever require it,
+had moved to York, and it was to that city that Magdalen hastened.
+
+Her absence was at once discovered, and Miss Garth resorted to every
+possible means of tracing her to her destination. A reward of fifty
+pounds was offered, and her mode of procedure being suspected, handbills
+setting forth her appearance were posted in York. It was one of these
+bills that attracted the attention of a certain Captain Wragge.
+
+Captain Wragge was the stepson of Mrs. Vanstone's mother, and had
+persisted in regarding himself as a member of her family, and, having
+known of the real relationship that existed between his half-sister and
+Mr. Andrew Vanstone, had obtained from the latter a small annual subsidy
+as the price of his silence. A confessed rogue, the captain imagined he
+saw in this handbill an opportunity of re-stocking his exhausted
+exchequer.
+
+As he wandered on the walls of York, pondering how he should act, he met
+Magdalen herself, and at once greeted her as a relative. The girl would
+have avoided him, but on his pointing out that unless she placed herself
+under his protection she was bound to be discovered and taken back to
+her friends, she consented to accompany him to his lodgings. There he
+introduced her to his wife, a tall, gaunt woman with a large,
+good-natured, vacant face, who lived in a state of bemused terror of her
+husband, who bullied and dragooned her according to his mood.
+
+After listening to the frank exposition of his character and his method
+of living, Magdalen decided to accept Captain Wragge's assistance. On
+certain terms, Wragge agreed to train her for the stage and secure her
+engagements, taking a half share of any money she might earn. In return
+for these profits, he agreed to carry out certain inquiries whenever she
+might think it necessary. As to the nature of these inquiries, she, for
+the time being, preserved silence.
+
+Magdalen's talent for acting proved highly successful, and under the
+direction of the captain she began rapidly to make a reputation for
+herself, and at the end of six months she had saved between six and
+seven hundred pounds. She now decided that it was time to put her plan
+of retribution into execution.
+
+At her instructions, Captain Wragge had discovered that Michael Vanstone
+was dead and that his son, Noel Vanstone, had succeeded to the property,
+and was now living with his father's old housekeeper, a certain Swiss
+lady, the widow of a professor of science, by name Mrs. Lecount, in
+Vauxhall Walk, Lambeth. The remaining information that Wragge obtained
+regarding the Vanstones was to the effect that the deceased Michael had
+a great friend in Admiral Bartram, whose nephew George was the son of
+Mr. Andrew Vanstone's sister, and therefore the cousin of Noel Vanstone.
+Having this information, Magdalen calmly informed Wragge that their
+alliance, for the moment, was at an end, and taking Mrs. Wragge with
+her, journeyed to London. There she obtained rooms directly opposite the
+house occupied by Noel Vanstone. Disguising herself as Miss Garth and
+assuming her old governess's voice and manner, she boldly visited the
+house. She found Noel Vanstone a weak, avaricious coward, who was
+already terrified by the letters she had written him demanding the
+restitution of her fortune. He was completely at the mercy of Mrs.
+Lecount.
+
+Something about the supposed Miss Garth excited the suspicion of Mrs.
+Lecount, and she deliberately set about to try and make her visitor
+betray what she was convinced she was concealing.
+
+"I would suggest," said Mrs. Lecount, "that you give a hundred pounds to
+each of these unfortunate sisters."
+
+"He will repent the insult to the last hour of his life," said Magdalen.
+
+The instant that answer passed her lips, she would have given worlds to
+recall it. Her passionate words had been uttered in her own voice. Mrs.
+Lecount detected the change, and, with a view to establishing some proof
+of the identity of her visitor, she secured, by a subterfuge, a thin
+strip of the old-fashioned skirt which Magdalen was wearing in the
+character of Miss Garth.
+
+Foiled in her appeal to Noel Vanstone, Magdalen determined to put in
+train the plot she had long proposed to herself. She set out
+deliberately to win the property of which she and her sister had been
+despoiled, by winning the hand of Noel Vanstone. A letter from Frank
+Clare had released her from her engagement, and with a bitter heart she
+went down to Aldborough, in Suffolk, whither Noel Vanstone had removed
+for his health.
+
+In the character of the niece of Mr. Bygrave, which role Captain Wragge
+adopted, she laid siege to the selfish affections of Noel Vanstone. Her
+task proved ridiculously easy. Noel fell hopelessly in love with her,
+and before many days were out proposed marriage. So far, everything had
+worked smoothly, but at this point Mrs. Lecount's fears were aroused.
+She determined to prevent the marriage at all costs, and used every
+possible means to dissuade her master from having anything more to do
+with the Bygraves, and the whole plot must have fallen to the ground had
+it not been for the persistence and skilful diplomacy displayed by
+Captain Wragge.
+
+He arranged that Noel should visit Admiral Bartram, leaving Mrs. Lecount
+behind to pack up. From Admiral Bartram's he was to proceed to London,
+where he would be duly united to Magdalen. In order to secure the
+non-interference of Mrs. Lecount, the captain sent her a forged letter,
+summoning her at once to the death-bed of her brother at Zurich. But
+Mrs. Lecount was not so easily disposed of as Captain Wragge had
+imagined.
+
+As soon as her master departed for Admiral Bartram's she took the
+opportunity, when both Magdalen and the captain were out, to visit their
+house. Readily persuading the simple-minded Mrs. Wragge, who had a
+passion for clothes, to show her Magdalen's wardrobe, she discovered
+there the skirt from which she had cut a piece on the occasion of the
+girl's visit in the character of Miss Garth.
+
+She was detected by Captain Wragge leaving the house, but, careless of
+what the latter might think, she returned home in triumph. There she
+found the letter summoning her to Zurich. There was no time to be lost;
+she had to go. But before she set out she wrote a letter to Noel
+Vanstone, disclosing the whole facts of the conspiracy.
+
+Captain Wragge, positive in his own mind that Mrs. Lecount had
+discovered everything, would have consulted Magdalen, but the girl was
+in a condition which prevented her from taking any active part in the
+affair. She wandered about Aldborough with a settled despair written
+clearly on the beautiful features of her face. Her woe-begone appearance
+attracted the attention of a certain Captain Kirke, and he carried away
+with him on his ship the indelible memory of her beauty.
+
+Captain Wragge had to depend solely on his own exertions. Waiting till
+the housekeeper had left Aldborough, he discovered, by inquiries at the
+post-office, that Mrs. Lecount had written to Noel Vanstone. That letter
+must be stopped at all costs, and the captain acted boldly. The day was
+Saturday. Obtaining a special licence, he hurried off to Admiral
+Bartram's, before Mrs. Lecount's letter was delivered, and induced Noel
+Vanstone to accompany him to London. At the same time he left behind him
+several envelopes, addressed to "Captain Wragge," under cover of which
+Admiral Bartram was to forward all correspondence which might arrive
+after his departure. By this means, Mrs. Lecount's letter was prevented
+from coming into the hands of her master, and two days later Magdalen
+duly became the wife of Noel Vanstone.
+
+Twelve weeks later, Noel Vanstone walked moodily about the garden of a
+cottage he had taken in the Highlands. That morning Magdalen, without
+even asking his permission, had set out for London to see her sister,
+and her husband, his health greatly enfeebled, was left alone, weak and
+miserable. He had a habit of mourning over himself, and as he rested,
+looking over a fence, he sighed bitterly.
+
+"You were happier with me," said a voice at his side.
+
+He turned with a scream to see Mrs. Lecount. She told him how his wife
+was Magdalen Vanstone, how she had married him simply from a desire to
+recover the fortune of which she had been robbed by Michael Vanstone,
+also suggesting that Magdalen intended to attempt his life.
+
+Shivering with terror, Noel Vanstone became like wax in Mrs. Lecount's
+hands. He at once agreed to draw up a new will at her dictation,
+completely cutting off his wife. He bequeathed Mrs. Lecount £5,000, and
+declared that he wished to leave the remainder to his cousin, George
+Bartram. Such an arrangement, however, Mrs. Lecount foresaw, might be
+fraught with those very dangers which she wished to avoid. George
+Bartram was young and susceptible. It was conceivable that Magdalen,
+robbed of the stake for which she had so boldly played, might, on her
+husband's death, attempt to secure the prize by luring George Bartram
+into a marriage. At the instigation of his housekeeper, Noel Vanstone
+therefore bequeathed the residue of his estate absolutely to Admiral
+Bartram. But this will was coupled with a letter addressed to the
+admiral, secretly entrusting him to make the estate over to George under
+certain circumstances. He was to be married to, or to marry within six
+months, a woman who was not a widow. In the event of his not complying
+with these conditions, which would prevent his marriage with Magdalen,
+the money was to go to his married sister.
+
+Having outwitted Magdalen, Mrs. Lecount's next object was to remove Noel
+Vanstone down to London. In order that he might be strong enough to
+travel, Mrs. Lecount prepared a favourite posset for him. Returning with
+the fragrant mixture, she noticed him sitting at a table, his head
+resting on his hand, apparently asleep.
+
+"Your drink, Mr. Noel," she said, touching him. He took no notice. She
+looked at him closer Noel Vanstone was dead.
+
+
+_III.--The Darkest Hour_
+
+
+In pursuance of her determination to discover the secret trust, Magdalen
+secured a position as parlourmaid in Admiral Bartram's house. For days
+she waited for an opportunity of examining the admiral's papers. At
+night the admiral, who was addicted to sleep-walking, was guarded by a
+drunken old sea-dog, called Mazey, and in the daytime she could do
+nothing without being detected.
+
+The secret trust lay heavily on the admiral's mind, and it became the
+more unbearable when George Bartram came down and announced his
+intention of marrying Norah Vanstone. George's married sister was dead,
+and thus one of the two objects contemplated by the secret trust had
+failed, and only a fortnight remained before the expiry of six months in
+which George Bartram had to marry in order to inherit the fortune. The
+admiral objected to the marriage with Norah Vanstone, but was at a loss
+how to dissuade George from the match.
+
+While this problem was occupying the admiral's attention, Magdalen at
+last found the chance of examining her master's private apartments.
+Mazey, under the influence of drink, had deserted his post, and, with a
+basket of keys in her hands, Magdalen crept into the room where the
+admiral kept his papers. Drawer after drawer she opened, but nowhere
+could she find the secret trust.
+
+Suddenly she heard a footstep, and turning round quickly, she saw coming
+towards her, in the moonlight, the figure of Admiral Bartram. Transfixed
+with terror, she watched him coming nearer and nearer. He did not seem
+to see her, and as he almost brushed past her she heard him exclaim:
+"Noel, I don't know where it's safe. I don't know where to put it. Take
+it back, Noel."
+
+Magdalen, realising that the admiral was walking in his sleep, followed
+him closely. He went to a drawer in a cabinet and took out a folded
+letter, and putting it down before him on the table, repeated
+mechanically, "Take it back, Noel--take it back!"
+
+Looking over his shoulder, Magdalen saw that the paper was the secret
+trust. She watched the admiral replace it in another cabinet, and then
+walk back silently to his bed. In another moment she had taken
+possession of the letter, when a hand was suddenly laid on her wrist,
+and the voice of old Mazey exclaimed, "Drop it, Jezebel--drop it!"
+
+Dragging her away, old Mazey locked her in her room for the night; but
+early the following morning relented, and allowed her to leave the
+house.
+
+Three weeks later Admiral Bartram died, and though Magdalen instructed
+her solicitors to set up the secret trust, and though the house was
+searched from top to bottom, the letter could not be found. In
+consequence, the property passed to George Bartram, who, two months
+later, married Norah Vanstone.
+
+Magdalen gave up the struggle in despair, and not daring to return to
+her people, sunk lower and lower until she reached the depths of
+poverty. At last, in a wretched quarter in the East End, she came to the
+end of her resources. Ill and almost dying, the people from whom she
+rented her one miserable room determined to send her to the workhouse. A
+crowd collected to watch her departure. She was just about to be carried
+to a cab, when a man pushed his way through the crowd and saw her face.
+
+That man was Captain Kirke, who had seen her at Aldborough. He at once
+gave instructions for her to be taken back into the house, paid a sum
+down for her proper treatment, and secured the services of a doctor and
+a nurse. Every day he came to inquire after her, and when at last, after
+weeks of suffering, her strength returned, it was he who brought Norah
+and Miss Garth to her.
+
+After the long separation the two sisters had much to tell one another.
+Norah, who had bowed patiently under her misfortunes, had achieved the
+very object for which Magdalen had schemed in vain. She had obtained,
+through her marriage with George Bartram, the fortune which her father
+had intended for her. Among other things which she related to Magdalen
+was the account of how she had discovered the secret trust simply by
+chance. By the discovery of this document, Magdalen became entitled to
+half her late husband's fortune; for, the secret trust having failed,
+the law had distributed the estate between the deceased's next of
+kin--half to Magdalen and half to George Bartram. Taking the paper from
+her sister's hands, Magdalen tore it into pieces.
+
+"This paper alone gives me the fortune which I obtained by marrying Noel
+Vanstone," she said. "I will owe nothing to my past life. I part with it
+as I part with these torn morsels of paper."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+To Captain Kirke, Magdalen wrote the complete story of all she had done.
+She felt it was due to him that he should know all. She awaited the
+inevitable result--the inevitable separation from the man she had grown
+to love. When he had read it he came to her.
+
+Near to tears, she waited to hear her fate.
+
+"Tell me what you think of me! Tell me the truth!" she said.
+
+"With my own lips?" he asked.
+
+"Yes," she answered. "Say what you think of me with your own lips."
+
+She looked up at him for the first time, and then, he stooped and kissed
+her.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+The Woman in White
+
+      Wilkie Collins' greatest success was achieved on the
+     appearance of "The Woman in White" in 1860, a story described
+     by Thackeray as "thrilling." The book attracted immediate
+     attention, Collins' method of unravelling an intricate plot by
+     a succession of narratives being distinctly novel, and
+     appealing immensely to the reading public.
+
+
+_I.--The Woman Appears_
+
+
+_The story here presented will be told by several pens. Let Walter
+Hartright, teacher of drawing, aged twenty-eight, be heard first_.
+
+I had once saved Professor Pesca from drowning, and in his desire to do
+"a good something for Walter," the warm-hearted little Italian secured
+me the position of art-master at Limmeridge House, Cumberland.
+
+It was the night before my departure to take up my duties as teacher to
+Miss Laura Fairlie and her half-sister, Miss Marian Halcombe, and
+general assistant to Frederick Fairlie, uncle and guardian to Miss
+Fairlie. Having bidden good-bye to my mother and sister at their cottage
+in Hampstead, I decided to walk home to my chambers the longest possible
+way round. In the after-warmth of the hot July day I made my way across
+the darkened Heath. Suddenly I was startled by a hand laid lightly on my
+shoulder. I turned to see the figure of a solitary woman, with a
+colourless youthful face, dressed from head to foot in white garments.
+
+"Is that the road to London?" she said.
+
+Her sudden appearance, her extraordinary dress, and the strained tones
+of her voice so surprised me that I hesitated some moments before
+replying. Her agitation at my silence was distressing, and calming her
+as well as I could, and promising to help her to get a cab, I asked her
+a few questions. Her answers showed that she was suffering from some
+terrible nervous excitement. She asked me if I knew any baronet--any
+from Hampshire--and seemed almost absurdly relieved when I assured her I
+did not. In the course of our conversation, as we walked towards St.
+John's Wood, I discovered a curious circumstance. She knew Limmeridge
+House and the Fairlies!
+
+Having found her a cab, I bade her good-bye. As we parted she suddenly
+seized my hand and kissed it with overwhelming gratitude. Her conveyance
+was hardly out of sight when two men drove past in an open chaise, and
+drawing up in front of a policeman, asked him if he had seen a woman in
+white, promising a reward if he caught her.
+
+"What has she done?" queried the policeman.
+
+"Done!" exclaimed one of the men. "She has escaped from our asylum."
+
+The day following this strange adventure I arrived at Limmeridge House,
+and the next morning made the acquaintance of the household. Marian
+Halcombe and Laura Fairlie, her half-sister, were, in point of
+appearance, the exact reverse of each other. The former was a tall,
+masculine-looking woman, with a masculine capacity for deep friendship.
+The latter was made in a slighter mould, with charming, delicate
+features, set off by a mass of pale-brown hair. Mr. Frederick Fairlie I
+found to be a neurotic, utterly selfish gentleman, who passed his life
+in his own apartments, amusing himself with bullying his valet,
+examining his works of art, and talking of his nerves.
+
+With the other members of the household I soon became on a friendly
+footing. Miss Halcombe, when I told her of my strange adventure on
+Hampstead Heath, turned up her mother's correspondence with her second
+husband, and discovered there a reference to the woman in white, who
+bore a striking resemblance to Miss Fairlie. Her name was Anne
+Catherick. She had stayed for a short time in the neighbourhood with her
+mother, and had been befriended by Mrs. Fairlie.
+
+As the months went by I fell passionately and hopelessly in love with
+Laura Fairlie. No word of love, however, passed between us, but Miss
+Halcombe, realising the situation, broke to me gently the fact that my
+love was hopeless. Almost from childhood Laura had been engaged to Sir
+Percival Clyde, a Hampshire baronet, and her marriage was due to take
+place shortly. I accepted the inevitable and decided to resign my
+position. But before I set out from Limmeridge House, many strange
+things happened.
+
+Shortly before the arrival of Sir Percival Clyde to settle the details
+of his marriage, Laura had an anonymous letter, warning her against the
+union, and concluding with the words, "your mother's daughter has a
+tender place in my heart, for your mother was my first, my best, my only
+friend." Two days after the receipt of this letter I came upon Anne
+Catherick, busily tending the grave of Mrs. Fairlie. With difficulty I
+persuaded her to tell me something of her story. That she had been
+locked up in an asylum--unjustly, it was clear--I already knew. She
+confessed to having written the letter to Laura, but when I mentioned
+the name of Sir Percival Glyde, she shrieked aloud with terror. It was
+obvious that it was the baronet who had placed her under restraint.
+
+The Fairlies' family solicitor, Mr. Gilmore, arriving next day, the
+whole matter was placed before him. He decided to send the anonymous
+letter to Sir Percival Glyde's solicitors and to ask for an explanation.
+Before any reply was received, I had left Limmeridge House, bidding
+farewell to the place where I had spent so many happy hours, and to the
+girl I loved.
+
+
+_II.--The Story Continued by Vincent Gilmore, of Chancery Lane,
+Solicitor to the Fairlies_
+
+
+I write these lines at the request of my friend, Mr. Walter Hartright,
+to describe the events which took place after his departure from
+Limmeridge House.
+
+My letter to Sir Percival Glyde's solicitors regarding Anne Catherick's
+anonymous communication was answered by the baronet in person on his
+arrival at Limmeridge House. He was the first to offer an explanation.
+Anne Catherick was the daughter of one of his old family servants, and
+in consideration of her mother's past services he had sent her to a
+private asylum instead of allowing her to go to one of the public
+establishments where her mental condition would otherwise have compelled
+her to remain. Her animus against Sir Percival was due to the fact that
+she had discovered that he was the cause of her incarceration. The
+anonymous letter was evidence of this insane antipathy.
+
+My next concern with this history deals with the drawing up of Miss
+Fairlie's marriage settlement. Besides being heiress to the Limmeridge
+property, Miss Fairlie had personal estate to the value of £20,000,
+derived under the will of her father, Philip Fairlie. To this she became
+entitled on completing her twenty-first year. She had a life interest,
+moreover, in £10,000, which on her death passed to her father's sister
+Eleanor, the wife of Count Fosco, an Italian nobleman. In all human
+probability the Countess Fosco would never enjoy this money, for she was
+well advanced in age, while Laura was not yet twenty-one.
+
+Regarding the £20,000, the proper and fair course was that the whole
+amount should be settled so as to give the income to the lady for her
+life, afterwards to Sir Percival for his life, and the principal to the
+children of the marriage. In default of issue, the principal was to be
+disposed of as the lady might by her will direct, thus enabling her to
+make provision for her half-sister, Marian Halcombe. This was the fair
+and proper settlement, but Sir Percival's solicitors insisted that the
+principal should go to Sir Percival Glyde in the event of his surviving
+Lady Glyde and there being no issue. I protested in vain, and this
+iniquitous settlement, which placed every farthing of the £20,000 in Sir
+Percival's pocket, and prevented Miss Fairlie providing for Miss
+Halcombe, was duly signed.
+
+
+_III.--The Story Continued by Marian Halcombe in a Series of Extracts
+from Her Diary_
+
+
+_Limmeridge House, November 9_. I have secured for poor Walter Hartright
+a position as draughtsman on an expedition which is to start immediately
+for central South America. Change of scene may really be the salvation
+of him at this crisis in his life. To-day poor Laura asked Sir Percival
+to release her from the engagement.
+
+"If you still persist in maintaining our engagement," she said, looking
+irresistibly beautiful, "I may be your true and faithful wife, Sir
+Percival--your loving wife, if I know my own heart, never!"
+
+"I gratefully accept your grace and truth," he said. "The least that
+_you_ can offer is more to me than the utmost that I can hope for from
+any other woman in the world."
+
+_December_ 19. I received Sir Percival's consent to live with him as
+companion to his wife in their new home in Hampshire. I was interested
+to discover that Count Fosco, the husband of Laura's Aunt Eleanor, is a
+great friend of Sir Percival's.
+
+_December 22_, 11 _o'clock._ It is all over. They are married.
+
+_Black-water Park, Hampshire, June_ 11. Six long months have elapsed
+since Laura and I last saw each other. I have just arrived at her new
+home. My latest news of Walter Hartright is derived from an American
+paper. It describes how the expedition was last seen entering a wild
+primeval forest.
+
+_June_ 15. Laura has returned, and I have found her changed. The
+old-time freshness and softness have gone. She is, if anything, more
+beautiful. She refused to go into details on the subject of her married
+life, and the fact that we have this forbidden topic seems to make a
+difference to our old relations. Sir Percival made no pretence to be
+glad to see me. They brought two guests with them, Count Fosco and his
+wife, Laura's aunt. He is immensely fat, with a face like that of the
+great Napoleon, and eyes which have an extraordinary power. In spite of
+his size, he treads as softly as a cat. His manners are perfect. He
+never says a hard word to his wife; but, none the less, he rules her
+with a rod of iron. She is absolutely his slave, obedient to the
+slightest expression of his eyes. He manages Sir Percival as he manages
+his wife; and, indeed, all of us. He inquired to-day whether there were
+any Italian gentlemen in the neighbourhood.
+
+_June 16_. Merriman, Sir Percival's solicitor, came down to-day, and I
+accidentally overheard a conversation which seems to indicate a
+determination on Sir Percival's part to raise money on Laura's security,
+to pay off some of his heavy debts.
+
+_June 17_. Sir Percival tried to make Laura sign the document which had
+been brought down by Merriman. On my advice, she refused to do so
+without reading it. A terrible scene resulted, which was only stopped by
+the intervention of Count Fosco. Sir Percival swore that Laura shall
+sign it to-morrow. To-night, Laura and I fancied we saw a white figure
+in the wood.
+
+_June 18_. Laura has met Anne Catherick. It was she we saw in the wood
+last night. She came upon Laura in the boat-house, and declared she had
+something to tell her. "What is it you have to tell me?" asked Laura.
+"The secret that your cruel husband is afraid of," she answered. "I once
+threatened him with the secret and frightened him. You shall threaten
+him with the secret and frighten him, too." When Laura pressed her, she
+declared somebody was watching them and, pushing Laura back into the
+boat-house, disappeared.
+
+_June 19_. The worst has come. Sir Percival has discovered a message
+from Anne Catherick to Laura, promising to reveal the secret, and
+stating that yesterday she was followed by a "tall, fat man," clearly
+the count. Sir Percival was furious, and locked Laura up in her bedroom.
+Again the count has had to intervene on her behalf.
+
+_Later_.--By climbing out on the roof of the verandah, I have overheard
+a conversation between the count and Sir Percival. They spoke with
+complete frankness--with fiendish frankness--to one another. Fosco
+pointed out that his friend was desperately in need of money, and that,
+as Laura had refused to sign the document, he could not secure it by
+ordinary means. If Laura died, Sir Percival would inherit £20,000, and
+Fosco himself obtain through his wife £10,000. Sir Percival confessed
+that Anne Catherick had a secret which endangered his position. This
+secret, he surmised, she had told to Laura; and Laura, being in love
+with Walter Hartright--he had discovered this--would use it. The count
+inquired what Anne Catherick was like.
+
+"Fancy my wife after a bad illness with a touch of something wrong in
+her head, and there is Anne Catherick for you," answered Sir Percival.
+"What are you laughing about?"
+
+"Make your mind easy, Percival," he said. "I have my projects here in my
+big head. Sleep, my son, the sleep of the just."
+
+I crept back to my room soaked through with the rain. Oh, my God, am I
+going to be ill? I have heard the clock strike every hour. It is so
+cold, so cold; and the strokes of the clock--the strokes I can't
+count--keep striking in my head....
+
+[At this point the diary ceases to be legible.]
+
+
+_IV.--The Story Completed by Walter Hartright on His Return, from
+Several Manuscripts_
+
+
+The events that happened after Marian Halcombe fell ill while I was
+still absent in South America I will relate briefly.
+
+Count Fosco discovered Anne Catherick, and immediately took steps to put
+into execution the plot he had hinted at. Wearing the clothes of Lady
+Glyde, the unfortunate girl was taken to a house in St. John's Wood
+where the real Lady Glyde was expected to stay when passing through town
+on her way to Cumberland. Lady Glyde, on pretence that her half-sister
+had been removed to town, was induced to visit London, where she was met
+by Count Fosco, and at once placed in a private asylum in the name of
+Anne Catherick. Her statement that she was Lady Glyde was held to be
+proof of the unsoundness of her mind. Unfortunately for the count's
+plans, the real Anne Catherick died the day before the incarceration of
+Lady Glyde, but, as there was no one to prove the dates of these events,
+both Fosco and Sir Percival regarded themselves as secure. With great
+pomp the body of Anne Catherick was taken to Limmeridge and buried in
+the name of Lady Glyde.
+
+As soon as Marian Halcombe recovered, the supposed death of her
+half-sister was broken to her. Recollecting the conversation she had
+overheard just before she was taken ill, she had grave suspicions as to
+the cause of Laura's death, and immediately instituted inquiries. In the
+pursuit of these inquiries she visited Anne Catherick in the asylum, and
+her joy in discovering Laura there instead of the supposed Anne
+Catherick was almost overwhelming. By bribing one of the nurses, she
+secured Laura's freedom, and travelled with her to Limmeridge to
+establish her identity. To her disgust and amazement Frederick Fairlie
+refused to accept her statement, or to believe that Laura was other than
+Anne Catherick. Count Fosco had visited and prepared him.
+
+At this juncture I returned from South America, and, hearing of the
+death of the girl I loved, at once set off to Limmeridge on a sad
+pilgrimage to her grave. While I was reading the tragic narrative on the
+tombstone, two women approached. Even as the words, "Sacred to the
+memory of Laura, Lady Glyde," swam before my eyes, one of them lifted
+her veil. It was Laura.
+
+In a poor quarter of London I took up my abode with Laura and Miss
+Halcombe, and while my poor Laura slowly recovered her health and
+spirits I devoted myself to the support of the little household, and to
+unravelling the mystery which surrounded the events I have here
+recorded. From Mrs. Clements, who had befriended poor Anne Catherick, I
+learnt that Mrs. Catherick had had secret meetings years before with Sir
+Percival Glyde in the vestry of the church at Welmingham.
+
+To establish the exact relations between Mrs. Catherick and Sir
+Percival, I visited Welmingham, pursued by the baronet's agents. My
+interview with Mrs. Catherick satisfied me that Sir Percival was not the
+father of Anne, and that their secret meeting in the vestry had
+reference to some object other than romance. The contemptuous way in
+which Mrs. Catherick spoke of Sir Percival's mother set me thinking. I
+visited the vestry where the meetings had taken place, and examining the
+register, discovered at the bottom of one of the pages, compressed into
+a very small space, the entry of Sir Felix Glyde's marriage with the
+mother of Sir Percival. Hearing from the sexton that an old lawyer in
+the neighbouring town had a copy of this register, I visited him, and
+found that his copy did not contain the entry of this marriage.
+
+Here was the secret at last! Sir Percival was the illegitimate son of
+his father, and had forged this entry of his father's marriage in order
+to secure the title and estates. Mrs. Catherick was the only person who
+knew of the plot. In a fit of ill-temper she had told her daughter Anne
+that she possessed a secret that could ruin the baronet. Anne herself
+never knew the secret, but foolishly repeated her mother's words to Sir
+Percival, and the price of her temerity was incarceration in a private
+asylum.
+
+I returned post-haste to Welmingham to secure a copy of the forged
+entry. It was night. As I approached the church, a man stopped me,
+mistaking me for Sir Percival Glyde. A light in the vestry showed to me
+that Sir Percival had anticipated my discovery and had secretly visited
+the church for the purpose of destroying the evidences of his crime. But
+a terrible fate awaited him. Even as I approached the church, a huge
+tongue of flame shot up into the night sky. As I rushed forward I could
+hear the baronet vainly seeking to escape from the vestry. The lock was
+hampered, and he could not get out. I tried to force an entry, but by
+the time the flames were under control the end had come. We found the
+charred remains of the man who had walked through life as Sir Percival
+Clyde lying by the door.
+
+The mystery was now unravelled, and I was free to marry my darling. The
+only other point that seemed to need clearing up was the parentage of
+the unfortunate Anne Catherick. That was elucidated by Mrs. Catherick
+herself. The father of Anne was Philip Fairlie, the father of Laura--a
+fact that accounted for the extraordinary likeness between the two
+girls. But though our tribulations seemed to be at an end, we had yet to
+establish the identity of Laura, and to deal with Count Fosco.
+
+To Miss Halcombe the count had written a letter expressive of his
+admiration, and begging her, for her own sake, to let matters be. I knew
+the count was a dangerous enemy, who would not hesitate to employ murder
+if necessary to gain his ends, but I was determined to re-establish the
+identity of Laura. Miss Halcombe's journal afforded me a clue. I found
+there a statement that on the occasion of his first visit to Black-water
+Park the count had been very concerned to know whether there were any
+Italians in the neighbourhood. Without hoping that anything would result
+from the manoeuvre, I followed the count one night, in the company of my
+friend, Professor Pesca, to the theatre. The professor did not recognise
+Fosco, but when the count, staring round the theatre, focussed his
+glasses on Pesca, I saw a look of unmistakable terror come over his
+countenance. He at once rose from his seat and left the place. We
+followed.
+
+The professor was very grave, and it was quite a different man to the
+light-hearted little Italian that I knew who related to me a strange
+chapter in his life. As a young man, Pesca had belonged to, a secret
+society for the removal of tyrants. He was still a member of the
+society, and could be called upon to act at any time. The count had also
+been a member of the society, and had betrayed its secret. Hence his
+terror of seeing Pesca.
+
+I immediately made use of the weapon that had been placed in my hand. I
+went boldly to Fosco's house, and offered to effect his escape from
+England in return for a full confession of his share in the abduction of
+Lady Glyde. He threatened to kill me, but realising that I had him at my
+mercy, consented to my terms.
+
+This confession completely established the identity of Laura and she was
+publicly acknowledged by Mr. Frederick Fairlie. Laura and I had been
+married some time before and we were now able to set off on our
+honeymoon. We visited Paris. While there, I chanced to be attracted by a
+large crowd that surged round the doors of the Morgue. Forcing my way
+through, I saw, lying within, the body of Count Fosco. There was a wound
+exactly over his heart, and on his arm were two deep cuts in the shape
+of the letter "T"--the symbol of his treason to the secret brotherhood.
+
+When we returned to England, we lived comfortably on the income I was
+able to earn by my profession. A son was born to us, and when Frederick
+Fairlie died, it was Marion Halcombe, who had been the good angel of our
+lives, who announced the important change that had taken place in our
+prospects.
+
+"Let me make two eminent personages known to one another," she
+exclaimed, with all her easy gaiety of old times, holding out my son to
+me: "Mr. Walter Hartright--the heir of Limmeridge House."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+HUGH CONWAY
+
+
+Called Back
+
+      Hugh Conway, the English novelist, whose real name was
+     Frederick John Fargus, was born December 26, 1847, the son of
+     a Bristol auctioneer. His early ambition was to lead a
+     seafaring life, and with this object he entered the school
+     frigate Conway--from which he took his pseudonym--then
+     stationed on the Mersey. His father was against the project,
+     with the result that Conway abandoned the idea and entered his
+     parent's office, where he found ample leisure to employ
+     himself in writing occasional newspaper articles and tales.
+     His first published work was a volume of poems, which appeared
+     in 1879, and achieved a moderate success. But Hugh Conway is
+     chiefly known to the reading public for his famous story
+     "Called Black." The work was submitted to a number of
+     publishers before it was finally accepted and published, in
+     1884. Attracting little notice at first, it eventually made a
+     hit, and within five years 350,000 copies were sold. Several
+     other works appeared from Conway's pen in rapid succession,
+     but none of them attained the popularity of "Called Back."
+     Hugh Conway died at Monte Carlo on May 15, 1885.
+
+
+_I.--A Blind Witness_
+
+
+I was young, rich, and possessed of unusual vigour and strength. Life,
+you would think, should have been very pleasant to me. I was beyond the
+reach of care; I was as free as the wind to follow my own devices. But
+in spite of all these advantages, I was as helpless and miserable as the
+poorest toiler in the country.
+
+For I was blind, stone blind!
+
+The dread disease that robbed me of my sight had crept on me slowly
+through the years, and now I lay in my bedroom in Walpole Street, with
+my old nurse, Priscilla Drew, sleeping on an extemporised bed outside my
+door to tend and care for me.
+
+It was a stifling night in August. I could not sleep. Despair filled my
+heart. I was blind, blind, blind! I should be blind for ever! So
+entirely had I lost heart that I began to think I would not have
+performed at all the operation which the doctors said might give me back
+the use of my eyes.
+
+Presently a sudden, fierce longing to be out of doors came over me. It
+was night, very few people would be about. Old Priscilla slept soundly.
+I rose from my bed, and, dressing myself with difficulty, crept,
+cautious as a thief, to the street door. The street, a quiet one, was
+deserted. For a time I walked backwards and forwards up the street. The
+exercise filled me with a peculiar elation. By carefully counting my
+footsteps, I gauged accurately the position of my house. At last, I
+decided to return, and opening the door, I entered and climbed the
+stairs. The atmosphere of the place struck me as strange and unfamiliar.
+I felt for a bracket which should have been upon the wall, that I had
+often been warned to avoid knocking with my head. It was not there. I
+had entered the wrong house.
+
+As I turned to grope my way back, I heard the murmur of voices. I made
+my way in the direction of these sounds to seek for assistance.
+Suddenly, there fell upon my ears the notes of a piano and a woman's
+voice singing.
+
+Music with me was an absorbing passion. I listened enthralled, placing
+my ear close to the door from behind which the sound proceeded. It was a
+song that few amateurs would dare to attempt, and I waited eagerly to
+hear how the beautiful voice would render the finale. But I never heard
+that last movement.
+
+Instead of the soft, sweet, liquid notes of passionate love, there was a
+spasmodic, fearful gasp succeeded by a long, deep groan. The music
+stopped abruptly, and the piercing cry of a woman rang out. I threw open
+the door and rushed headlong into the room. I heard an oath, an
+exclamation of surprise, and the muffled cry of the woman. I turned in
+the direction of that faint cry. My foot caught in something, and I fell
+prostrate on the body of a man. Before I could rise a strong hand
+gripped my throat and I heard the sharp click of a pistol lock.
+
+"Spare me!" I cried. "I am blind, blind, blind!"
+
+I lay perfectly still, crying out these words again and again.
+
+A strong light was turned on my eyes. There was no sound in the room
+save the muffled cry of the woman. The hands at my throat were released,
+and I was ordered to stand up. Some elementary tests of my blindness
+were tried, and I was told to give an account of my presence in the
+house. My story seemed to satisfy the man who questioned me. I was
+bidden to sit in a chair. I could hear the sound of men carrying a heavy
+burden out of the room. Then the woman's moans ceased. A voice at my
+side bade me drink something out of a glass, enforcing the demand with a
+pistol at my temple. A heavy drowsiness came over me, and I sank into
+unconsciousness.
+
+When I came to myself I was in my own bed in my own room, having been
+found, apparently in a state of helpless intoxication, lying in a street
+some distance from where I lived.
+
+
+_II.--Not for Love or Marriage_
+
+
+Two years elapsed. The operation had given me back the use of my eyes. I
+was in the city of Turin with a friend. The sight of a beautiful face
+lured my companion and myself into the cathedral of San Giovanni. It was
+the face of a young girl of about twenty-two; a face of entrancing
+beauty. Seated with my friend, I watched her until she rose and left
+with her companion, an old Italian woman. For a moment I caught a look
+of her dark, glorious eyes as she mechanically crossed herself with holy
+water. There was a dreamy, far-away look in them, a look that seemed to
+pass over one and see what was behind the object gazed at.
+
+We followed her out of the cathedral and saw the old woman speak to a
+middle-aged, round-shouldered, bespectacled man of gentlemanly
+appearance.
+
+"Do English gentlemen stare at their own countrywomen in public places
+like this?" said a voice at our elbows.
+
+I turned to see a tall man of about thirty standing just behind us. His
+face, with its heavy moustache, sneering mouth, and darkened, sullen
+eyes, was not a pleasant one, and his impudent question annoyed me. My
+friend, with a few sharp retorts, delivered to him a crushing snub, and
+the man turned away, scowling. We saw him cross the road to the
+middle-aged man who had been speaking to the old Italian woman and her
+charge. And then we, too, went our way.
+
+The girl's face haunted me, but we never saw her again in the city of
+Turin.
+
+Some weeks later, when I was wandering through London, I suddenly came
+upon her in the company of her old nurse. I tracked her to her lodgings
+and there engaged rooms myself. An accident to the nurse, whose name I
+discovered was Theresa, gave me an opportunity of introducing myself.
+The girl spoke to me, but her voice and her manner was strangely
+apathetic. She seemed never to know me unless I spoke to her, and then,
+unless I asked questions, our conversation died a natural death. To make
+love to her seemed impossible, and yet I loved her passionately.
+
+At last, by aid of bribes, I managed to secure the qualified assistance
+of Theresa. She promised to place my proposals before the girl's
+guardian. Of Pauline herself--such was the girl's name--Theresa would
+say nothing. When I asked her if she thought the girl cared for me, she
+replied mysteriously and enigmatically.
+
+"Who knows? I do not know--but I tell you the _signorina_ is not for
+love or marriage."
+
+Theresa fulfilled her part of the bargain, and I received a visit from
+the middle-aged man I had seen in Turin. His name was Manuel Ceneri. His
+sister had married Pauline's father, an Englishman, March by name. He
+consented readily to my marriage with Pauline on one condition. I was to
+ask no questions, seek to know nothing of her birth and family, nothing
+of her early days.
+
+Pauline was called into the room. I took her hand. I asked her to be my
+wife.
+
+"Yes, if you wish it," she replied softly, without even changing colour.
+
+She did not repulse me, but she did not respond to my affection. She
+remained as calm and undemonstrative as ever.
+
+At Dr. Ceneri's strange urgency, Pauline and I were married two days
+later.
+
+
+_III.--Calling Back the Past_
+
+
+"Not for love or marriage!"
+
+I learned all too soon the meaning of Theresa's words. Pauline, my wife,
+my love, had no past. Slowly at first, then with swift steps, the truth
+came home to me. The face of the woman I had married was fair as the
+morn; her figure as perfect as that of a Grecian statue; her voice low
+and sweet; but the one thing which animates every charm--the mind--was
+missing. Memory, except for the events of the moment before, she had
+none. Of all emotion she was incapable. She was sweet and docile, but
+her whole existence was a negative one. Such was Pauline, my wife.
+
+When I was convinced of the truth, I placed her in charge of Priscilla
+and hastened to Geneva to seek an explanation from Ceneri. I should
+never have found the doctor had not chance thrown me in the way of the
+very Italian we had met outside the cathedral of San Giovanni. Knowing
+that he knew Ceneri, I spoke to him. At first he refused to have
+anything to do with me, but when I mentioned Pauline's name, he asked me
+what concern I had with her.
+
+"She is my wife," I replied.
+
+"Your wife!" he shouted. "You lie!"
+
+I rose furiously, and bade him choose his words more carefully. After a
+few moments he apologised, asking me whether Ceneri knew of our
+marriage. "Traditore," I heard him whisper fiercely to himself when I
+replied in the affirmative.
+
+After some further remarks, he consented to take me to Dr. Ceneri,
+telling me that his name was Macari. My interview with the doctor was
+somewhat unsatisfactory. Pauline had had a shock, but the nature of that
+shock he refused to disclose. Macari, before her illness, had imagined
+himself in love with her, and was furious at my marriage. One thing,
+however, the doctor told me, just as I left, which partially explained
+his consent to our union. He had been her guardian, and the fortune of
+£50,000 to which she was entitled he had spent in the cause of Italian
+freedom. Though he had betrayed his trust, he considered the cause
+justified the act; but he had been glad, none the less, to make her some
+compensation by marrying her to a wealthy Englishman.
+
+When I left Dr. Ceneri, I met Macari lurking outside. He declared that
+in a few weeks he would come to England and explain much that Ceneri had
+left unsaid.
+
+Several months later he kept his promise. Ceneri, he told me, had been
+arrested in St. Petersburg for participation in some anarchist plot, and
+was on his way to Siberia. Of his own personal history he discoursed at
+length. His name, it appeared, was really March, and he was Pauline's
+brother. In common with his sister, he had been robbed by Ceneri of his
+fortune.
+
+He asked to see his sister, but when they met, Pauline showed no
+recollection of him. He called often, and she watched him, I noticed,
+with an eager, troubled look. One night, after dinner, as he described
+how, in a battle, he had killed a white-coated Austrian, he seized a
+knife from the table, and illustrated the downward blow with which he
+had saved his own life. I heard a deep sigh behind me, and turning, I
+saw Pauline in a dead faint. I carried her to her room. When she came to
+herself again, or rather when she rose in her bed and turned her face to
+mine, I saw in her eyes, what, by the mercy of God, I shall never again
+see there.
+
+With eyes fixed and immovable, and dilated to their utmost extent, she
+rose and passed out of the room. I followed her. Swiftly she passed out
+of the house into the street, and without the slightest hesitation,
+turning at right angles, moved swiftly up a long, straight road. After
+turning once more she stopped at a three-storeyed house. Going up to the
+door, she laid her hand upon it. I tried to lead her gently away, but
+she resisted. What was I to do? The house was an empty one. I paused.
+Once before my latch-key had opened a strange door. Would it open this
+one? I tried it. It fitted exactly.
+
+Without waiting for me, Pauline ran in ahead. I shut the door. All was
+darkness. I could hear Pauline moving about on the first floor. I
+followed her, and, striking a match, found myself in a room with
+folding-doors. It was furnished, but the dust lay deep everywhere.
+Pauline stood in the middle of the room, holding her head in her hands,
+striving, it seemed, to remember something. I entered the back room with
+the candle I had found. There was a piano there. Something induced me to
+sit down at it and to play the first few notes of the song I had heard
+that terrible night.
+
+A nervous trembling seemed to seize Pauline. She crossed the floor
+towards me, and I made room for her at the piano. With a master hand she
+played brilliantly the prelude of the song of which I had struck a few
+vagrant notes. I waited breathlessly, expecting her to sing. Suddenly
+she started wildly to her feet and, uttering a wild cry of horror, sank
+into my arms. I laid her on a sofa close by. As I held her there, a
+strange thing happened.
+
+The room beyond the folding-doors was lit with a brilliant light.
+Grouped round a table were four men. One of them was Ceneri, the other
+Macari. The third man was a stranger to me. These three men were looking
+at a fourth man--a young man who appeared to be falling out of his
+chair, clutching convulsively the hilt of a dagger, the blade of which
+had been buried in his heart, clearly by Macari, who stood over him.
+
+I cannot explain this vision. I only saw it when I held Pauline's hand.
+When I let her hand drop the scene vanished. You may call it cataleptic,
+clairvoyant, anything you will; it was as I relate.
+
+
+_IV.--Seeking the Truth in Siberia_
+
+
+Macari called on me the day after this strange scene to ask me about the
+memorial to Victor Emanuel.
+
+"Before I consent to help you," I said, "I must know why you murdered a
+man three years ago in a house in Horace Street."
+
+He sprang to his feet and grasping my arm, looked intently into my eyes.
+I saw that he recognised me in spite of the great change that blindness
+makes in a face.
+
+"Why should I deny the affair to an eye-witness? To others I would deny
+it fast enough. Now, my fine fellow, my gay bridegroom, my dear
+brother-in-law, I will tell you why I killed that man. He had insulted
+my family. That man was Pauline's lover!"
+
+He saw what was in my face as I rose and walked towards him.
+
+"Not here," he said hastily, "what good can it do here--a vulgar scuffle
+between two gentlemen?"
+
+"Go," I cried, "murderer and coward. Every word you have spoken to me
+has been a lie, and because you hate me you have to-day told me the
+greatest lie of all."
+
+He left me with a look of malicious triumph in his face. I knew he lied,
+but how could I prove that he lied? Only Ceneri could tell me the truth.
+He was in Siberia, and, mad as the scheme seemed, thither I determined
+to go to get the whole truth from his lips.
+
+I exerted all the influence I possessed. I spent money freely, and with
+a special passport signed by the Czar himself, which placed all the
+resources of the Russian police at my disposal, I passed across Russia
+into Siberia. At last, after travelling thousands of miles, I came up
+with the gang of wretched prisoners in which the doctor was. Showing my
+papers to the officer in command, I was taken at once to the awful
+prison-house. I had him brought to me in a private room, and placed
+before him food and drink.
+
+"I want to ask you some questions," I said, "questions which you alone
+can answer."
+
+"Ask them. You have given me an hour's release from misery. I am
+grateful."
+
+"The first question I have to ask is--who and what is that man Macari?"
+
+Ceneri sprang to his feet. "A traitor! a traitor!" he cried.
+
+It was Macari who had betrayed him. Macari was no more Anthony March,
+the brother of Pauline, than I was, and Pauline had never had a lover in
+the sense in which Macari had used the word.
+
+Pauline was an innocent as an angel. The lie I had come so far to
+destroy had dissolved. There was one other question I had to ask. Who
+was the man Macari had killed, and what had he to do with Pauline?
+Ceneri's face turned ashen as I asked him the question. It was some
+moments before he understood that I was the man who had stumbled into
+the room. Then he told me all.
+
+The murdered man was Anthony March, the brother of Pauline. As he had
+already confessed, Ceneri had spent all the trust-money of which he was
+guardian for Pauline and her brother, in the cause of Italian freedom.
+When the young man grew up, the time drew near when Ceneri must explain
+all and take the consequences. The evil day was delayed by providing him
+with money. That money ran out. Ceneri and the two other men, fearful of
+the consequences to all of them, decided upon a plan to silence Anthony.
+He was to be lured to the house in Horace Street, and to leave it as a
+lunatic in charge of a doctor and keepers. But Macari ruined the plot.
+He was in love with Pauline, and Anthony had spoken contemptuously of
+such a match for his sister. A few insolent words at the house in Horace
+Street, and the passionate Italian's knife had found its way into the
+young man's heart. It was Ceneri who had saved my life when I stumbled
+upon the scene. The third sharer in the tragedy, who had drowned
+Pauline's shrieks in a sofa cushion, had since died raving mad in a
+cell. That was the story.
+
+I hastened back to England, leaving money behind me to provide a few
+comforts for the unfortunate prisoner. I went direct to the little
+village where Pauline was staying with Priscilla. I could see that she
+remembered me but as a person in a dream. I had to woo her now. Of our
+marriage she seemed to have forgotten everything. Though all the old
+apathy had disappeared, and her mind had once more awakened in her
+beautiful body, she did not remember that. I despaired at last of
+winning her, and I determined to bid her good-bye forever. As I sat in
+the woods with her for the last time, gloom in my heart, I fell into a
+doze. I was awakened by kisses on my cheeks. I sprang to my feet. In
+front of me stood Pauline, and looking into her eyes, I saw that she
+loved me.
+
+She had realised on my first return that I was her husband, but had
+determined to find out if I loved her. As I said nothing, so she too had
+remained silent.
+
+"Gilbert," she said, "I have wept, but now I smile. The past is passed.
+Let the love I bore my brother be buried in the greater love I give my
+husband. Let us turn our backs on the dark shadows and begin our lives."
+
+Have I more to tell--one thing only. We went to Paris for our real
+honeymoon. The great war was over, and the Commune had just ended. In
+the company of a friend I saw some Communists led out to be shot, and
+among their faces I recognised Macari.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+FENIMORE COOPER
+
+
+The Last of the Mohicans
+
+      James Fenimore Cooper, born in New Jersey on September 15,
+     1789, was a hot-headed controversialist of Quaker descent,
+     who, after a restless youth, partly spent at sea, became the
+     earliest conspicuous American novelist. Apart from fiction,
+     Cooper's principal subject was American naval history. Though
+     he made many enemies and lived in turmoil, the novelist had a
+     strain of nobility in his character that is reflected
+     throughout his formal but manly narratives. Love interest
+     rarely rises in his stories beyond a mechanical
+     sentimentality; it is the descriptions of adventure that
+     attract. Nowhere are Fenimore Cooper's vivid powers of
+     description more apparent than in "The Last of the Mohicans,"
+     the second in order of the Leatherstocking tales. In the first
+     of the series, "The Pioneers," the Leatherstocking is
+     represented as already past the prime of life, and is
+     gradually being driven out of his beloved forests by the axe
+     and the smoke of the white settler. "The Last of the Mohicans"
+     takes the reader back before this period, to a time when the
+     red man was in his vigour, and was a power to be reckoned with
+     in the east of America. The third of the famous tales is "The
+     Prairie," in which Cooper's picturesque hero is laid in his
+     grave. Despite this, the author resuscitates him in the two
+     remaining volumes--"The Pathfinder" and "The Deerslayer." Of
+     these five novels, and, as a matter of fact, of all Cooper's
+     works, "The Last of the Mohicans" is regarded as the
+     masterpiece. In it are to be found all the author's virtues,
+     and few of his faults. It is certainly the most popular,
+     having been translated into several languages. It was first
+     published in 1826. Cooper died at Cooperstown, the family
+     locality, on September 14. 1851.
+
+
+_I.--Betrayed by the Redskin_
+
+
+It was the third year of the war between France and England in North
+America. At Fort Edward, where General Webb lay with five thousand men,
+the startling news had just been received that the French general,
+Montcalm, was moving up the Champlain Lake with an army "numerous as the
+leaves on the trees," with the forest fastness of Fort William Henry as
+his object.
+
+Fort William Henry was held by the veteran Scotchman, Munro, at the head
+of a regiment of regulars and a few provincials. As this force was
+utterly inadequate to stem Montcalm's advance, General Webb at once sent
+fifteen hundred men to strengthen the position. While the camp was in a
+state of bustle consequent on the departure of this relieving force,
+Captain Duncan Hayward detached himself from the throng, and conducting
+two ladies, the daughters of Munro, Alice and Cora, to their horses,
+mounted another steed himself. It was his welcome duty to see that the
+ladies reached Fort William Henry in safety. In order that they might
+make the journey the more expeditiously, they had obtained the services
+of a famous Indian runner, known by the name of Le Renard Subtil, whose
+native appellation was Magua.
+
+The party had but five leagues to traverse, and Magua had undertaken to
+lead them a short way through the forest. The girls hesitated as they
+reached the point where they left the military road and had to take to a
+narrow and blind path amidst the dense trees and undergrowth. The
+terrifying aspect of the guide and the loneliness of the route filled
+them with alarm.
+
+"Here, then, lies our way," said Duncan in a low voice. "Manifest no
+distrust, or you may invite the danger you appear to apprehend."
+
+Taking this hint, the girls whipped up their horses and followed the
+runner along the dark and tangled pathway. They had not gone far when
+they heard the sounds of a horse's hoofs behind them, and presently
+there dashed up to their side a singular-looking person, with
+extraordinary long thin legs, an emaciated body, and an enormous head.
+The grotesqueness of his figure was enhanced by a sky-blue coat and a
+soiled vest of embossed silk embroidered with tarnished silver lace.
+Coming up with the party, he declared his intention of accompanying them
+to Fort William Henry. Refusing to listen to any objection, he took from
+his vest a curious musical instrument, and, placing it to his mouth,
+drew from it a high, shrill sound. This done, he began singing in full
+and melodious tones one of the New England versions of the Psalms.
+
+Magua whispered something to Heyward, and the latter turned impatiently
+to David Gamut--such was the singer's name--and requested him in the
+name of common prudence to postpone his chant until a safer opportunity.
+The Indian allies of Montcalm, it was known, swarmed in the forest, and
+the object of the party was to move forward as quietly as possible.
+
+As the cavalcade pressed deeper into the wild thicket, a savage face
+peered out at them from between the bushes. A gleam of exultation shot
+across his darkly painted lineaments as he watched his victims walking
+unconsciously into the trap which Magua had prepared.
+
+
+_II.--In the Nick of Time_
+
+
+Within an hour's journey of Fort Edward two men were lingering on the
+banks of a small stream. One of them was a magnificent specimen of an
+Indian--almost naked, with a terrific emblem of death painted upon his
+chest. The other was a European, with the quick, roving eye, sun-tanned
+cheeks, and rough dress of a hunter.
+
+"Listen, Hawk-eye," said the Indian, addressing his companion, "and I
+will tell you what my fathers have said, and what the Mohicans have
+done. We came and made this land ours, and drove the Maquas who followed
+us, into the woods with the bears. Then came the Dutch, and gave my
+people the fire-water. They drank until the heavens and the earth seemed
+to meet. Then they parted with their land, and now I, that am a chief
+and a Sagamore, have never seen the sun shine but through the trees, and
+have never visited the graves of my fathers. When Uncas, my son, dies,
+there will no longer be any of the blood of the Sagamores. My boy is the
+last of the Mohicans."
+
+"Uncas is here," said another voice, in the same soft, guttural tones.
+"Who speaks to Uncas?" At the next instant a youthful warrior passed
+between them with a noiseless tread, and seated himself by the side of
+his father, Chingachgook. "I have been on the trail of the Maquas, who
+lie hid like cowards," continued Uncas.
+
+Further talk regarding their hated enemies, the Maquas, who acted as the
+spies of Montcalm, was cut short by the sound of horses' feet. The three
+men rose to their feet, their eyes watchful and attentive, and their
+rifles ready for any emergency.
+
+Presently, the cavalcade from Fort Edward appeared, and Heyward,
+addressing Hawk-eye, asked for information as to their whereabouts,
+explaining that they had trusted to an Indian, who had lost his way.
+
+"An Indian lost in the woods?" exclaimed the scout. "I should like to
+look at the creature."
+
+Saying this, he crept stealthily into the thicket. In a few moments he
+returned, his suspicions fully confirmed. Magua had clearly led the
+party into a trap for purposes of his own, and Hawk-eye at once took
+steps to secure his capture. While Heyward held the runner in
+conversation, the scout and the two Mohicans crept silently through the
+undergrowth to surround him, but the slight crackle of a breaking stick
+aroused Magua's suspicion, and, even as the ambush closed on him, he
+dodged under Heyward's arms and vanished into the opposite thicket.
+
+Hawk-eye was too well acquainted with Indian ways to think of pursuing,
+and, restraining the eagerness of Heyward, who would have followed
+Magua, and would have been undoubtedly led to the place where the
+scalping-knives of Magua's companions awaited him, the scout called a
+council of war.
+
+The position was serious in the extreme, how serious was disclosed that
+night as they lay hid in a cave.
+
+Suddenly, with blood-curdling yells, the Maquas surrounded them. They
+were surrounded completely, and, to add to the terrors of their
+situation, they discovered that their ammunition was exhausted. There
+seemed nothing to be done but die fighting. It was Cora who suggested an
+alternative: that Hawk-eye and the two Mohicans should make for Fort
+William Henry and procure from their father, Munro, enough men to take
+them back in safety. It was the one desperate chance, and the Mohicans
+took it. Dropping silently down the river, they disappeared. Duncan,
+David, and the two girls were left alone; but not for long. As the night
+drew out, a body of the Maquas, swimming across the river, entered the
+cave, and made the whole party prisoners.
+
+It was Magua who directed all these operations, and it was Magua who
+announced their fate to his prisoners. Alice should go back to her
+father, but Cora was to become his squaw in an Indian wigwam.
+
+"Monster!" cried Cora, when this proposal was laid before her. "None but
+a fiend could meditate such a vengeance!"
+
+Magua answered with a ghastly smile, and, at his command, the Indians,
+seizing their white victims, bound them to four trees. Stakes of glowing
+wood were prepared for their torture. Once more Magua offered the
+alternative of dishonour or death. Cora wavered, but Alice strengthened
+her resolution.
+
+"No, no!" she cried. "Better that we die as we have lived, together."
+
+"Then die!" shouted Magua, hurling his tomahawk at the girl's head. It
+missed her by an inch. Another savage rushed to complete the terrible
+deed. Maddened at the sight, Duncan broke his bonds, and flung himself
+on the savage. He was at once overpowered. He saw a knife glistening
+above his head; it was just about to descend. Suddenly there was a sharp
+crack of a rifle, and his assailant fell dead at his feet. At the same
+moment Hawk-eye and the two Mohicans dashed into the encampment. In a
+few moments the six Indians, taken by surprise, were killed; only Magua
+lived. He seemed to be at the mercy of Chingachgook. Already he lay
+apparently lifeless. The Mohican rose with a yell of triumph, and raised
+his knife to give the final blow. Even as he did so Magua rolled himself
+over the edge of the precipice near which he lay, and, alighting on his
+feet, leapt into the centre of a thicket of low bushes and disappeared.
+
+
+_III.--"The Jubilee of Devils_"
+
+
+The party had reached William Henry only to leave it again. Montcalm
+asked for an interview with Munro, and through Duncan, who acted as the
+latter's representative, explained that it was hopeless to think of
+holding the fort. General Webb had withdrawn the relieving force, and
+the English were outnumbered by about twenty to one. With chivalrous
+courtesy, the French general proposed that his brave enemies should
+march out with their arms and ammunition and all the honours of war.
+These conditions Munro sadly accepted. Compelled to be with his men,
+Munro entrusted his daughters to the care of David.
+
+According to the conditions of the surrender, the troops marched out.
+Behind them came the women and stragglers, the French and their native
+allies watching them in silence. At the other side of the plain was a
+defile. The troops slowly entered this, and disappeared. The rear-guard
+of civilians was now left alone on the plain. Cora, as she pressed
+slowly onwards with her sister and David, saw Magua addressing the
+natives, speaking with his fatal and artful eloquence. The effect of his
+words was soon seen.
+
+One of the savages, attracted by the shawl in which a mother had wrapped
+her baby, seized the child, and dashed its brains out on the ground. As
+the mother sprang forward, he buried his tomahawk in her brain. It was
+the signal for a massacre. Magua raised the fatal and appalling
+war-whoop. At its sound two thousand savages broke from the wood and
+fell upon the unresisting victims. Death was everywhere, and in his most
+terrific and disgusting aspect.
+
+"It is the jubilee of devils," said David, who, in spite of his
+uselessness, never dreamed of deserting his trust. "If David tamed the
+evil spirit of Saul, it may not be amiss to try the potency of music
+here."
+
+He poured out a strain of song that echoed even over the din of that
+bloody field. Magua heard it and, through the throng of savages, rushed
+to their side.
+
+"Come," he cried, seizing Alice in his blood-stained arms; "the wigwam
+of the Huron is still open!"
+
+In vain Cora begged him to release her sister. Across the plain he bore
+her swiftly, followed by Cora and David. As soon as he reached the
+woods, he placed the two girls on horses that were waiting there, and,
+never heeding David, who mounted the remaining steed, dashed forward
+into the wilds.
+
+
+_IV.--Captives of the Hurons_
+
+
+Three days after the surrender of the fort, Hawk-eye and his two Mohican
+companions, accompanied by Munroe and Duncan, stood upon the fatal
+plain. Everywhere they had searched for the bodies of the two girls, and
+nowhere could they be found. It was clear to Hawk-eye that they still
+lived, and had been carried off by Magua. With untiring energy he at
+once set off to try and discover the trail. It was Uncas, who, finding a
+portion of Cora's skirt caught on a bush, first opened up the line of
+pursuit. He it was, too, who read the track of Magua's feet on the
+ground--the unmistakable straddling toe of the drinking savage. An
+ornament dropped by Alice, and the large footprints of the
+singing-master, laid bare to the trained intelligence of the Indian
+scout everything that had happened.
+
+As they reached the outskirts of a clearing, they perceived a
+melancholy-looking savage in war-paint and moccasins seated by the side
+of a stream watching a colony of beavers busily engaged in making a dam.
+Duncan was about to fire, but Hawk-eye, roaring with laughter, stayed
+his arm. The savage was none other than David.
+
+Alice and Cora were near at hand, and Duncan was all eager to make his
+way to their side. Hawk-eye so far humoured his whim as to consent to
+his visiting the encampment disguised as a medicine man.
+
+As soon as he entered the camp he declared that he had been sent by the
+Grand Monarque to heal the ills of the Hurons. The chief to whom he
+spoke listened to him for some time, and then asked him to show his
+skill by frightening away the evil spirit that lived in the wife of one
+of his young men. Duncan could not refuse, though he felt certain that
+the trial of his skill would result in the detection of his disguise.
+Just as the chief was about to lead the way to the woman's side, Magua
+joined the group, to be followed shortly afterwards by a number of young
+men bringing with them a prisoner. A cry went up, "Le Cerf Agile!" and
+every warrior sprang to his feet. To his dismay, Duncan saw that it was
+Uncas. Magua gazed at his captive gravely for some time; then, raising
+his arm, shook it at him, exclaiming, "Mohican, you die!"
+
+Duncan's conductor led him to a cave which went some distance into the
+rocky side of the mountain. As he entered, Duncan saw a dark;
+mysterious-looking object that rose unexpectedly in his path. It was a
+bear, and though the young soldier knew that the Indians often kept such
+animals as pets, its deep growls, and the manner in which it clutched at
+him as he passed up the long, narrow passage of the cave, caused him not
+a little uneasiness.
+
+Having shown him the sick woman, who, it was clear, was dying, the
+Indians left the supposed medicine man to fight the devils by himself.
+To his horror, Duncan saw that the bear remained behind, growling
+savagely. Watching it uneasily, he noticed its head suddenly fall on one
+side, and in its place appeared the sturdy countenance of the scout. As
+quickly as he could Hawk-eye explained how he had come across a wizard
+preparing for a _séance_, how he had knocked him on the head and taken
+the bear's skin in which the charlatan had proposed to make his magic.
+
+While the scout rearranged his disguise, Duncan, searching the cave, in
+another compartment discovered Alice. But even as the girl was in the
+first throes of delight at this unexpected meeting, the guttural laugh
+of Magua was heard, and she saw the dark form and malignant visage of
+the savage.
+
+"Huron, do your worst!" exclaimed the excited Heyward, as he saw that
+all his plans were brought to nought.
+
+"Will the white man speak these words at the stake?" asked Magua,
+turning to leave the cave. As he did so the bear growled loudly and
+threateningly; believing it to be one of the wizards, Magua attempted to
+pass it contemptuously. Suddenly the animal rushed at him, and, seizing
+him in its arms, completely overpowered him. Duncan at once ran to the
+scout's assistance, and secured the savage.
+
+At Hawk-eye's suggestion, Alice was wrapped up in the dying woman's
+clothes, and, completely hidden from view, was carried out of the cave.
+
+"The disease has gone out of her," explained Duncan to the father and
+husband who waited without. "I go to take the woman to a distance, where
+I will strengthen her against any further attack. Let my children wait
+without, and if the evil spirit appears beat him down with clubs."
+
+Leaving the Indians with a certainty that they would not enter the
+cavern and discover Magua, Duncan and the scout made their way to the
+hut where Uncas lay bound. Entering with David, they released the
+Mohican, and immediately hastened to take the next step suggested by the
+resourceful Hawk-eye. David was secure from all harm; so the scout,
+stepping out of his bear-skin, dressed himself in the singing-master's
+clothes, while Uncas donned the wizard's disguise. Thus arrayed they
+ventured out among the natives, leaving David within. Without being
+suspected, they passed through the encampment; but they had not got far
+before a yell announced that their subterfuge had been discovered. Uncas
+cast his skin, and having used their rifles with deadly effect, he and
+the scout made their escape into the woods, taking Alice with them.
+
+
+_V.--Hawk-eye's Revenge_
+
+
+Magua, for motives of policy, had, while keeping Alice in his own hands,
+entrusted Cora to the neighbouring tribe of Tortoise Delawares. Thither
+went Magua, to find that the scout and his companions were before him.
+Nothing daunted, Magua almost persuaded the Tortoises to surrender the
+girl. As the chief of the tribe hesitated how to act, Uncas stepped
+forward and bared his breast. A cry rose from all present, for there,
+delicately tatooed on the young Mohican's skin, was the emblem of a
+Tortoise. In him the tribe recognised the long-lost scion of the purest
+race of the Delawares, who, tradition said, still wandered far and
+unknown on the hills and through the forests.
+
+But in spite of Uncas's authority, the Indian law could not be set
+aside. Cora was Magua's captive of war. He had sought her in peace, and
+she must follow him. By all the laws of Indian hospitality his person
+was sacred till the setting of the sun.
+
+As soon as the Maquas had disappeared, the Tortoises made ready for war,
+with all the grim and terrifying ceremonies of their race. As hour after
+hour slipped by, the savage spirit of the tribe increased in fury. Uncas
+alone remained unmoved. Standing in the midst of the now maddened
+savages, he kept his eyes fixed upon the declining sun. It dipped
+beneath the horizon; at once the whole encampment was broken up, and the
+warriors rushed down the trail which Magua had followed.
+
+As soon as they came in touch with the enemy, a desperate and bloody
+battle was fought. Under the leadership of the two Mohicans and
+Hawk-eye, victory swayed to the side of the Tortoises. Huron after Huron
+fell, until only Magua and two companions were left. Then, with a yell,
+Le Renard Subtil rushed from the field of battle, and, seizing Cora, ran
+up a steep defile towards the mountains. On the side of the precipice
+Cora refused to move any farther.
+
+"Woman!" cried Magua, raising his knife, "choose--the wigwam or the
+knife of Le Subtil?"
+
+Cora neither heard nor heeded his demands. Magua trembled in every
+fibre. He raised his arm on high. Just then a piercing cry was heard
+from above, and Uncas leapt frantically from a fearful height upon the
+ledge on which they stood. He fell prostrate for a moment. As he lay
+there, Magua plunged his knife into his back, and at the same moment one
+of the other Indians stretched Cora lifeless. With the last effort of
+his strength Uncas rose to his feet, and hurled Cora's murderer into the
+abyss below. Then, with a stern and steady look, he turned to Le Subtil
+and indicated with the expression of his eye all that he would do had
+not the power deserted him, Magua seized his nerveless arm and stretched
+him dead by passing his dagger several times through his body.
+
+"Mercy!" cried Heyward from above. "Give mercy, and thou shalt receive
+it!"
+
+For answer, Magua raised a shout of triumph, and, leaping a wide
+fissure, made for the summit of the mountain. A single bound would carry
+him to the brow of the precipice and assure his safety. Before taking
+the leap he shook his hand defiantly at Hawk-eye, who waited with his
+rifle raised.
+
+"The pale faces are dogs! The Delawares women! Magua leaves them on the
+rocks for the crows!"
+
+Making a desperate leap, and falling short of his mark, Magua saved
+himself by grasping some shrub on the verge of the height. With an
+effort he pulled himself up. Hawk-eye, whose rifle shook with suppressed
+excitement, watched him closely. As his body was thus collected
+together, he drew the weapon to his shoulder and fired.
+
+The arms of the Huron relaxed and his body fell back a little, but his
+knees still kept their position. Turning a relentless look on his enemy,
+he shook his hand at him in grim defiance. But his hold loosened, and
+his dark person was seen cutting the air, with its head downwards, for a
+fleeting instant, until it glided past the fringe of shrubbery in its
+rapid flight to destruction.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+The Spy
+
+      Cooper's first success, "The Spy," appeared when he was
+     thirty-two, and his novel-writing period extended over a
+     quarter of a century. The best tales--the famous
+     Leatherstocking series--were begun two years after "The Spy."
+     Susceptible patriotism has discovered in his writings an
+     anti-English bias, but "The Spy" is rather a proof of balanced
+     judgment in the midst of sharp national antagonisms.
+
+
+_I.--Uncomfortable Visitors_
+
+
+Near the close of the year 1780 a solitary traveller was pursuing his
+way through one of the numerous little valleys of New York State which
+were then common ground for the British and Revolutionary forces.
+Anxious to obtain a speedy shelter from the increasing violence of the
+storm, the traveller knocked at the door of a house which had an air
+altogether superior to the common farmhouses of the country. In answer
+to his knocking, an aged black appeared, and, without seeming to think
+it necessary to consult his superiors, acceded to the request for
+accommodation.
+
+The stranger was shown into a neat parlour, where, after politely
+repeating his request to an old gentleman who arose to receive him, and
+paying his compliments to three ladies who were seated at work with
+their needles, he commenced laying aside his outer garments, and
+exhibited to the scrutiny of the observant family party a tall and
+graceful person, apparently fifty years of age. His countenance evinced
+a settled composure and dignity; his eye was quiet, thoughtful, and
+rather melancholy; the mouth expressive of decision and much character.
+His whole appearance was so decidedly that of a gentleman that the
+ladies arose and, together with the master of the house, received anew
+and returned the complimentary greetings suitable for the occasion.
+
+After handing a glass of excellent Madeira to his guest, Mr. Wharton,
+for so was the owner of this retired estate called, threw an inquiring
+glance on the stranger and asked, "To whose health am I to have the
+honour of drinking?"
+
+The traveller replied, while a faint tinge gathered on his features--
+"Mr. Harper."
+
+"Mr. Harper," resumed the other, with the formal precision of the day,
+"I have the honour to drink your health, and to hope you will sustain no
+injury from the rain to which you have been exposed."
+
+Mr. Harper bowed in silence to the compliment, and seated himself by the
+fire with an air of reserve that baffled further inquiry.
+
+The storm now began to rage without with great violence, and on the way
+being led to the supper-table a loud summons again called the black to
+the portal. In a minute he returned and informed his master that another
+traveller desired shelter for the night.
+
+Mr. Wharton, who had risen from his seat in evident uneasiness, scarcely
+had time to bid the black show the second man in before the door was
+thrown hastily open and the stranger himself entered the apartment. He
+paused a moment as the person of Harper met his view, and then repeated
+the request he had made through the servant.
+
+Throwing aside a rough great-coat, the intruder very composedly
+proceeded to allay the cravings of an appetite which appeared by no
+means delicate. But at every mouthful he turned an unquiet eye on
+Harper, who studied his appearance with a closeness that was very
+embarrassing. At length, pouring out a glass of wine and nodding to his
+examiner, the newcomer said, "I drink to our better acquaintance, sir; I
+believe this is the first time we have met, though your attention would
+seem to say otherwise."
+
+"I think we have never met before, sir," replied Harper, with a slight
+smile, and then, appearing satisfied with his scrutiny, he rose and
+desired to be shown to his place of rest.
+
+The knife and fork fell from the hands of the unwelcome intruder as the
+door closed on the retiring figure of Harper; listening attentively he
+approached the door, opened it--amid the panic and astonishment of his
+companions--closed it again, and in an instant the red wig which
+concealed his black locks, the large patch which hid half his face, the
+stoop that made him appear fifty years of age, disappeared.
+
+"My father! my dear father!" cried the handsome young man.
+
+"Heaven bless you, my Henry, my son," exclaimed the astonished and
+delighted parent, while his sisters sank on his shoulders dissolved in
+tears.
+
+A twelvemonth had passed since Captain Wharton had seen his family, and
+now, having impatiently adopted the disguise mentioned, he had
+unfortunately arrived on the evening that an unknown and rather
+suspicious guest was an inmate of the house.
+
+"Do you think he suspects me?" asked the captain.
+
+"How should he?" cried Sarah, his elder sister, "when your sisters and
+father could not penetrate your disguise."
+
+"There is something mysterious in his manner; his looks are too prying
+for an indifferent observer," continued young Wharton thoughtfully, "and
+his face seems familiar to me. The recent fate of André has created much
+irritation on both sides. The rebels would think me a fit subject for
+their plans should I be so unlucky as to fall into their hands. My visit
+to you would seem to them a cloak to other designs."
+
+
+_II.--The Disguise That Failed_
+
+
+The morning still forbade the idea of exposing either man or beast to
+the tempest. Harper was the last to appear, and Henry Wharton had
+resumed his disguise with a reluctance amounting to disgust, but in
+obedience to the commands of his parent.
+
+While the company were yet seated at breakfast, Caesar, the black,
+entered and laid a small parcel in silence by his master.
+
+"What is this, Caesar?" inquired Mr. Wharton, eyeing the bundle
+suspiciously.
+
+"The baccy, sir; Harvey Birch, he got home, and he bring you a little
+good baccy."
+
+To Sarah Wharton this intelligence gave unexpected pleasure, and, rising
+from her seat, she bade the black show Birch into the apartment, adding
+suddenly, with an apologising look, "If Mr. Harper will excuse the
+presence of a pedlar."
+
+The stranger bowed a silent acquiescence, while Captain Wharton placed
+himself in a window recess, and drew the curtain before him in such a
+manner as to conceal most of his person from observation.
+
+Harvey Birch had been a pedlar from his youth, and was in no way
+distinguished from men of his class but by his acuteness and the mystery
+which enveloped his movements. Those movements were so suspicious that
+his imprisonments had been frequent.
+
+The pedlar soon disposed of a considerable part of the contents of his
+pack to the ladies, telling the news while he displayed his goods.
+
+"Have you any other news, friend?" asked Captain Wharton, in a pause,
+venturing to thrust his head without the curtains.
+
+"Have you heard that Major André has been hanged?" was the reply.
+
+"Is there any probability of movements below that will make travelling
+dangerous?" asked Harper.
+
+Birch answered slowly, "I saw some of De Lancey's men cleaning their
+arms as I passed their quarters, for the Virginia Horse are now in the
+county."
+
+"You must be known by this time, Harvey, to the officers of the British
+Army," cried Sarah, smiling at the pedlar.
+
+"I know some of them by sight," said Birch, glancing his eyes round the
+apartment, taking in their course Captain Wharton, and resting for an
+instant on the countenance of Harper.
+
+The party sat in silence for many minutes after the pedlar had
+withdrawn, until at last Mr. Harper suddenly said, "If any apprehensions
+of me induce Captain Wharton to maintain his disguise, I wish him to be
+undeceived; had I motives for betraying him they could not operate under
+present circumstances."
+
+The sisters sat in speechless surprise, while Mr. Wharton was stupefied;
+but the captain sprang into the middle of the room, and exclaimed, as he
+tore off his disguise, "I believe you from my soul, and this tiresome
+imposition shall continue no longer. You must be a close observer, sir."
+
+"Necessity has made me one," said Harper, rising from his seat.
+
+Frances, the younger sister, met him as he was about to withdraw, and,
+taking his hand between both her own, said with earnestness, "You
+cannot, you will not betray my brother!"
+
+For an instant Harper paused, and then, folding her hands on his breast,
+replied solemnly, "I cannot, and I will not!" and added, "If the
+blessing of a stranger can profit you, receive it." And he retired, with
+a delicacy that all felt, to his own apartment.
+
+In the afternoon the sky cleared, and as the party assembled on the lawn
+to admire the view which was now disclosed, the pedlar suddenly
+appeared.
+
+"The rig'lars must be out from below," he remarked, with great emphasis;
+"horse are on the road; there will soon be fighting near us." And he
+glanced his eye towards Harper with evident uneasiness.
+
+As Birch concluded, Harper, who had been contemplating the view, turned
+to his host and mentioned that his business would not admit of
+unnecessary delay; he would therefore avail himself of the fine evening
+to ride a few miles on his journey.
+
+There was a mutual exchange of polite courtesy between the host and his
+parting guest, and as Harper frankly offered his hand to Captain
+Wharton, he remarked, "The step you have undertaken is one of much
+danger, and disagreeable consequences to yourself may result from it. In
+such a case I may have it in my power to prove the gratitude I owe your
+family for its kindness."
+
+"Surely, sir," cried the father, "you will keep secret the discovery
+which your being in my house has enabled you to make?"
+
+Harper turned to the speaker, and answered mildly, "I have learned
+nothing in your family, sir, of which I was ignorant; but your son is
+safer from my knowledge of his visit than he would be without it."
+
+And, bowing to the whole party, he rode gracefully through the little
+gate, and was soon lost to view.
+
+"Captain Wharton, do you go in to-night?" asked the pedlar abruptly,
+when this scene had closed.
+
+"No!" said the captain laconically.
+
+"I rather guess you had better shorten your visit," continued the
+pedlar, coolly.
+
+"No, no, Mr. Birch; here I stay till morning! I brought myself out, and
+can take myself in. Our bargain went no further than to procure my
+disguise and to let me know when the coast was clear, and in the latter
+particular you were mistaken."
+
+"I was," said the pedlar, "and the greater the reason why you should go
+back to-night. The pass I gave you will serve but once."
+
+"Here I stay this night, come what will."
+
+"Captain Wharton," said the pedlar, with great deliberation, "beware a
+tall Virginian with huge whiskers; he is below you; the devil can't
+deceive him; I never could but once."
+
+
+_III.--A Dangerous Situation_
+
+
+The family were assembled round the breakfast-table in the morning when
+Caesar, who was looking out of the window, exclaimed, "Run, Massa Harry,
+run; here come the rebel horse."
+
+Captain Wharton's sisters, with trembling hands, had hastily replaced
+the original disguise, when the house was surrounded by dragoons, and
+the heavy tread of a trooper was heard outside the parlour door. The man
+who now entered the room was of colossal stature, with dark hair around
+his brows in profusion, and his face nearly hid in the whiskers by which
+it was disfigured. Frances saw in him at once the man from whose
+scrutiny Harvey Birch had warned them there was much to be apprehended.
+
+"Has there been a strange gentleman staying with you during the storm?"
+asked the dragoon.
+
+"This gentleman here favoured us with his company during the rain,"
+stammered Mr. Wharton.
+
+"This gentleman!" repeated the other, as he contemplated Captain Wharton
+with a lurking smile, and then, with a low bow, continued, "I am sorry
+for the severe cold you have in your head, sir, causing you to cover
+your handsome locks with that ugly old wig."
+
+Then, turning to the father, he proceeded, "Then, sir, I am to
+understand a Mr. Harper has not been here?"
+
+"Mr. Harper?" echoed the other; "yes, I had forgotten; but he is gone,
+and if there is anything wrong in his character we are in entire
+ignorance of it."
+
+"He is gone--how, when, and whither?"
+
+"He departed as he arrived," said Mr. Wharton, gathering confidence, "on
+horseback, last evening; he took the northern road."
+
+The officer turned on his heel, left the apartment, and gave orders
+which sent some of the horsemen out of the valley, by its various roads,
+at full speed.
+
+Then, re-entering the room, he walked up to Wharton, and said, with some
+gravity, "Now, sir, may I beg to examine the quality of that wig? And if
+I could persuade you to exchange this old surtout for that handsome blue
+coat, I think you never could witness a more agreeable metamorphosis."
+
+Young Wharton made the necessary changes, and stood an extremely
+handsome, well-dressed young man.
+
+"I am Captain Lawton, of the Virginian Horse," said the dragoon.
+
+"And I, sir, am Captain Wharton, of His Majesty's 60th Regiment of
+Foot," returned Henry, bowing.
+
+The countenance of Lawton changed from quaintness to great earnestness,
+as he exclaimed, "Then, Captain Wharton, from my soul I pity you!"
+
+Captain Lawton now inquired if a pedlar named Birch did not live in the
+valley.
+
+"At times only, I believe, sir," replied Mr. Wharton cautiously. "He is
+seldom here; I may say I never see him."
+
+"What is the offence of poor Birch?" asked the aunt.
+
+"Poor!" cried the captain; "if he is poor, King George is a bad
+paymaster."
+
+"I am sorry," said Mr. Wharton, "that any neighbour of mine should incur
+displeasure."
+
+"If I catch him," cried the dragoon, "he will dangle from the limbs of
+one of his namesakes."
+
+In the course of the morning Major Dunwoodie, who was an old friend of
+the family, and the lover of Frances, the younger daughter, arrived,
+took over the command of the troop, and inquired into the case of his
+friend the prisoner.
+
+"How did you pass the pickets in the plains?" he asked.
+
+"In disguise," replied Captain Wharton; "and by the use of this pass,
+for which I paid, and which, as it bears the name of Washington, is, I
+presume, forged."
+
+Dunwoodie caught the paper eagerly, and after gazing at the signature
+for some time, said, "This name is no counterfeit. The confidence of
+Washington has been abused. Captain Wharton, my duty will not suffer me
+to grant you a parole--you must accompany me to the Highlands."
+
+
+_IV.--Justice by Evasion_
+
+
+The Wharton family, by order of Washington, now removed to the
+Highlands, out of the region of warlike operations, and Captain Wharton
+was brought to trial. The court condemned him to execution as a spy
+before nine o'clock on the morning following the trial, the president,
+however, expressing his intention of riding to Washington's headquarters
+and urging a remission of the punishment. But the sentence of the court
+was returned--_approved_. All seemed lost.
+
+"Why not apply to Mr. Harper?" said Frances, recollecting for the first
+time the parting words of their guest.
+
+"Harper!" echoed Dunwoodie, who had joined the family consultation.
+"What of him? Do you know him?"
+
+"He stayed with us two days. He seemed to take an interest in Henry, and
+promised him his friendship."
+
+"What!" exclaimed the youth, in astonishment, "did he know your
+brother?"
+
+"Certainly; it was at his request that Henry threw aside his disguise."
+
+"But," said Dunwoodie, "he knew him not as an officer of the royal
+army?"
+
+"Indeed he did, and cautioned him against this very danger, bidding him
+apply to him when in danger and promising to requite the son for the
+hospitality of the father."
+
+"Then," cried the youth, "will I save him. Harper will never forget his
+word."
+
+"But has he power," said Frances, "to move Washington's stubborn
+purpose?"
+
+"If he cannot," shouted Dunwoodie, "who can? Rest easy, for Henry is
+safe."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was while these consultations were proceeding that a divine of
+fanatical aspect, preceded by Cæsar, sought admission to the prisoner to
+offer him the last consolations of religion, and so persistent were his
+demands that at last he was allowed a private interview. Then he
+instantly revealed himself as Harvey Birch, and proceeded to disguise
+Captain Wharton as Cæsar, the black servant, who had entered the room
+with him. So complete was the make-up that the minister and Wharton
+passed unsuspected through the guard, and it was only when the officer
+on duty entered the room to cheer up the prisoner after his interview
+with the "psalm-singer" that the real Cæsar was discovered, and in
+fright hurriedly revealed that the consoling visitor had been the pedlar
+spy.
+
+The pursuit was headlong and close, but when once the rocky fastnesses
+were reached the heavy-booted dragoons were, for the moment, out of the
+chase, and Harvey Birch conducted Captain Wharton at leisure towards one
+of his hiding-places, while the mountain was encircled by the watchful
+troopers.
+
+
+_V.--Unexpected Meetings_
+
+
+When passing into the Highlands from her now desolated home, Frances
+Wharton had noticed under the summit of one of the rockiest heights, as
+a stream of sunlight poured upon it, what seemed to be a stone hut,
+though hardly distinguishable from the rocks. Watching this place, for
+it was visible from her new home, she had fancied more than once that
+she saw near the hut a form like that of Harvey Birch. Could it be one
+of the places from which he kept watch on the plains below? On hearing
+of her brother's escape, she felt convinced that it was to this hut that
+the pedlar would conduct him, and there, at night, she repaired alone--a
+toilsome and dangerous ascent.
+
+The hut was reached at last, and the visitor, applying her eye to a
+crevice, found it lighted by a blazing fire of dry wood. Against the
+walls were suspended garments fitted for all ages and conditions, and
+either sex. British and American uniforms hung side by side. Sitting on
+a stool, with his head leaning on his hand, was a man more athletic than
+either Harvey or her brother. He raised his face and Frances instantly
+recognised the composed features of Harper. She threw open the door of
+the hut and fell at his feet, crying, "Save him, save my brother;
+remember your promise!"
+
+"Miss Wharton!" exclaimed Harper. "But you cannot be alone!"
+
+"There is none here but my God and you, and I conjure you by His sacred
+Name to remember your promise!"
+
+Harper gently raised her, and placed her on the stool, saying, "Miss
+Wharton, that I bear no mean part in the unhappy struggle between
+England and America, it might now be useless to deny. You owe your
+brother's escape this night to my knowledge of his innocence and the
+remembrance of my word. I could not openly have procured his pardon, but
+now I can control his fate, and prevent his recapture. But this
+interview, and all that has passed between us, must remain a secret
+confined to your own bosom."
+
+Frances gave the desired assurance.
+
+"The pedlar and your brother will soon be here; but I must not be seen
+by the royal officer, or the life of Birch might be the forfeit. Did Sir
+Henry Clinton know the pedlar had communion with me, the miserable man
+would be sacrificed at once. Therefore be prudent; be silent. Urge them
+to instant departure. It shall be my care that there shall be none to
+intercept them."
+
+While he was speaking, the voice of the pedlar was heard outside in loud
+tones. "Stand a little farther this way, Captain Wharton, and you can
+see the tents in the moonshine."
+
+Harper pressed his finger to his lip to remind Frances of her promise,
+and, entering a recess in the rock behind several articles of dress, was
+hid from view.
+
+The surprise of Henry and the pedlar on finding Frances in possession of
+the hut may be imagined.
+
+"Are you alone, Miss Fanny?" asked the pedlar, in a quick voice.
+
+"As you see me, Mr. Birch," said Frances, with an expressive glance
+towards the secret cavern, a glance which the pedlar instantly
+understood.
+
+"But why are you here?" exclaimed her astonished brother.
+
+Frances related her conjecture that this would be the shelter of the
+fugitives for the night, but implored her brother to continue his flight
+at once. Birch added his persuasions, and soon the girl heard them
+plunging down the mountain-side at a rapid rate.
+
+Immediately the noise of their departure ceased Harper reappeared, and
+leading Frances from the hut, conducted her down the hill to where a
+sheep-path led to the plain. There, pressing a kiss on her forehead, he
+said, "Here we must part. I have much to do and far to ride. Forget me
+in all but your prayers."
+
+She reached her home undiscovered, as her brother reached the British
+lines, and on meeting her lover, Major Dunwoodie, in the morning learned
+that the American troops had been ordered suddenly by Washington to
+withdraw from the immediate neighbourhood.
+
+
+_VI.--Last Scenes_
+
+
+The war was drawing to its close when the American general, sitting in
+an apartment at his headquarters, asked of the aide-de-camp in
+attendance, "Has the man I wished to see arrived, sir?"
+
+"He waits the pleasure of your excellency."
+
+"I will receive him here, and alone."
+
+In a few minutes a figure glided in, and by a courteous gesture was
+motioned to a chair. Washington opened a desk, and took from it a small
+but apparently heavy bag.
+
+"Harvey Birch," said he, turning to the visitor, "the time has arrived
+when our connection must cease. Henceforth and forever we must be
+strangers."
+
+"If it be your excellency's pleasure," replied the pedlar meekly.
+
+"It is necessary. You have I trusted most of all. You alone know my
+secret agents in the city. On your fidelity depend not only their
+fortunes, but their lives. I believe you are one of the very few who
+have acted faithfully to our cause, and, while you have passed as a spy
+of the enemy, have never given intelligence that you were not permitted
+to divulge. It is impossible to do you justice now, but I fearlessly
+entrust you with this certificate. Remember, in me you will always have
+a secret friend, though openly I cannot know you. It is now my duty to
+pay you your postponed reward."
+
+"Does your excellency think I have exposed my life and blasted my
+character for money? No, not a dollar of your gold will I touch! Poor
+America has need of it all!"
+
+"But remember, the veil that conceals your true character cannot be
+raised. The prime of your days is already past. What have you to subsist
+on?"
+
+"These," exclaimed Harvey Birch, stretching forth his hands.
+
+"The characters of men much esteemed depend on your secrecy. What pledge
+can I give them of your fidelity?"
+
+"Tell them," said Birch, "that I would not take the gold."
+
+The officer grasped the hand of the pedlar as he exclaimed, "Now,
+indeed, I know you!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was thirty-three years after the interview just related that an
+American army was once more arrayed against the troops of England; but
+the scene was transferred from the banks of the Hudson to those of the
+Niagara.
+
+The body of Washington had long lain mouldering in the tomb, but his
+name was hourly receiving new lustre as his worth and integrity became
+more visible.
+
+The sound of cannon and musketry was heard above the roar of the
+cataract. On both sides repeated and bloody charges had been made. While
+the action was raging an old man wandering near was seen to throw down
+suddenly a bundle he was carrying and to seize a musket from a fallen
+soldier. He plunged headlong into the thick of the fight, and bore
+himself as valiantly as the best of the American soldiers. When, in the
+evening, the order was given to the shattered troops to return to camp,
+Captain Wharton Dunwoodie found that his lieutenant was missing, and
+taking a lighted fusee, he went himself in quest of the body. The
+lieutenant was found on the side of the hill seated with great
+composure, but unable to walk from a fractured leg.
+
+"Ah, dear Tom," exclaimed Dunwoodie, "I knew I should find you the
+nearest man to the enemy!"
+
+"No," said the lieutenant. "There is a brave fellow nearer than myself.
+He rushed out of our smoke to make a prisoner, and he never came back.
+He lies just over the hillock."
+
+Dunwoodie went to the spot and found an aged stranger. He lay on his
+back, his eyes closed as if in slumber, and his hands pressed on his
+breast contained something that glittered like silver.
+
+The subject of his care was a tin box, through which the bullet had
+pierced to find a way to his heart, and the dying moments of the old man
+must have been passed in drawing it from his bosom.
+
+Dunwoodie opened it, and found a paper on which he read:
+
+"Circumstances of political importance, which involve the lives and
+fortunes of many, have hitherto kept secret what this paper reveals.
+Harvey Birch has for years been a faithful and unrequited servant of his
+country. Though man does not, may God reward him for his conduct! GEO.
+WASHINGTON."
+
+It was the spy of the neutral ground, who died as he had lived, devoted
+to his country.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+MRS. CRAIK
+
+
+John Halifax, Gentleman
+
+      Dinah Maria Mulock, whose fame as a novelist rests entirely
+     on "John Halifax, Gentleman," was born at Stoke-upon-Trent,
+     England, on April 20, 1826. She was thirty-one when "John
+     Halifax" came out, and immediately found herself one of the
+     most popular novelists, her story having a great vogue
+     throughout the English-speaking world, and being translated
+     into half a dozen languages, including Greek and Russian. In
+     1864 Miss Mulock married George Lillie Craik, and until her
+     death, on October 12, 1887, she actively engaged herself in
+     literary work. In all, forty-six works stand to her credit,
+     but none show unusual literary power. Even "John Halifax"
+     leaves much to be desired, and its great popularity arises,
+     perhaps, from its sentimental interest. The character of the
+     hero, conceived on the most conventional lines, has at least
+     the charm that comes from the contemplation of a strong and
+     upright man, and although many better stories have not enjoyed
+     one tithe of its popularity, "John Halifax, Gentleman" still
+     deserves to be read as a wholesome and profitable story.
+
+
+_I.--The Tanner's Apprentice_
+
+
+"Get out o' Mr. Fletcher's road, you idle, lounging, little----"
+
+"Vagabond" was no doubt what Sally Watkins, the old nurse of Phineas
+Fletcher, was going to say, but she had changed her mind in looking
+again at the lad, who, ragged and miserable as he was, was anything but
+a "vagabond."
+
+On their way home a downpour of rain had drawn Mr. Fletcher and his son
+Phineas to shelter in the covered alley that led to Sally's house. Mr.
+Fletcher pushed the little hand-carriage in which his weak and ailing
+son was seated into the alley. The ragged boy, who had also been
+sheltering there, lent a hand in bringing Phineas out of the rain, Mr.
+Fletcher saying to him kindly, after Sally's outburst, "Thee need not go
+into the wet. Keep close to the wall, and there will be shelter enough
+both for us and thee."
+
+Mr. Fletcher was a wealthy tanner in Norton Bury. Years ago his wife had
+died, leaving him with their only child, Phineas, now a sickly boy of
+sixteen.
+
+The ragged lad, who had seemed very grateful for the Quaker's kind words
+to him, stood leaning idly against the wall, looking at the rain that
+splashed on the pavement of the High Street. He was a boy perhaps of
+fourteen years; but, despite his serious and haggard face, he was tall
+and strongly built, with muscular limbs and square, broad shoulders, so
+that he looked seventeen or more. The puny boy in the hand-carriage was
+filled with admiration for the manly bearing of the poor lad.
+
+The rain at length gave promise of ceasing, and Mr. Fletcher, pulling
+out his great silver watch, never known to be wrong, said, "Twenty-three
+minutes lost by this shower. Phineas, my son, how am I to get thee home?
+Unless thee wilt go with me to the tanyard--"
+
+Phineas shook his head, and his father then called to Sally Watkins if
+she knew of anyone who would wheel him home. But at the moment Sally did
+not hear, and the ragged boy mustered courage to speak for the first
+time?"
+
+"Sir, I want work; may I earn a penny?" he said, taking off his tattered
+old cap and looking straight into Mr. Fletcher's face. The old man
+scanned the honest face of the lad very closely.
+
+"What is thy name, lad?"
+
+"John Halifax."
+
+"Where dost thee come from?"
+
+"Cornwall."
+
+"Hast thee any parents living?"
+
+The lad answered that he had not, and to many other questions with which
+the tanner plied him he returned straightforward answers. He was
+promised a groat if he would see Phineas safely home when the rain had
+ceased, and was asked if he would care to take the piece of silver now.
+
+"Not till I've earned it, sir," said the Cornish lad. So Mr. Fletcher
+slipped the money into his boy's hand and left them. Only a few words
+were spoken between the two lads for a little while after he had gone,
+and John Halifax stood idly looking across the narrow street at the
+mayor's house, with its steps and porticoes, and its fourteen windows,
+one of which was open, showing a cluster of little heads within. The
+mayor's children seemed to be amused, watching the shivering shelterers
+in the alley; but presently a somewhat older child appeared among them,
+and then went away from the window quickly. Soon afterwards a front door
+was partly opened by someone whom another was endeavoring to restrain,
+for the boys on the other side of the street could hear loud words from
+behind the door.
+
+"I will! I say I will----"
+
+"You sha'n't, Miss Ursula!"
+
+"But I will!" And there stood the young girl, with a loaf in one hand
+and a carving-knife in the other. She hastily cut off a slice of bread.
+
+"Take it, poor boy! You look so hungry," she said. "Do take it!" But the
+door was shut again upon a sharp cry of pain; the headstrong little girl
+had cut her wrist with the knife.
+
+In a little, John Halifax went across and picked up the slice of bread
+which had fallen on the doorstep. At the best of times, wheaten bread
+was then a dainty to the poor, and perhaps the Cornish lad had not
+tasted a morsel of it for months.
+
+Phineas, from the moment he had set eyes on John, liked the lad, and
+living a very lonely life, with no playfellows and no friends of his own
+age, he longed to be friends with this strong-looking, honest youth who
+had come so suddenly into his life, while John had been so tender in
+helping Phineas home that the Quaker boy felt sure he would make a
+worthy friend.
+
+It later appeared that John had heard of his own father as a sad, solemn
+sort of man, much given to reading. He had been described to him as "a
+scholar and a gentleman," and John had determined that he, too, would be
+a scholar and a gentleman. He was only an infant when his father died,
+and his mother, left very poor, had a sore struggle until her own death,
+when the boy was only eleven years old. Since then the lonely lad had
+been wandering about the country getting odd jobs at farms; at other
+times almost starving.
+
+Thus had he wandered to Norton Bury; and now, thanks to Phineas, Mr.
+Fletcher gave him a job at the tannery, although at first the worthy
+Quaker was not altogether sure of John's character.
+
+Soon, however, the two lads were fast friends, and spent much of their
+time together. John Halifax could read, but he had not yet learnt to
+write; so Phineas became his friendly tutor, and repaid his devotion by
+teaching him all he knew.
+
+The years wore away, John Halifax labouring faithfully, if not always
+contentedly, in the tannery; and in time, old Mr. Fletcher finding him
+worthy of the highest trust, John came to be manager of the business,
+and to live in the house of his master. In knowledge, too, he had grown,
+for Phineas had proved a good tutor, and John so apt a pupil that before
+long Phineas confessed that John knew more than himself.
+
+
+_II.--Ursula March_
+
+
+It happened that John and Phineas were spending the summer days at the
+rural village of Enderley, where they lived at Rose Cottage. Enderley
+was not far from Norton Bury, and every day John rode there to look
+after the tannery and the flour-mill which had recently been added to
+Mr. Fletcher's now flourishing business.
+
+This Rose Cottage was really two houses, in one of which the young men
+lived while an invalid gentleman and his daughter occupied the other.
+John Halifax had noted this young lady in his walks across the breezy
+downs, and thought her the sweetest creature he had seen. Later, when he
+got to know that her name was Ursula, he was thrilled with happy
+memories of the little girl who had thrown him the slice of bread, for
+he had heard her called by that same name. He wondered if this might be
+she grown into a young woman.
+
+Ere long he came to know his pretty neighbour, to companion her in rural
+walks. No artist ever painted a more attractive picture than these two
+made stepping briskly across the wind-swept uplands; she with her
+sparkling dark eyes, her great mass of brown curls escaping from her
+hood, and John with his frank, ruddy face, and his fine, swinging, manly
+figure.
+
+Ursula's father, who had come here ailing, died at the cottage, and was
+buried in Enderley churchyard. He had been the same Henry March whose
+life John had saved years before when the Avon was in flood. He was
+cousin to Squire Brithwood, who also owed his life to John on the same
+occasion. Unhappily, Ursula's fortune was left in the keeping of that
+highly undesirable person.
+
+John was very sad at the thought of Ursula leaving the cottage for the
+squire's home at Mythe House, for he knew that she had been happier
+there in the sweet country retreat than she would ever be in the
+ill-conducted household of her guardian. She, too, had regrets at the
+thought of going, as John and she had become fast friends. He told her
+that Mr. Brithwood would probably deny his right to be considered a
+friend of hers, and would not allow his claim to be thought a gentleman,
+though a poor one.
+
+"It is right," he pursued, on her expression of surprise, "that you
+should know who and what I am to whom you are giving the honour of your
+kindness. Perhaps you ought to have known before; but here at Enderley
+we seem to be equals--friends."
+
+"I have indeed felt it so."
+
+"Then you will the sooner pardon my not telling you--what you never
+asked, and I was only too ready to forget--that we are _not_ equals--
+that is, society would not regard us as such, and I doubt if even you
+yourself would wish us to be friends."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Because you are a gentlewoman, and I am a tradesman."
+
+She sat--the eyelashes drooping over her flushed cheeks--perfectly
+silent. John's voice grew firmer, prouder; there was no hesitation now.
+
+"My calling is, as you will hear at Norton Bury, that of a tanner. I am
+apprentice to Abel Fletcher, Phineas's father."
+
+"Mr. Fletcher!" She looked up at him, with a mingled look of kindliness
+and pain.
+
+"Ay, Phineas is a little less beneath your notice than I am. He is rich,
+and has been well educated; I have had to educate myself. I came to
+Norton Bury six years ago--a beggar-boy. No, not quite so bad as that,
+for I never begged. I either worked or starved."
+
+The earnestness, the passion of his tone made Miss March lift her eyes,
+but they fell again.
+
+"Yes, Phineas found me starving in an alley. We stood in the rain
+opposite the mayor's house. A little girl--you know her, Miss March--
+came to the door and threw out to me a bit of bread."
+
+Now indeed she started. "You! Was that you?"
+
+John paused, and his whole manner changed into softness as he resumed.
+
+"I never forgot that little girl. Many a time when I was inclined to do
+wrong, she kept me right--the remembrance of her sweet face and her
+kindness."
+
+That face was pressed against the sofa where she sat. Miss March was all
+but weeping.
+
+"I am glad to have met her again," he went on, "and glad to have been
+able to do her some small good in return for the infinite good she once
+did me. I shall bid her farewell now, at once, and altogether."
+
+A quick, involuntary turn of the hidden face seemed to ask him "Why?"
+
+"Because," John said, "the world says we are not equals; and it would be
+neither for Miss March's honour nor mine did I try to force upon it the
+truth--which I may prove openly one day--that we _are_ equals."
+
+Miss March looked up at him--it were hard to say with what expression,
+of pleasure, of pride, or simple astonishment; perhaps a mingling of
+all; then her eyelids fell. Her left arm was hanging over the sofa, the
+scar being visible enough. John took the hand, and pressed his lips to
+the place where the wound had been.
+
+"Poor little hand--blessed little hand!" he murmured. "May God bless it
+evermore!"
+
+
+_III.--The Rise of John Halifax_
+
+
+After John Halifax had returned to Norton Bury he was seized with fever,
+and for a time his recovery seemed doubtful. In his delirium he called
+aloud for Ursula, and dreamed that she had come to sit with him, asking
+him to live for her sake. Phineas, in his anxiety for his friend,
+brought Ursula to him, and the dream came true, for she did ask him to
+live for her sake.
+
+Not long after his recovery John Halifax became Mr. Fletcher's partner.
+Going to London on behalf of the business, he met there the great
+statesman, Mr. Pitt, who was impressed with the natural abilities of the
+young man. John's reputation for honesty and sound commonsense had now
+grown so great at Norton Bury that when he returned there he found
+himself one of the most respected men in the town.
+
+Although still far from being rich, he was no longer a poor worker, and
+as Ursula was willing to share his life, they boldly determined to be
+married, in spite of her guardian, who asserted that John would never
+touch a penny of Ursula's fortune. They contrived, however, to be happy
+without it, for he refused to go to law to recover his wife's money, and
+was determined he would work honestly to support her.
+
+With the death of old Mr. Fletcher, however, came misfortune, for it was
+found that the tannery was no longer a paying property, and there were
+only the mills to go on with. At this time Ursula's relative, Lord
+Luxmore, who was anxious to see the Catholic Emancipation Bill passed,
+thought he could use John Halifax for his purpose by offering to get him
+returned to parliament for the "rotten borough" of Kingswell, the member
+for which was then elected by only fifteen voters. Twelve of these were
+tenants of Lord Luxmore, and the other three of Phineas. But although
+John would have supported the Bill, he was too honest to let himself be
+elected for a "rotten borough." So he declined, and Luxmore next tried
+to win him over by offering the lease of some important cloth-mills he
+owned; but these he would not take on credit, and he had no money to pay
+for them.
+
+At this juncture, Ursula told Luxmore about the behaviour of his kinsman
+Brithwood, with the result that his lordship went to Brithwood and made
+him turn over the money to her. When John now purchased the lease of the
+mills, his lordship thought that he had secured him firmly, and that
+Halifax would use his great and growing influence with the people of the
+district to further Luxmore's political schemes.
+
+While all this was going on, young Lord Ravenel, the son and heir of
+Luxmore, had been a constant visitor at the Halifax home, and delighted
+in the company of John's daughter. Halifax had now three children: two
+boys, named Guy and Edmund, and Muriel, who, alas! had been born blind.
+Perhaps on account of her infirmity she had been the pet of her parents;
+but she was of a gentle nature, and was beautiful to look upon, even
+with her sightless eyes.
+
+The time for the election of the member for Kingswell had come round,
+and as Luxmore had failed to induce John Halifax to stand, he put up a
+pliable nominee. But he was greatly mistaken in supposing that John
+would use his influence to make the handful of voters, most of whom were
+employed in his mills, vote for Luxmore's man. Instead of that, Halifax
+advised them to be honest, and vote as they thought right; with the
+result that Luxmore promptly evicted them from their homes. But John
+found new homes for them.
+
+As his riches increased, he bought a stately country mansion, named
+Beechwood, not far from Rose Cottage, ever dear in memory to him.
+Another son, Walter, was born there, and everything seemed to smile on
+him in his beautiful country home. Luxmore now sought to injure him by
+diverting the water from his cloth-mills, and leaving his great wheels
+idle. Halifax could have taken him to law; but, instead of that, he set
+up a strange, new-fangled thing, called a steam-engine; and his mills
+did better than ever.
+
+Finding it useless to fight against the resourceful Halifax, Luxmore
+went abroad, and left his son, Lord Ravenel, alone at Luxmore Hall. The
+young man, despite his father's unfriendly conduct, was still a frequent
+visitor at Beechwood, and when poor Muriel died, his grief at her loss
+was only less than that of her parents.
+
+The years passed by, and happiness still reigned at Beechwood; but
+Ravenel had deserted them, until one day John Halifax met him, greatly
+changed from the gentle youth of the past, at Norton Bury. John invited
+him to ride over with him to Enderley.
+
+"Enderly? How strange the word sounds! Yet I should like to see the
+place again," said Ravenel, who decided to accompany John Halifax and
+Phineas Fletcher in their drive back to Beechwood. He inquired kindly
+for all the family, and was told that Guy and Walter were as tall as
+himself, while the daughter----
+
+"Your daughter?" said his lordship, with a start. "Oh, yes; I
+recollect--Baby Maud! Is she at all like--like----"
+
+"No," said John Halifax. Neither said more than this; but it seemed as
+if their hearts warmed to one another, knitted by the same tender
+remembrance.
+
+
+_IV.--The Journey's End_
+
+
+Lord Ravenel had returned to reside again at Luxmore Hall, and his
+visits to Beechwood became as regular as they had been in the old days
+at the Halifax home, when Muriel was alive. It was the society of Maud
+in which his lordship now delighted, though he never forgot the serene
+and happy days he had spent with her blind sister.
+
+Before long, Lord Ravenel sought to be regarded as suitor for the hand
+of Maud, who would thus have become the future Countess of Luxmore. He
+said that he would wait two years for her, if her father wished it; but
+John Halifax would make him no promise, and urged him rather to
+endeavour first to become a more worthy man, so that he might redeem the
+evil reputation which the conduct of his own father had brought upon the
+name of Luxmore.
+
+"Do you recognise what you were born to be?" said Halifax to him. "Not
+only a nobleman, but a gentleman; not only a gentleman, but a man--man
+made in the image of God. Would to heaven that any poor word of mine
+could make you feel all that you are--and all that you might be!"
+
+"You mean, Mr. Halifax, what I might have been--now it is too late."
+
+"There is no such word as 'too late' in the wide world--nay, not in the
+universe."
+
+Lord Ravenel for a time sat silent; then he rose to go, and thanked Mrs.
+Halifax for all her kindness in a voice choked with emotion.
+
+"For your husband, I owe him more than kindness, as perhaps I may prove
+some day; if not, try to believe the best of me you can. Good-bye!"
+
+It was not many weeks after this that the old Earl of Luxmore died in
+France, and it then became known that his son, who now succeeded to the
+title, had voluntarily given up his claims on the estate in order to pay
+the heavy debts of his worthless father.
+
+The home at Beechwood had lost another inmate--for Edmund was now
+married--when Guy, first going to Paris, had later sailed for America.
+Years passed by, and he became a successful merchant in Boston, and then
+one day he wrote home to say he was coming back to the Old Country, and
+was bringing with him his partner.
+
+The ship in which Guy and his friend sailed from America was wrecked,
+and Ursula, in her grief at the supposed loss of her eldest son, seemed
+to be wearing away, when one day a strange gentleman stood in the
+doorway--tall, brown, and bearded--and asked to see Miss Halifax. Maud
+just glanced at him, then rose, and said somewhat coldly, "Will you be
+seated?"
+
+"Maud, don't you know me? Where is my mother?"
+
+The return of the son whom she had given up for dead brought joy again
+to the heart of Ursula, and her health seemed to revive, but it was
+clear that her days were now uncertain. Scarcely less than the delight
+in Guy's return was the discovery that his partner was none other than
+the new Earl of Luxmore, who, as plain Mr. William Ravenel, had by his
+life in America proved John Halifax was right when he said it was not
+too late for him to model his life on lines of true manliness. He had,
+indeed, become all that John had desired of him--a man and a
+gentleman--so that Maud was, after all, to be the Countess of Luxmore.
+
+But the days of John Halifax himself were now drawing to a close, and he
+was not without premonitions of his end; for in his talks with Phineas
+Fletcher, who had remained his faithful companion all these years, he
+spoke as one would speak of a new abode, an impending journey. Death
+came to him very gently one day at sunset, just after he had smiled to
+Phineas, when his old friend, looking towards Lord Luxmore and his
+future bride, who were with a group of the young people, had said, "I
+think sometimes, John, that William and Maud will be the happiest of all
+the children."
+
+He smiled at this, and a little later seemed to be asleep; but when Maud
+came up and spoke to him, he was dead. While he was sleeping thus, the
+Master had called him. His sudden end was so great a shock to the frail
+life of Ursula, that when they buried John Halifax in the pretty
+Enderley churchyard they laid to rest with him his wife of three-and-
+thirty years, who had been a widow but for a few hours.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+GEORGE CROLY
+
+
+Salathiel, or Tarry Thou Till I Come!
+
+      George Croly, the author of "Salathiel," was born at Dublin
+     on August 17, 1780, and became a clergyman of the Church of
+     England. After a short time as curate in the north of Ireland
+     he came to London and devoted himself chiefly to literary
+     pursuits. In 1835 he was presented to the valuable living of
+     St. Stephen's, Walbrook, London, by Lord Brougham, where his
+     eloquent preaching attracted large congregations. It was a
+     saying among Americans of the period, "Be sure and hear
+     Croly!" Croly was a scholar, an orator, and a man of
+     incredible energy. Poems, biographies, dramas, sermons,
+     novels, satires, magazine articles, newspaper leaders, and
+     theological works were dashed off by his facile pen; and,
+     according to Hogg, the Ettrick shepherd, he was great in
+     conversation. Croly's _chef d'oeuvre_ is "Salathiel," which,
+     published in 1829, created a prodigious sensation, Salathiel
+     being the character better known as the Wandering Jew. The
+     description of the fall of Jerusalem is a wonderful piece of
+     sustained eloquence, hardly to be squalled in romantic
+     writings. Croly died on November 24, 1860.
+
+
+_I.--Immortality on Earth_
+
+
+"_Tarry thou till I come_!" The words shot through me. I felt them like
+an arrow in my heart. The troops, the priests, the populace, the world,
+passed from before my senses like phantoms.
+
+Every fibre of my frame quivers as I still hear the echo of the anathema
+that sprang first from my furious lips, the self-pronounced ruin, the
+words of desolation, "His blood be upon us, and our children!"
+
+But in the moment of my exultation I was stricken. He who had refused an
+hour of life to the victim was, in terrible retribution, condemned to
+know the misery of life interminable. I heard through all the voices of
+Jerusalem--I should have heard through all the thunders of heaven, the
+calm, low voice, "Tarry thou till I come!"
+
+I felt at once my fate. I sprang away through the shouting hosts as if
+the avenging angel waved his sword above my head. I was never to know
+the shelter of the grave! Immortality on earth! The perpetual compulsion
+of existence in a world made for change! I was to survive my country.
+Wife, child, friend, even to the last being with whom my heart could
+imagine a human bond, were to perish in my sight. I was to know no limit
+to the weight already crushing me. The guilt of life upon life, the
+surges of an unfathomable ocean of crime were to roll in eternal
+progress over my head. Immortality on earth!
+
+Overwhelmed with despair, I rushed through Jerusalem, crowded with
+millions come to the Passover, and made my way through the Gate of Zion
+to the open country and the mountains that were before me, like a
+barrier shutting out the living world. There, as I lay in an agony of
+fear, my soul seemed to be whirled on the wind into the bosom of a
+thundercloud. I felt the weight of the rolling vapours. I saw a blaze. I
+was stunned by a roar that shook the firmament.
+
+When I recovered it was to hear the trumpet which proclaims that the
+first daily sacrifice is to be offered. I was a priest; this day's
+service fell to me; I dared not shrink from the duty which appalled me!
+Humanity drove me first to my home, where to my unspeakable relief I
+found my wife and child happy and unharmed; then I went to the Temple,
+and began my solemn duties. I was at the altar, the Levite at my side
+holding the lamb, when suddenly in rushed the high priest, his face
+buried in the folds of his cloak, and, grasping the head of the lamb, he
+snatched the knife from the Levite, plunged it into the animal's throat,
+and ran with bloody hands and echoing groans to the porch of the Holy
+House. I hastened up the steps after him, and entered the sanctuary.
+But--what I saw there I have no power to tell. Words were not made to
+utter it. Before me moved things mightier than of mortal vision,
+thronging shapes of terror, mysterious grandeur, essential power,
+embodied prophecy. On the pavement lay the high priest, his lips
+strained wide, his whole frame rigid and cold as a corpse. And the Veil
+was rent in twain!
+
+Fleeing from the Temple, I came into a world of black men. The sun,
+which I had seen like a fiery buckler hanging over the city, was utterly
+gone. As I looked into this unnatural night, the thought smote me that I
+had brought this judgment on the Holy City, and I formed the
+determination to fly from my priesthood, my kindred, and my country, and
+to bear my doom in some barren wilderness.
+
+I ran from the Temple, where priests clung together in pale terror,
+found my wife and child, and bore them away through the panic-stricken
+city. As we journeyed a yell of universal terror made me turn my eyes to
+Jerusalem. A large sphere of fire shot through the heavens, casting a
+pallid illumination on the myriads below. It stopped above the city, and
+exploded in thunder, flashing over the whole horizon, but covering the
+Temple with a blaze which gave it the aspect of metal glowing in a
+furnace. Every pillar and pinnacle was seen with a lurid and terrible
+distinctness. The light vanished. I heard the roar of earthquake; the
+ground rose and heaved under my feet. I heard the crash of buildings,
+the fall of fragments of the hills and, louder than both, the groans of
+the multitude. The next moment the earth gave way, and I was caught up
+in a whirlwind of dust and ashes.
+
+
+_II.--The Son of Misfortune_
+
+
+It was in Samaria I woke. Miriam, my wife, was at my side. A troop of
+our kinsmen, returning from the city, where terror suffered few to
+remain, had discovered us, and brought us with them on their journey.
+
+On this pilgrimage to Naphtali, my native home, my absence from prayer
+and my sadness struck all our kinsmen; and Eleazer, brother of Miriam,
+questioned me thereon. In my bitterness I said to him that I had
+renounced my career among the rulers of Israel. Instead of anger or
+surprise, his face expressed joy. He pointed out to me the tomb of
+Isaiah, to which we were approaching. "There lies," said he, "the heart
+which neither the desert nor the dungeon, nor the teeth of the lion, nor
+the saw of Manasseh could tame--the denouncer of our crimes, the scourge
+of our apostasy, the prophet of that desolation which was to bow the
+grandeur of Judah to the grave."
+
+He drew a copy of the Scriptures from his bosom, and read the famous
+Haphtorah. "Who hath believed our report? and to whom is the arm of the
+Lord revealed? For he shall grow up before him as a tender plant, and as
+a root out of a dry ground; he hath no form nor comeliness; and when we
+shall see him, there is no beauty, that we should desire him. He is
+despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows!" He stopped, laid his
+hand upon my arm, and asked, "Of whom hath the prophet spoken? Him that
+_is to come_, still _to come?_" Then he left me.
+
+Some years passed away; the burden remained upon my soul. One day, as I
+dwelt among my kinsmen in Naphtali, I was watching a great storm, when
+suddenly there stood before me a spirit, accursed and evil, Epiphanes,
+one of those spirits of the evil dead who are allowed from time to time
+to reappear on earth.
+
+"Power you shall have, and hate it," he announced; "wealth and life, and
+hate them. You shall be the worm among a nation of worms--you shall be
+steeped in poverty to the lips--you shall undergo the bitterness of
+death, until----Come," he cried suddenly, "son of misfortune, emblem
+of the nation, that living shall die, and dying shall live; that,
+trampled by all, shall trample on all; that, bleeding from a thousand
+wounds, shall be unhurt; that, beggared, shall wield the wealth of
+nations; that, without a name, shall sway the council of kings; that,
+without a city, shall inhabit in all the kingdoms; that, scattered like
+the dust, shall be bound together like the rock; that, perishing by the
+sword, chain, famine, and fire, shall be imperishable, unnumbered,
+glorious as the stars of heaven."
+
+I was caught up and swept towards Jerusalem. It was the twilight of a
+summer evening. Town and wall lay bathed in a sea of purple; the Temple
+rose from its centre like an island of light; the host of Heaven came
+riding up the blue fields alone; all was the sweetness, calm, and
+splendour of a painted vision. As the night deepened, a murmur from the
+city caught my ear; it grew loud, various, wild; it was soon mixed with
+the clash of arms; trumpets rang, torches blazed along battlements and
+turrets; the roar of battle rose, deepened into cries of agony, swelled
+into furious exultation. "Behold," said the possessed, "these are but
+the beginnings of evil!" I looked up; the spirit was gone. In another
+minute I was plunging into the valley, and rushing forward to the
+battle.
+
+From that moment I became a chieftain of Israel, and as Prince of
+Naphtali led my people against the legions of Rome. I came to be a
+priest, I became a captain. I was ever in the midst of battle; I was
+cast into dungeons; brought to the cross; cast among lions; shipwrecked,
+driven out to sea on a blazing trireme; accused before Nero and Titus;
+exposed a thousand times to death; and yet ever at the extreme moment
+some mysterious hand interfered between my life and its destruction. I
+could not die.
+
+
+_III.--The Abomination of Desolation_
+
+
+And through all these awful years of incessant warfare I was now lifted
+up on a wave of victory to heights of dazzling glory, and now plunged
+down into the abysm of defeat. I saw my wife and children torn from me;
+restored, only to be dragged away again. I saw Rome driven from the Holy
+City, only to see her return in triumph. And all through these maddening
+vicissitudes, suspected by my own people, and knowing my own infamy, I
+heard the voice, "Tarry thou till I come!"
+
+The fall of our illustrious and unhappy city was supernatural. During
+the latter days of the siege, a hostility, to which that of man was as
+the grain of sand to the tempest that drives it on, overpowered our
+strength and senses. Fearful shapes and voices in the air; visions
+startling us from our short and troubled sleep; lunacy in its most
+hideous forms; sudden death in the midst of vigour; the fury of the
+elements let loose upon our unsheltered heads; we had every evil and
+terror that could beset human nature, but pestilence, the most probable
+of all in a city crowded with the famishing, the diseased, the wounded,
+and the dead. Yet, though the streets were covered with the unburied;
+though every wall and trench was teeming; though six hundred thousand
+corpses lay flung over the ramparts, and naked to the sun--pestilence
+came not. But the abomination of desolation, the pagan standard, was
+fixed; where it was to remain until the plough passed over the ruins of
+Jerusalem.
+
+On this fatal night no man laid his head upon his pillow. Heaven and
+earth were in conflict. Meteors burned above us; the ground shook under
+our feet; the volcano blazed; the wind burst forth in irresistible
+blasts, and swept the living and the dead in whirlwinds far off into the
+desert. Thunder pealed from every quarter of the heavens. Lightning, in
+immense sheets, withering eye and soul, burned from the zenith to the
+ground, and marked its track by forests on flame, and the shattered
+summits of hills.
+
+Defence was unthought of; for the mortal enemy had passed from the mind.
+Our hearts quaked from fear, but it was to see the powers of heaven
+shaken. All cast away the shield and the spear, and crouched before the
+descending judgment. Our cries of remorse, anguish, and horror were
+heard through the uproar of the storm. We howled to the caverns to hide
+us; we plunged into the sepulchres, to escape the wrath that consumed
+the living.
+
+I knew the cause, the unspeakable cause; knew that the last hour of
+crime was at hand. A few fugitives, astonished to see one man not sunk
+into the lowest feebleness of fear, besought me to lead them into
+safety. I said they were to die, and pointed them to the hallowed ground
+of the Temple. More, I led them towards it myself. But advance was
+checked. Piles of cloud, whose darkness was palpable even in the
+midnight, covered the holy hill. I attempted to pass through it, and was
+swept downward by a gust that tore the rocks in a flinty shower around
+me.
+
+While I lay helpless, I heard the whirlwind roar through the cloudy
+hill; and the vapours began to revolve. A pale light, like that of the
+rising moon, quivered on their edges; and the clouds rose, and rapidly
+shaped themselves into the forms of battlements and towers. Voices were
+heard within, low and distant, yet strangely sweet. Still the lustre
+brightened, and the airy building rose, tower on tower, and battlement
+on battlement. In awe we knelt and gazed upon this more than mortal
+architecture. It stood full to earth and heaven, the colossal image of
+the first Temple. All Jerusalem saw the image; and the shout that, in
+the midst of their despair, ascended from its thousands and tens of
+thousands told what proud remembrances were there. But a hymn was heard,
+that might have hushed the world. Never fell on mortal ear sound so
+majestic and subduing, so full of melancholy and grandeur and command.
+The vast portal opened, and from it marched a host such as man had never
+seen before, such as man shall never see but once again; the guardian
+angels of the city of David! They came forth glorious, but with woe in
+their steps, tears flowing down their celestial beauty. "Let us go
+hence," was their song of sorrow. "Let us go hence," was announced by
+the echoes of the mountains.
+
+The procession lingered on the summit. The thunder pealed, and they rose
+at the command, diffusing waves of light over the expanse of heaven.
+Then the thunder roared again; the cloudy temple was scattered on the
+winds; and darkness, the omen of her grave, settled upon Jerusalem.
+
+
+_IV.--The Hour of Doom_
+
+
+I was roused by the voice of a man. "What!" said he, "poring over the
+faces of dead men, when you should be foremost among the living? All
+Jerusalem in arms, and yet you scorn your time to gain laurels?" I
+sprang up, and drew my scimitar, for the man was--Roman.
+
+"You should know me," he said calmly; "it is some years since we met,
+but we have not been often asunder."
+
+"Are you not a Roman?" I exclaimed. He denied that nationality, and
+offered me his Roman trappings, cuirass and falchion, saying they would
+help me to money, riot, violence, and vice in the doomed city; "and,"
+said he, "what else do nine-tenths of mankind ask for in their souls?"
+
+He tore his helmet from his forehead, and, with a start of inward pain,
+flung it to a measureless distance in the air. I beheld--Epiphanes! "I
+told you," he said, "that this day would come. One grand hope was given
+to your countrymen; they cast it from them! Ages on ages shall pass
+before they learn the loftiness of that hope, or fulfill the punishment
+of that rejection. Yet, in the fullness of time, light shall break upon
+their darkness. They shall ask: Why are barbarians and civilised alike
+our oppressors? Why do contending faiths join in crushing us alone? Why
+do realms, distant as the ends of the earth, unite in scorn of us?"
+
+"Man of terrible knowledge," I demanded, "tell me for what crime this
+judgment comes?"
+
+"There is no name for it," he said, with solemn fear.
+
+"Is there no hope?" said I, trembling.
+
+"Look to that mountain," was the answer, as he pointed to Moriah. "It is
+now covered with war and slaughter. But upon that mountain shall yet be
+enthroned a Sovereign, before whom the sun shall hide his head. From
+that mountain shall light flow to the ends of the universe, and the
+government shall be of the everlasting."
+
+In a few minutes he had carried me to the city, placed me on a
+battlement, and had disappeared.
+
+Below me war raged in its boundless fury. The Romans had forced their
+way; the Jews were fighting like wild beasts. When the lance was broke,
+the knife was the weapon; when the knife failed, they tore with their
+hands and teeth. But the Romans advanced against all. They advanced till
+they were near the inner temple. A scream of wrath and agony at the
+possible profanation of the Holy of Holies rose from the multitude. I
+leaped from the battlement, called upon Israel to follow me, and drove
+the Romans back.
+
+But Jerusalem was marked for ruin. A madman, prophesying the succour of
+heaven, prevented Israel from surrendering, and thus saving the Temple.
+Infuriated by his words, the populace kept up the strife, and the Temple
+burst into flames. The fire sprang through the roof, and the whole of
+its defenders, to the number of thousands, sank into the conflagration.
+In another minute the inner temple was on fire. I rushed forward, and
+took my post before the veil of the portico, to guard the entrance with
+my blood.
+
+But the legions rushed onward, crying that "they were led by the Fates,"
+and that "the God of the Jews had given his people and city into their
+hands." The torrent was irresistible. Titus rushed in at its head,
+exclaiming that "the Divinity alone could have given the stronghold into
+his power, for it was beyond the hope and strength of man." My
+companions were torn down. I was forced back to the veil of the Holy of
+Holies. I longed to die! I fought, I taunted, covered from head to foot
+in gore. I remained without a wound.
+
+Then came a new enemy--fire. I heard its roar round the sanctuary. The
+Romans fled to the portal. A wall of fire stood before them. They rushed
+back, tore down the veil, and the Holy of Holies stood open.
+
+The blaze melted the plates of the roof in a golden shower above me. It
+calcined the marble floor; it dissipated in vapour the inestimable gems
+that studded the walls. All who entered lay turned to ashes. But on the
+sacred Ark the flame had no power. It whirled and swept in a red orb
+round the untouched symbol of the throne of thrones. Still I lived; but
+I felt my strength giving way--the heat withered my sinews, the flame
+extinguished my sight. I sank upon the threshold, rejoicing that death
+was inevitable. Then, once again, I heard the words of terror. "Tarry
+thou till I come!" The world disappeared before me.
+
+
+_V.--The Pilgrim of Time_
+
+
+Here I pause. I had undergone that portion of my career which was to be
+passed among my people. My life as father, husband, citizen, was at an
+end. Thenceforth I was to be a solitary man. I was to make my couch with
+the savage, the outcast, and the slave. I was to see the ruin of the
+mighty and the overthrow of empires. Yet, in the tumult that changed the
+face of the world, I was still to live and be unchanged.
+
+In revenge for the fall of Jerusalem, I traversed the globe to seek out
+an enemy of Rome. I found in the northern snows a man of blood; I
+stirred up the soul of Alaric, and led him to the sack of Rome. In
+revenge for the insults heaped upon the Jew by the dotards and dastards
+of the city of Constantine, I sought out an instrument of compendious
+ruin. I found him in the Arabian sands, and poured ambition into the
+soul of Mecca. In revenge for the pollution of the ruins of the Temple,
+I roused the iron tribes of the West, and at the head of the Crusaders
+expelled the Saracens. I fed full on revenge, and fed the misery of
+revenge.
+
+A passion for human fame seized me. I drew my sword for Italy;
+triumphed, was a king, and learned to curse the hour when I first
+dreamed of fame. A passion for gold seized me. Wealth came to my wish,
+and to my torment. Days and nights of misery were the gift of avarice.
+In my passion I longed for regions where the hand of man had never
+rifled the mine. I found a bold Genoese, and led him to the discovering
+of a new world. With its metals I inundated the old; and to my misery
+added the misery of two hemispheres.
+
+Yet the circle of passion was not to surround my fated steps for ever.
+Noble aspirations rose in my melancholy heart. I had seen the birth of
+true science, true liberty, and true wisdom. I had lived with Petrarch,
+stood enraptured beside the easel of Angelo and Raphael. I had stood at
+Maintz, beside the wonder-working machine that makes knowledge
+imperishable, and sends it with winged speed through the earth. At the
+pulpit of the mighty man of Wittenberg I had knelt; Israelite as I was,
+and am, I did involuntary homage to the mind of Luther.
+
+At this hour I see the dawn of things to whose glory the glory of the
+past is but a dream. But I must close these thoughts, wandering as the
+steps of my pilgrimage. I have more to tell--strange, magnificent, and
+sad. But I must await the impulse of my heart.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+RICHARD HENRY DANA
+
+
+Two Years Before the Mast
+
+      Richard Henry Dana was born at Cambridge, Massachusetts, on
+     August 1, 1815. He was the son of the American poet who, with
+     W.C. Bryant, founded "The North American Review," and grandson
+     of Francis Dana, for some time United States Minister to
+     Russia, and afterwards Chief Justice of Massachusetts. Young
+     Dana entered Harvard in 1832, but being troubled with an
+     affection of the eyes, shipped as a common sailor on board an
+     American merchant vessel, and made a voyage round Cape Horn to
+     California and back. His experiences are embodied in his "Two
+     Years Before the Mast," which was published in 1840, about
+     three years after his return, when he had graduated at
+     Harvard, and in the year in which he was admitted to the
+     Massachusetts Bar. His best known work gives a vivid account
+     of life at sea in the days of the old sailing ships, touches
+     sympathetically on the hardships of the seafaring life, which
+     its publication helped to ameliorate, and affords also an
+     intimate glimpse of California when it was still a province of
+     Mexico. "If," he writes, "California ever becomes a prosperous
+     country, this--San Francisco--bay will be the centre of its
+     prosperity." He died at Rome on January 7, 1882.
+
+
+_I.--Life on a Merchantman_
+
+
+On August 14 the brig Pilgrim left Boston for a voyage round Cape Horn
+to the western coast of America. I made my appearance on board at twelve
+o'clock with an outfit for a two or three years' voyage, which I had
+undertaken from a determination to cure, if possible, by an entire
+change of life, and by a long absence from books and study, a weakness
+of the eyes.
+
+The vessel got under way early in the afternoon. I joined the crew, and
+we hauled out into the stream, and came to anchor for the night. The
+next day we were employed in preparations for sea. On the following
+night I stood my first watch. During the first few days we had bad
+weather, and I began to feel the discomforts of a sailor's life. But I
+knew that if I showed any sign of want of spirit or of backwardness, I
+should be ruined at once. So I performed my duties to the best of my
+ability, and after a time I felt somewhat of a man. I cannot describe
+the change which half a pound of cold salt beef and a biscuit or two
+produced in me after having taken no sustenance for three days. I was a
+new being.
+
+As we had now a long "spell" of fine weather, without any incident to
+break the monotony of our lives, there can be no better place to
+describe the duties, regulations, and customs of an American
+merchantman, of which ours was a fair specimen.
+
+The captain is lord paramount. He stands no watch, comes and goes when
+he pleases, is accountable to no one, and must be obeyed in everything.
+
+The prime minister, the official organ, and the active and
+superintending officer is the chief mate. The mate also keeps the
+log-book, and has charge of the stowage, safe keeping, and delivery of
+the cargo.
+
+The second mate's is a dog's berth. The men do not respect him as an
+officer, and he is obliged to go aloft to put his hands into the tar and
+slush with the rest. The crew call him the "sailors' waiter," and he has
+to furnish them with all the stuffs they need in their work. His wages
+are usually double those of a common sailor, and he eats and sleeps in
+the cabin; but he is obliged to be on deck nearly all his time, and eats
+at the second table--that is, makes a meal out of what the captain and
+the chief mate leave.
+
+The steward is the captain's servant, and has charge of the pantry, from
+which everyone, including the mate, is excluded. The cook is the patron
+of the crew, and those who are in his favour can get their wet mittens
+and stockings dried, or light their pipes at the galley in the night
+watch. These two worthies, together with the carpenter and the
+sailmaker, if there be one, stand no watch, but, being employed all day,
+are allowed to "sleep in" at night, unless "all hands" are called.
+
+The crew are divided into two watches. Of these the chief mate commands
+the larboard, and the second mate the starboard, being on and off duty,
+or on deck and below, every other four hours. The watch from 4 p.m. to 8
+p.m. is divided into two half, or dog, watches. By this means they
+divide the twenty-four hours into seven instead of six, and thus shift
+the hours every night.
+
+The morning commences with the watch on deck turning-to at daybreak, and
+washing-down, scrubbing, and swabbing the decks. This, with filling the
+"scuttle butt" with fresh water, and coiling up the rigging, usually
+occupies the time until seven bells (half after seven), when all hands
+get breakfast. At eight the day's work begins, and lasts until sundown,
+with the exception of an hour for dinner. The discipline of the ship
+requires every man to be at work upon something when he is up on deck,
+except at night and on Sundays. No conversation is allowed among the
+crew at their duty.
+
+When I first left port, and found that we were kept regularly employed
+for a week or two, I supposed that we were getting the vessel into
+sea-trim, and that it would soon be over, and we should have nothing to
+do but to sail the ship; but I found that it continued so for two years,
+and at the end of two years there was as much to be done as ever. If,
+after all the labour on sails, rigging, tarring, greasing, oiling,
+varnishing, painting, scraping, scrubbing, watching, steering, reefing,
+furling, bracing, making and setting sail, and pulling, hauling, and
+climbing in every direction, the merchants and captains think the
+sailors have not earned their twelve dollars a month, their salt beef
+and hard bread, they keep them picking oakum--_ad infinitum_. The
+Philadelphia catechism is
+
+    Six days shalt thou labour, and do all thou art able,
+    And on the seventh, holystone the decks and scrape the cable.
+
+We crossed the Equator on October 1 and rounded Cape Horn early in
+November. Monday, November 17, was a black day in our calendar. At seven
+in the morning we were aroused from sleep by the cry of "All hands,
+ahoy! A man overboard!" This unwonted cry sent a thrill through the
+heart of everyone, and hurrying on deck we found the vessel hove flat
+aback, with all her studding sails set; for the boy who was at the helm
+left it to throw something overboard, and the carpenter, who was an old
+sailor, knowing that the wind was light, put the helm down and hove her
+aback. The watch on deck were lowering away the quarter-boat, and I got
+on deck just in time to heave myself into her as she was leaving the
+side. But it was not until out on the wide Pacific in our little boat
+that I knew we had lost George Ballmer, a young English sailor, who was
+prized by the officers as an active and willing seaman, and by the crew
+as a lively, hearty fellow and a good shipmate.
+
+He was going aloft to fit a strap round the main-topmast head for
+ringtail halyards, and had the strap and block, a coil of halyards, and
+a marlin spike about his neck. He fell, and not knowing how to swim, and
+being heavily dressed, with all those things around his neck, he
+probably sank immediately. We pulled astern in the direction in which he
+fell, and though we knew that there was no hope of saving him, yet no
+one wished to speak of returning, and we rowed about for nearly an hour,
+unwilling to acknowledge to ourselves that we must give him up.
+
+Death is at all times solemn, but never so much so as at sea; and the
+effect of it remains upon the crew for some time. There is more kindness
+shown by the officers, and by the crew to one another. The lost man is
+seldom mentioned, or is dismissed with a sailor's rude eulogy, "Well,
+poor George is gone! His cruise is up soon. He knew his work, and did
+his duty, and was a good shipmate." We had hardly returned on board with
+our sad report before an auction was held of the POOR man's clothes.
+
+
+_II.--At the Ends of the Earth_
+
+
+On Tuesday, November 25, we reached the Island of Juan Fernandez. We
+were then probably seventy miles from it; and so high did it appear that
+I took it for a cloud, until it gradually turned to a greener and deader
+colour. By the afternoon the island lay fairly before us, and we
+directed our course to the only harbour. Never shall I forget the
+sensation which I experienced on finding myself once more surrounded by
+land as I stood my watch at about three the following morning, feeling
+the breeze coming off shore and hearing the frogs and crickets. To my
+joy I was among the number ordered ashore to fill the water-casks. By
+the morning of the 27th we were again upon the wide Pacific, and we saw
+neither land nor sail again until, on January 13, 1835, we reached Point
+Conception, on the coast of California. We had sailed well to the
+westward, to have the full advantage of the north-east trades, and so
+had now to sail southward to reach the port of Santa Barbara, where we
+arrived on the 14th, after a voyage of 150 days from Boston.
+
+At Santa Barbara we came into touch with other vessels engaged in
+loading hides and tallow, and as this was the work in which we were soon
+to be engaged, we looked on with some curiosity, especially at the
+labours of the crew of the Ayacucho, who were dusky Sandwich Islanders.
+And besides practice in landing on this difficult coast, we experienced
+the difficulties involved in having suddenly to slip our cables and
+then, when the weather allowed of it, coming to at our former moorings.
+From this time until May 8, 1836, I was engaged in trading and loading,
+drying and storing hides, between Santa Barbara, Monterey, San Pedro,
+San Diego, San Juan, and San Francisco.
+
+The ship California, belonging to the same firm, had been nearly two
+years on the coast before she collected her full cargo of 40,000 hides.
+Another vessel, the Lagoda, carrying 31,000 or 32,000, had been nearly
+two years getting her cargo; and when it appeared that we were to
+collect some 40,000 hides besides our own, which would be 12,000 or
+15,000, the men became discontented. It was bad for others, but worse
+for me, who did not mean to be a sailor for life. Three or four years
+would make me a sailor in every respect, mind and habits as well as
+body, and would put all my companions so far ahead of me that college
+and a profession would be in vain to think of.
+
+We were at the ends of the earth, in a country where there is neither
+law nor gospel, and where sailors are at their captain's mercy. We lost
+all interest in the voyage, cared nothing about the cargo, while we were
+only collecting for others, began to patch our clothes, and felt as
+though we were fixed beyond hope of change.
+
+
+_III.--A Tyrannical Captain_
+
+
+Apart from the incessant labour on board ship, at San Pedro we had to
+roll heavy casks and barrels of goods up a steep hill, to unload the
+hides from the carts at the summit, reload these carts with our goods,
+cast the hides over the side of the hill, collect them, and take them on
+board. After we had been employed in this manner for several days, the
+captain quarrelled with the cook, had a dispute with the mate, and
+turned his displeasure particularly against a large, heavy-moulded
+fellow called Sam.
+
+The man hesitated in his speech, and was rather slow in his motions, but
+was a pretty good sailor, and always seemed to do his best. But the
+captain found fault with everything he did. One morning, when the gig
+had been ordered by the captain, Mr. Russell, an officer taken on at
+Santa Barbara, John the Swede, and I heard his voice raised in violent
+dispute with somebody. Then came blows and scuffling. Then we heard the
+captain's voice down the hatchway.
+
+"You see your condition! Will you ever give me any more of your jaw?"
+
+No answer; and then came wrestling and heaving, as though the man was
+trying to turn him.
+
+"You may as well keep still, for I have got you!" said the captain, who
+repeated his question.
+
+"I never gave you any," said Sam, for it was his voice that we heard.
+
+"That's not what I ask you. Will you ever be impudent to me again?"
+
+"I never have been, sir," said Sam.
+
+"Answer my question, or I'll make a spread-eagle of you!"
+
+"I'm no negro slave!" said Sam.
+
+"Then I'll make you one!" said the captain; and he came, to the
+hatchway, sprang on deck, threw off his coat, and, rolling up his
+sleeves, called out to the mate, "Seize that man up, Mr. A--! Seize him
+up! Make a spread-eagle of him! I'll teach you all who is master
+aboard!"
+
+The crew and officers followed the captain up the hatchway, and after
+repeated orders, the mate laid hold of Sam, who made no resistance, and
+carried him to the gangway.
+
+"What are you going to flog that man for, sir?" said John the Swede to
+the captain.
+
+Upon hearing this, the captain turned upon him, but knowing him to be
+quick and resolute, he ordered the steward to bring the irons, and
+calling upon Russell to help him, went up to John.
+
+"Let me alone!" said John. "You need not use any force!" And putting out
+his hands, the captain slipped the irons on, and sent him aft to the
+quarter-deck.
+
+Sam by this time was placed against the shrouds, his jacket off, and his
+back exposed. The captain stood at the break of the deck, a few feet
+from him, and a little raised, so as to have a swing at him, and held in
+his hand the bight of a thick, strong rope. The officers stood round,
+the crew grouped together in the waist. Swinging the rope over his head,
+and bending his body so as to give it full force, the captain brought it
+down upon the poor fellow's back. Once, twice, six times.
+
+"Will you ever give me any more of your jaw?"
+
+The man writhed with pain, but said not a word. Three times more. This
+was too much, and he muttered something which I could not hear. This
+brought as many more as the man could stand, when the captain ordered
+him to be cut down and to go forward.
+
+Then John the Swede was made fast. He asked the captain what he was to
+be flogged for.
+
+"Have I ever refused my duty, sir? Have you ever known me to hang back,
+or to be insolent, or not to know my work?"
+
+"No," said the captain. "I flog you for your interference--for asking
+questions."
+
+"Can't a man ask a question here without being flogged?"
+
+"No!" shouted the captain. "Nobody shall open his mouth aboard this
+vessel but myself!" And he began laying the blows upon the man's back.
+As he went on his passion increased, and the man writhed under the pain.
+My blood ran cold. When John had been cut down, Mr. Russell was ordered
+to take the two men and two others in the boat, and pull the captain
+ashore.
+
+After the day's work was done we went down into the forecastle and ate
+our supper, but not a word was spoken. The two men lay in their berths
+groaning with pain, and a gloom was over everything. I vowed that if
+ever I should have the means I would do something to redress the
+grievances and relieve the sufferings of that poor class of beings of
+whom I was then one.
+
+
+_IV.--I Become a Hide-Curer_
+
+
+The comfort of the voyage was evidently at an end, though I certainly
+had some pleasant days on shore; and as we were continually engaged in
+transporting passengers with their goods to and fro, in addition to
+trading our assorted cargo of spirits, teas, coffee, sugars, spices,
+raisins, molasses, hardware, crockery-ware, tinware, cutlery, clothing,
+jewelry, and, in fact, everything that can be imagined from Chinese
+fireworks to English cartwheels, we gained considerable knowledge of the
+character, dress, and language of the people of California.
+
+In the early part of May I was called upon to take up my quarters for a
+few months at our hide-house at San Diego. In the twinkling of an eye I
+was transformed into a beach-comber and hide-curer, but the novelty and
+the comparative independence of the life were not unpleasant. My
+companions were a Frenchman named Nicholas, and a boy who acted as cook;
+Four Sandwich Islanders worked and ate with us, but generally slept at a
+large oven which had been built by the men of a Russian discovery ship,
+and was big enough to hold six or eight men. Mr. Russell, who was in
+charge, had a small room to himself. On July 18 the Pilgrim returned
+with news. Captain T------ had taken command of a larger vessel, the
+Alert, and the owners, at the request of my friends, had written to
+Captain T------ to take me on board should the Alert return to the
+States before the Pilgrim.
+
+On September 8, I found myself on board the new vessel, and with her
+visited San Francisco, as well as other ports already named. Our crew
+were somewhat diminished; we were short-handed for a voyage round Cape
+Horn in the depth of winter, and so cramped and deadened was the Alert
+by her unusually large cargo, and the weight of our five months stores,
+that her channels were down in the water; while, to make matters even
+more uncomfortable, the forecastle leaked, and in bad weather more than
+half the berths were rendered tenantless. But "Never mind, we're
+homeward bound!" was the answer to everything.
+
+The crew included four boys, regarding two of whom an incident may here
+be chronicled. There was a little boxing-match on board while we were at
+Monterey in December. A broad-backed, big-headed Cape Cod boy, about
+sixteen, had been playing the bully over a slender, delicate-looking boy
+from one of the Boston schools. One day George (the Boston boy) said he
+would fight Nat if he could have fair play. The chief mate heard the
+noise, and attempted to make peace; but, finding it useless, called all
+hands up, ranged the crew in the waist, marked a line on the deck,
+brought the two boys up to it, and made them "toe the mark."
+
+Nat put in his double-fisters, starting the blood, and bringing the
+black-and-blue spots all over the face and arms of the other, whom we
+expected to see give in every moment. But the more he was hurt the
+better he fought. Time after time he was knocked nearly down, but up he
+came again and faced the mark, as bold as a lion, again to take the
+heavy blows, which sounded so as to make one's heart turn with pity for
+him. At length he came up to the mark the last time, his shirt torn from
+his body, his face covered with blood and bruises, and his eyes flashing
+with fire, and swore he would stand there until one or the other was
+killed.
+
+And he set to like a young fury. "Hurrah in the bow!" said the men,
+cheering him on. Nat tried to close with him, but the mate stopped that.
+Nat then came up to the mark, but looked white about the mouth, and his
+blows were not given with half the spirit of his first. He was evidently
+cowed. He had always been master, and had nothing to gain and everything
+to lose; whilst the other fought for honour and freedom, and under a
+sense of wrong. It would not do. It was soon over. Nat gave in, not so
+much beaten as cowed and mortified, and never afterwards tried to act
+the bully on board.
+
+
+_V.--An Adventurous Voyage Home_
+
+
+By Sunday, June 19, we were in lat. 34° 15' S. and long. 116° 38' W.,
+and bad weather prospects began to loom ahead. The days became shorter,
+the sun gave less heat, the nights were so cold as to prevent our
+sleeping on deck, the Magellan clouds were in sight of a clear night,
+the skies looked cold and angry, and at times a long, heavy, ugly sea
+set in from the southward. Being so deep and heavy, the ship dropped
+into the seas, the water washing over the decks. Not yet within a
+thousand miles of Cape Horn, our decks were swept by a sea not half so
+high as we must expect to find there. Then came rain, sleet, snow, and
+wind enough to take our breath from us. We were always getting wet
+through, and our hands stiffened and numbed, so that the work aloft was
+exceptionally difficult. By July 1 we were nearly up to the latitude of
+Cape Horn, and the toothache with which I had been troubled for several
+days had increased the size of my face, so that I found it impossible to
+eat. There was no relief to be had from the impoverished medicine-chest,
+and the captain refused to allow the steward to boil some rice for me.
+
+"Tell him to eat salt junk and hard bread like the rest of them," he
+said. But the mate, who was a man as well as a sailor, smuggled a pan of
+rice into the galley, and told the cook to boil it for me, and not to
+let the "old man" see it. Afterwards, I was ordered by the mate to stay
+in my berth for two or three days.
+
+It was not until Friday, July 22, that, having failed to make the
+passage of the Straits of Magellan, we rounded the Cape, and, sighting
+the island of Staten Land, stood to the northward, and ran for the
+inside of the Falkland Islands. With a fine breeze we crowded on all the
+canvas the ship would bear, and our "Cheerily, men," was given with a
+chorus that might have been heard halfway to Staten Land. Once we were
+to the northward of the Falklands, the sun rose higher in the horizon
+each day, the nights grew shorter, and on coming on deck each morning
+there was a sensible change in the temperature.
+
+On the 20th of the month I stood my last helm, making between 900 and
+1,000 hours at this work, and 135 days after leaving San Diego our
+anchor was upon the bottom in Boston Harbour, and I had the pleasure of
+being congratulated upon my return and my appearance of health and
+strength.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Worlds Greatest Books
+by Arthur Mee, J. A. Hammerton, Eds.
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10643 ***