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diff --git a/10643-h/10643-h.htm b/10643-h/10643-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e24a3b0 --- /dev/null +++ b/10643-h/10643-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,12620 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" + content="text/html; charset=UTF-8" /> + <title>the title</title> + <style type="text/css"> + + body + {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + + p + {text-align: justify;} + + blockquote + {text-align: justify;} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 + {text-align: center;} + + hr + {text-align: center; width: 50%;} + + html>body hr + {margin-right: 25%; margin-left: 25%; width: 50%;} + + hr.full + {width: 100%;} + html>body hr.full + {margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 0%; width: 100%;} + + pre + {font-size: 0.7em; color: #000; background-color: #FFF;} + + .poetry + {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 0%; + text-align: left;} + + .footnote + {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; + font-size: 0.9em;} + + .index + {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; + text-align: center;} + + .figure + {margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%; + text-align: center; font-size: 0.8em;} + .figure img + {border: none;} + + span.rightnote + {position: absolute; left: 92%; right: 1%; + font-size: 0.7em; border-bottom: solid 1px;} + + span.leftnote + {position: absolute; left: 1%; right: 92%; + font-size: 0.7em; border-bottom: solid 1px;} + + span.linenum + {float:right; + text-align: right; font-size: 0.7em;} + </style> +</head> + +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10643 ***</div> + +<h1>THE WORLD'S</h1> +<h1>GREATEST</h1> +<h1>BOOKS</h1> + +<h2>JOINT EDITORS</h2> + +<h3>ARTHUR MEE</h3> +<h4>Editor and Founder of the Book of Knowledge</h4> + +<h3>J. A. HAMMERTON</h3> +<h4>Editor of Harmsworth's Universal Encyclopaedia</h4> + +<h3>VOL. II</h3> +<h3>FICTION</h3> + +<h4>COPYRIGHT, MCMX</h4> + +<hr /> + + + +<p><i>Table of Contents</i></p> + +<a href="#borrow">BORROW, GEORGE</a><br /> + <a href="#borrow1">Lavengro</a><br /> + <a href="#borrow2">Romany Rye</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href="#braddon">BRADDON, M.E.</a><br /> + <a href="#braddon1">Lady Audley's Secret</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href="#bradley">BRADLEY, EDWARD ("COTHBERT BEDE")</a><br /> + <a href="#bradley1">Adventures of Mr. Verdant Green</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href="#bronte">BRONTË, CHARLOTTE</a><br /> + <a href="#bronte1">Jane Eyre</a><br /> + <a href="#bronte2">Shirley</a><br /> + <a href="#bronte3">Villette</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href="#emily">BRONTË, EMILY</a><br /> + <a href="#emily1">Wuthering Heights</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href="#buchanan">BUCHANAN, ROBERT</a><br /> + <a href="#buchanan1">Shadow of the Sword</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href="#bunyon">BUNYAN, JOHN</a><br /> + <a href="#bunyon1">Holy War</a><br /> + <a href="#bunyon2">Pilgrim's Progress</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href="#burney">BURNEY, FANNY</a><br /> + <a href="#burney1">Evelina</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href="#carleton">CARLETON, WILLIAM</a><br /> + <a href="#carleton1">The Black Prophet</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href="#carroll">CARROLL, LEWIS</a><br /> + <a href="#carroll1">Alice's Adventures in Wonderland</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href="#cervantes">CERVANTES</a><br /> + <a href="#cervantes1">Don Quixote</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href="#chamisso">CHAMISSO, ADALBERT VON</a><br /> + <a href="#chamisso1">Peter Schlemihl, the Shadowless Man</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href="#chateaubriand">CHATEAUBRIAND, FRANÇOIS RENÉ DE</a><br /> + <a href="#chateaubriand1">Atala</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href="#cherbuliez">CHERBULIEZ, CHARLES VICTOR</a><br /> + <a href="#cherbuliez1">Samuel Brohl & Co.</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href="#collins">COLLINS, WILKIE</a><br /> + <a href="#collins1">No Name</a><br /> + <a href="#collins2">The Woman in White</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href="#conway">CONWAY, HUGH</a><br /> + <a href="#conway1">Called Back</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href="#cooper">COOPER, FENIMORE</a><br /> + <a href="#cooper1">Last of the Mohicans</a><br /> + <a href="#cooper2">The Spy</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href="#craik">CRAIK, MRS.</a><br /> + <a href="#craik1">John Halifax, Gentleman</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href="#croly">CROLY, GEORGE</a><br /> + <a href="#croly1">Salathiel, or Tarry Thou Till I Come</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href="#dana">DANA, RICHARD HENRY</a><br /> + <a href="#dana1">Two Years before the Mast</a><br /> + +<p>A Complete Index of THE WORLD'S GREATEST BOOKS will be found at the end +of Volume XX.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="borrow">GEORGE BORROW</a></h2> + + +<h3><a name="borrow1">Lavengro</a></h3> + +<blockquote> 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. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--The Scholar, the Gipsy, the Priest</i></h4> + + +<p>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!</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--An Adventure with a Publisher</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--The Spirit of Stonehenge</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"To-morrow for the bookseller! Oh, me!" I exclaimed, as I lay down to +rest.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"But," said I, "our forefathers slaughtered the men who raised the +stones, and left not one stone on another."</p> + +<p>"Yes, they did," said the shepherd, looking aloft at the great +transverse stone.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--The Flaming Tinman</i></h4> + + +<p>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:</p> + +<blockquote> +The Romany chi<br /> +And the Romany chal<br /> +Shall jaw tasaulor<br /> +To drab the bawlor,<br /> +And dook the gry<br /> +Of the farming rye.<br /> +</blockquote> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"All alone here, brother?" said a voice close to me, in sharp, but not +disagreeable tones.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Parraco tute--that is, I thank you, brother. The rikkeni kekaubi is now +mine. O, rare, I thank you kindly, brother!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h3><a name="borrow2">The Romany Rye</a></h3> + +<blockquote> 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. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--The Roving Life</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Here we are, brother," said Mr. Petulengro. "Here we are, and plenty of +us."</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"Good-day to you, sir," said Mrs. Petulengro. "You look as usual, +charmingly, and speak so, too; you have not forgot your manners."</p> + +<p>"It is not all gold that glitters," said Mrs. Chikno. "However, +good-morrow to you, young rye."</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"Is that young female your wife, young man?" said Mrs. Chikno.</p> + +<p>"My wife?" said I.</p> + +<p>"Yes, young man, your wife--your lawful certificated wife?"</p> + +<p>"No," said I. "She is not my wife."</p> + +<p>"Then I will not visit with her," said Mrs. Chikno. "I countenance +nothing in the roving line."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by the roving line?" I demanded.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"It is hard that people may not live in dingles together without being +suspected of doing wrong," said I.</p> + +<p>"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----"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--The Parting of the Ways</i></h4> + + +<p>Belle was sitting before the fire, at which the kettle was boiling.</p> + +<p>"Were you waiting for me?" I inquired.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Belle.</p> + +<p>"That was very kind," said I.</p> + +<p>"Not half so kind," said she, "as it was of you to get everything ready +for me in the dead of last night."</p> + +<p>After tea, we resumed our study of Armenian. "First of all, tell me," +said Belle, "what a verb is?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I have given you no cause to hate me," said Belle, looking me +sorrowfully in the face.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"I am afraid, indeed, it will all end ill," said Belle.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I don't rejoice, whatever you may do," said Belle.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I can't bear this much longer," said Belle.</p> + +<p>"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.'"</p> + +<p>Belle hesitated. "You must admit, Belle, it is much softer than +hntam."</p> + +<p>"It is so," said Belle, "and to oblige you, I will say 'siriem.'"</p> + +<p>"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.'"</p> + +<p>"'Siriem zkiez!'" said Belle. "That last word is very hard to say."</p> + +<p>"Sorry that you think so, Belle," said I. "Now please to say 'siria +zis.'" Belle did so.</p> + +<p>"Now say 'yerani thè sirèir zis,'" said I.</p> + +<p>"'Yerani thè sirèir zis,'" said Belle.</p> + +<p>"Capital!" said I. "You have now said, 'I love you--love me--ah! would +that you would love me!'"</p> + +<p>"And I have said all these things?"</p> + +<p>"You have said them in Armenian," said I.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Why so?" said I. "If you said them, I said them, too."</p> + +<p>"You did so," said Belle; "but I believe you were merely bantering and +jeering."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Then you meant nothing, after all?" said Belle, raising her voice.</p> + +<p>"Let us proceed: sirietsi, I loved."</p> + +<p>"You never loved anyone but yourself," said Belle; "and what's +more----"</p> + +<p>"Sirietsits, I will love," said I; "sirietsies, thou wilt love."</p> + +<p>"Never one so thoroughly heartless."</p> + +<p>"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.'"</p> + +<p>"You do, indeed," said Belle, sobbing.</p> + +<p>"But how do you account for it?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Our ways lie different," said Belle.</p> + +<p>"I don't see why they should," said I. "Come, let us be off to America +together."</p> + +<p>"To America together?" said Belle.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said I; "where we will settle down in some forest, and conjugate +the verb siriel conjugally."</p> + +<p>"Conjugally?" said Belle.</p> + +<p>"Yes; as man and wife in America."</p> + +<p>"You are jesting, as usual," said Belle.</p> + +<p>"Not I, indeed. Come, Belle, make up your mind, and let us be off to +America."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Dear me," said I. "I little expected to find you up so early."</p> + +<p>"I merely lay down in my things," said Belle; "I wished to be in +readiness to bid you farewell when you departed."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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: "<i>Fear God</i>, 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."</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--Horse-Keeping and Horse-Dealing</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>From the old ostler I picked up many valuable hints about horses.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 <i>sangfroid</i>, 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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Well," said I, "thank you for your advice; and, if successful, I will +give you 'summut' handsome."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said the ostler; "and now let me ask whether you are up to +all the ways of this here place?"</p> + +<p>"I've never been here before," said I.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>"A fine horse! A capital horse!" said several of the connoisseurs. "What +do you ask for him?"</p> + +<p>"A hundred and fifty pounds," said I.</p> + +<p>"Why, I thought you would have asked double that amount! You do yourself +injustice, young man."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I do," said I; "but that's my affair. I do not choose to take +more."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"No," said I.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" said the man.</p> + +<p>"Lest you should be a Yorkshireman," said I, "and should run away with +the horse."</p> + +<p>"Yorkshire?" said the man. "I am from Suffolk--silly Suffolk--so you +need not be afraid of my running away with him."</p> + +<p>"Oh, if that's the case," said I, "I should be afraid that the horse +would run away with you!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"Is this horse yours?" said he.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>Close beside him stood a tall youth in a handsome riding dress, and +wearing a singular green hat with a high peak.</p> + +<p>"What do you ask for him?" said the man.</p> + +<p>"A hundred and fifty," said I.</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't mind giving it to you," said he.</p> + +<p>"You will do no such thing," said his lordship. "Sir," said he to me, "I +must give you what you ask."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>His lordship, after a contemptuous look at me and a scowl at the jockey, +stalked out.</p> + +<p>"And now," said the other, "I suppose I may consider myself as the +purchaser of this here animal for this young gentleman?"</p> + +<p>"By no means," said I. "I am utterly unacquainted with either of +you."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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----"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"None whatever," said I.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--A Recruiting Sergeant</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Young man, you are just the kind of person to serve the Honourable East +India Company."</p> + +<p>"I had rather the Honourable Company should serve me," said I.</p> + +<p>"Of course, young man. Take this shilling; 'tis service money. The +Honourable Company engages to serve you, and you the Honourable +Company."</p> + +<p>"And what must I do for the Company?"</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"And the people--what kind are they?"</p> + +<p>"Pah! Kauloes--blacks--a set of rascals! And they calls us lolloes, +which, in their beastly gibberish, means reds. Why do you stare so?"</p> + +<p>"Why," said I, "this is the very language of Mr. Petulengro."</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't wonder," said I, as I proceeded rapidly eastward, "if Mr. +Petulengro came from India. I think I'll go there."</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="braddon">M. E. BRADDON</a></h2> + + +<h3><a name="braddon1">Lady Audley's Secret</a></h3> + +<blockquote> 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 +<b>dramatic <i>dénouement</i></b>. 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. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--The Second Lady Audley</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--The Return of the Gold-Seeker</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Deserted her!" cried Miss Morley.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"So this is what my lady hides in the secret drawer," she said, putting +the little packet in her pocket.</p> + +<p>"Why, Phoebe, you're never going to be such a fool as to take that?" +cried Luke.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--Robert Audley Comes on the Scene</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Bob! I only touched British ground after dark last night, and to think +I should meet you this morning!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"We managed it capitally; but I don't like the portrait," said Robert, +when they had crept back. "There is something odd about it."</p> + +<p>"There is," answered Alicia. "We never have seen my lady look as she +does in that picture; but I think she could look so."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--The Search and the Counter Check</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"You shall never live to do this," she said. "I will kill you +first!"</p> + +<p>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?"</p> + +<p>"No, my love; they had better not try it."</p> + +<p>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?"</p> + +<p>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!"</p> + +<p>"What's too horrible?" said Lady Audley.</p> + +<p>"The thought that is in my mind."</p> + +<p>"I will tell you nothing except that you are a mad woman; and go home." +Lady Audley walked away in the darkness.</p> + + +<h4><i>V.--My Lady Tells the Truth</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Bring Sir Michael," she cried, "and I will confess everything!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 <i>maison de +santé</i>, and would, no doubt, willingly receive Lady Audley into +his establishment, and charge himself with the full responsibility of her +future life.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>"I have done that which I thought was just to others, and merciful to +you," replied Robert. "Live here and repent."</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + + +<h4><i>VI.--The Mystery Cleared Up</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 <i>maladie de longueur</i>. Sir Michael Audley lives in London +with Alicia, who is very shortly to become the wife of Sir Harry Towers, a +sporting Herts baronet.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="bradley">EDWARD BRADLEY ("CUTHBERT BEDE")</a></h2> + + +<h3><a name="bradley1">The Adventures of Mr. Verdant Green</a></h3> + +<blockquote> 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. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--A Very Quiet Party</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>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?"</p> + +<p>"'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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Er--er--thank you very much," said Verdant, in a frightened way; "but I +have never smoked."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Just a small quiet party of hard-working men," said Mr. Smalls. "I hope +you don't object to a very quiet party."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Try back, Verdant," shouted Mr. Larkyns.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--Mr. Verdant Green Does as He Has Been Done By</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Can you direct me to Brazenface College, please, sir?" said the +youthful stranger, flushing like a girl.</p> + +<p>"This is Brazenface College," said Mr. Bouncer, looking very important. +"And, pray, what is your business here and your name?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Mr. Verdant Green took his cue with astonishing aptitude and glared +through his glasses at the trembling, blushing Mr. Pucker.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"First class of an uncommon slow train!" muttered Mr. Bouncer.</p> + +<p>"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:</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>HISTORY.</p> + +<p>"1. Show the strong presumption there is, that Nox was the god of +battles.</p> + +<p>"2. In what way were the shades on the banks of the Styx supplied with +spirits?</p> + +<p>"3. Give a brief account of the Roman emperors who visited the United +States, and state what they did there.</p> + +<p>EUCLID.</p> + +<p>"1. Show the fallacy of defining an angle, as a worm at one end and a +fool at the other.</p> + +<p>"2. If a freshman <i>A</i> have any mouth <i>x</i> and a bottle of wine +<i>y</i>, show how many applications of <i>x</i> to <i>y</i> will place +<i>y</i>+<i>y</i> before <i>A</i>.</p> + +<p>"3. Find the value of a 'bob,' a 'tanner,' a 'joey,' a 'tizzy,' a +'poney,' and a 'monkey.'</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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 <i>vivâ voce</i>, 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?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Pucker grew redder and hotter than before, and gasped like a fish +out of water.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"But I have been examined," Mr. Pucker kept on saying dejectedly. "I +have been examined, and they rejected me."</p> + +<p>"I think it was an 'oax, sir," said Filcher.</p> + +<p>"A what!" stammered Mr. Pucker.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"You didn't tell 'im about the 'oax, sir, did yer?" asked the scout +anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Not a word," said the radiant Mr. Pucker.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--Town and Gown</i></h4> + + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Now for a toast, gentlemen," said Mr. Bouncer. "May the Gown give the +Town a jolly good hiding!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Oh, this is painful," said the Rev. Thomas Tozer, putting the +handkerchief to his bleeding nose. "This is painful! This is exceedingly +painful, gentlemen!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Why have you not on your gown, sir?" he said to the Putney Pet.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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?</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>GREEN, VERDANT, È. Coll. AEn. Fac. Quiæstionibus +Magistrorum Scholarum in Parviso pro forma respondit.</p> + +<blockquote> + Ita testamur (GULIELMUS +SMITH.<br /> + (ROBERTUS JONES.<br /> + +</blockquote> + +<p>In other words, Mr. Verdant Green had got through his Smalls. But, sad +to say, poor Mr. Bouncer had been plucked.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<hr /> + + + +<h2><a name="bronte">CHARLOTTE BRONTË</a></h2> + + +<h3><a name="bronte1">Jane Eyre</a></h3> + +<blockquote> 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. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--The Master of Thornfield Hall</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Fairfax," I called out, "did you hear that laugh? Who is it?"</p> + +<p>"Some of the servants very likely," she answered; "perhaps Grace +Poole."</p> + +<p>The laugh was repeated in a low tone, and terminated in an odd +murmur.</p> + +<p>"Grace!" exclaimed Mrs. Fairfax.</p> + +<p>I didn't expect Grace to answer, for the laugh was preternatural.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, the door nearest me opened, and a servant came out--a set, +square-made figure, with a hard, plain face.</p> + +<p>"Too much noise, Grace," said Mrs. Fairfax. "Remember directions!"</p> + +<p>Grace curtseyed silently, and went in.</p> + +<p>Not unfrequently after that I heard Grace Poole's laugh and her +eccentric murmurs, stranger than her laugh.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Can I do anything?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"If you are hurt and want help, sir," I remarked, "I can fetch someone, +either from Thornfield Hall or from Hay."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, I shall do. I have no broken bones, only a sprain." And he +limped to the stile.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>He waved me to go, but I said:</p> + +<p>"I cannot think of leaving you in this solitary lane till you are fit to +mount your horse."</p> + +<p>"You ought to be at home yourself," said he. "Where do you come +from?"</p> + +<p>"From just below."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean that house with the battlements?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"Whose house is it?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Rochester's."</p> + +<p>"Do you know Mr. Rochester?"</p> + +<p>"No, I have never seen him."</p> + +<p>"You are not a servant at the Hall, of course. You are--"</p> + +<p>"I am the governess."</p> + +<p>"Ah, the governess!" he repeated. "Deuce take me if I had not forgotten! +Excuse me," he continued, "necessity compels me to make you useful."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"What dog is this?"</p> + +<p>"He came with master, who has just arrived. He has had an accident, and +his ankle is sprained."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Here is Miss Eyre, sir," said Mrs. Fairfax, in her quiet way.</p> + +<p>Mr. Rochester bowed, still not taking his eyes from the group of the dog +and the child.</p> + +<p>I sat down, disembarrassed. Politeness might have confused me; caprice +laid me under no obligation.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Fairfax seemed to think someone should be amiable, and she began to +talk.</p> + +<p>"Madam, I should like some tea," was the sole rejoinder she got.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"I have none."</p> + +<p>"I thought not. And so you were waiting for your people when you sat on +that stile?"</p> + +<p>"For whom, sir?"</p> + +<p>"For the men in green. Did I break through one of your rings that you +spread that ice on the causeway?"</p> + +<p>I shook my head.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Fairfax dropped her knitting, wondering what sort of talk this was, +and remarked that Miss Eyre had been a kind and careful teacher.</p> + +<p>"Don't trouble yourself to give her a character," returned Mr. +Rochester. "I shall judge for myself. She began by felling my horse."</p> + +<p>"You said Mr. Rochester was not peculiar, Mrs. Fairfax," I remonstrated, +when I rejoined her in her room after putting Adela to bed.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--The Mystery of the Third Floor</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"I have found it all out," said he; "it is as I thought. You are no +talking fool. Say nothing about it."</p> + +<p>He held out his hand as we parted. I gave him mine; he took it in both +his own.</p> + +<p>"You have saved my life. I have a pleasure in owing you so immense a +debt. I feel your benefits no burden, Jane."</p> + +<p>Strange energy was in his voice.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Company now came to the hall, including the beautiful Miss Ingram, whom +rumour associated with Mr. Rochester, as I heard from Mrs. Fairfax.</p> + +<p>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?"</p> + +<p>"A stranger! no; I expected no one; did he give his name?"</p> + +<p>"His name is Mason, sir, and he comes from the West Indies."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Do you feel ill, sir?" I inquired.</p> + +<p>"Jane, I've got a blow; I've got a blow, Jane!" he staggered.</p> + +<p>Then he sat down and made me sit beside him.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Can I help you, sir? I'd give my life to serve you."</p> + +<p>"Jane, if aid is wanted, I'll seek it at your hands."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, sir; tell me what to do."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>He spoke cheerfully, and the gay tones set my heart at ease.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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!"</p> + +<p>A chamber door opened; someone rushed along the gallery. Another step +stamped on the floor above, and something fell. Then there was silence.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Are you up and dressed?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Then come out quietly."</p> + +<p>Mr. Rochester stood in the gallery holding a light.</p> + +<p>"Bring a sponge and some volatile salts," said he.</p> + +<p>I did so, and followed him.</p> + +<p>"You don't turn sick at the sight of blood?"</p> + +<p>"I think not; I have never been tried yet."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Here, Jane!" he said.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Mr. Rochester took the sponge, dipped it in water, moistened the +corpse-like face, and applied my smelling-bottle to the nostrils.</p> + +<p>Mr. Mason unclosed his eyes and murmured: "Is there immediate +danger?"</p> + +<p>"Pooh!--a mere scratch! I'll fetch a surgeon now, and you'll be able to +be removed by the morning."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Two hours later the surgeon came and removed the injured man.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--The Shadowy Walk</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"And you must have become in some degree attached to it?"</p> + +<p>"I am attached to it, indeed."</p> + +<p>"Pity!" he said, and paused.</p> + +<p>"Must I move on, sir?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"I believe you must, Jane."</p> + +<p>This was a blow, but I did not let it prostrate me.</p> + +<p>"Then you are going to be married, sir?"</p> + +<p>"In about a month I hope to be a bridegroom. We have been good friends, +Jane, have we not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"Here is the chestnut-tree; come, we will sit here in peace to-night." +He seated me and himself.</p> + +<p>"Jane, do you hear the nightingale singing in the wood? Listen!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Because you are sorry to leave it?"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Where do you see the necessity?" he asked suddenly.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"As we are!" repeated Mr. Rochester, gathering me to his heart and +pressing his lips on my lips. "So, Jane!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, so, sir!" I replied. "I have spoken my mind, and can go anywhere +now. Let me go!"</p> + +<p>"Jane, be still; don't struggle so, like a wild, frantic bird, rending +its own plumage in its desperation."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Another effort set me at liberty, and I stood erect before him.</p> + +<p>"And your will shall decide your destiny," he said. "I offer you my +hand, my heart, and a share in all my possessions."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.'"</p> + +<p>"Are you in earnest? Do you love me? Do you sincerely wish me to be your +wife?"</p> + +<p>"I do. I swear it!"</p> + +<p>"Then, sir, I will marry you."</p> + +<p>"God pardon me, and man meddle not with me. I have her, and will hold +her!"</p> + +<p>But what had befallen the night? And what ailed the chestnut-tree? It +writhed and groaned, while the wind roared in the laurel walk.</p> + +<p>"We must go in," said Mr. Rochester; "the weather changes."</p> + +<p>He hurried me up the walk, but we were wet before we could pass the +threshold.</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--The Mystery Explained</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>"What is the nature of the impediment?" asked the clergyman.</p> + +<p>"It simply consists in the existence of a previous marriage," said the +speaker. "Mr. Rochester has a wife now living."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Mason, have the goodness to step forward," said the stranger.</p> + +<p>"Are you aware, sir, whether or not this gentleman's wife is still +living?" inquired the clergyman.</p> + +<p>"She is now living at Thornfield Hall," said Mason, with white lips. "I +saw her there last April. I am her brother."</p> + +<p>I saw a grim smile contract Mr. Rochester's lip.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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!</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>V.--Reunion</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"I am coming!" I cried. "Wait for me!" I ran out into the garden; it was +void.</p> + +<p>"Down, superstition!" I commented, as that spectre rose up black by the +black yew at the gate.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Then I rose from the thanksgiving, took a resolve, and lay down, +unscared, enlightened, eager but for the daylight.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Where, meantime, was the hapless owner?</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Is Mr. Rochester living at Thornfield Hall now?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Was it known how it originated?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Were any other lives lost?"</p> + +<p>"No. Perhaps it would have been better if there had. Poor Mr. Edward! He +is stone-blind."</p> + +<p>I had dreaded he was mad.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Where does he live now?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Mary," I said, "how are you?"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Mary proceeded to fill a glass with water and place it on a tray, +together with candles.</p> + +<p>"Give the tray to me; I will carry it in."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter?" inquired Mr. Rochester.</p> + +<p>He put out his hand with a quick gesture. "Who is this?" he demanded +imperiously.</p> + +<p>"Will you have a little more water, sir? I spilt half of what was in the +glass," I said.</p> + +<p>"What is it? Who speaks?"</p> + +<p>"Pilot knows me, and John and Mary know I am here," I answered.</p> + +<p>He groped, and, arresting his wandering hand, I prisoned it in both +mine.</p> + +<p>"Her very fingers! Her small, slight fingers! Is it Jane--Jane Eyre?" he +cried.</p> + +<p>"My dear master, I am Jane Eyre. I have found you out; I am come back to +you!"</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h3><a name="bronte2">Shirley</a></h3> + +<blockquote> "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." </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--In the Dark Days of the War</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Are you certain, Robert, you are not fretting about your frames and +your business, and the war?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Not just now."</p> + +<p>"Are you positive you don't feel Hollow's cottage too small for you, and +narrow, and dismal?"</p> + +<p>"At this moment, no."</p> + +<p>"Can you affirm that you are not bitter at heart because rich and great +people forget you?"</p> + +<p>"No more questions. I am not anxious to curry favour with rich and great +people. I only want means--a position--a career."</p> + +<p>"Which your own talent and goodness shall win for you. You were made to +be great; you shall be great."</p> + +<p>"Ah! You judge me with your heart; you should judge me with your +head."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>For Caroline Helstone was a fatherless and portionless girl, entirely +dependent on her uncle, the vicar of Briarfield.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--The Master of Hollows Mill</i></h4> + + +<p>"Come, child, put away your books. Lock them up! Get your bonnet on; I +want you to make a call with me."</p> + +<p>"With you, uncle?"</p> + +<p>Thus the Rev. Matthewson Helstone, the imperious little vicar of +Briarfield, to his niece, who, obeyed his unusual request, asked where they +were going.</p> + +<p>"To Fieldhead," replied the Rev. Matthewson Helstone. "We are going to +see Miss Shirley Keeldar."</p> + +<p>"Miss Keeldar! Is she come to Yorkshire?"</p> + +<p>"She is; and will reside for a time on her property."</p> + +<p>The Keeldars were the lords of the manor, and their property included +the mill rented by Mr. Robert Moore.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Those of a tradesman," returned the rector; "narrow, selfish, and +unpatriotic."</p> + +<p>"He looks a gentleman, and it pleases me to think he is such."</p> + +<p>"And decidedly he is," joined in Caroline, in distinct tones.</p> + +<p>"You are his friend, at any rate," said Shirley, flashing a searching +glance at the speaker.</p> + +<p>"I am both his friend and relative."</p> + +<p>"I like that romantic Hollow with all my heart--the old mill, and the +white cottage, and the counting-house."</p> + +<p>"And the trade?" inquired the rector.</p> + +<p>"Half my income comes from the works in that Hollow."</p> + +<p>"Don't enter into partnership, that's all."</p> + +<p>"You've put it into my head!" she exclaimed, with a joyous laugh. "It +will never get out; thank you."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Do you know what soothsayers I would consult?" asked Caroline.</p> + +<p>"Let me hear."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Is it Robert?"</p> + +<p>"It is Robert."</p> + +<p>"Handsome fellow!" said Shirley, with enthusiasm. "He is both graceful +and good."</p> + +<p>"I was sure that you would see that he was. When I first looked at your +face I knew that you would."</p> + +<p>"I was well inclined to him before I saw him; I liked him when I did see +him; I admire him now."</p> + +<p>When they kissed each other and parted at the rectory gate, Shirley +said:</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--Caroline Finds a Mother</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"We must be on the alert," said Caroline, "and perhaps we shall find a +clue."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"He cannot be alone," whispered Caroline.</p> + +<p>"I would stake all I have that he is as little alone as he is alarmed," +responded Shirley.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Caroline Helstone now fell into a state of depression and physical +weakness which she tried in vain to combat.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I love you," was the reply, "and I should like to live with +you."</p> + +<p>"All I have I would leave to you."</p> + +<p>"But, my dear madam, I have no claim on this generosity--"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pryor now displayed such agitation that it was Caroline who had to +become comforter.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>One day, when the watchful nurse could not forbear to weep--her full +heart overflowing--her patient asked:</p> + +<p>"Do you think I shall not get better? I do not feel very ill--only +weak."</p> + +<p>"But your mind, Caroline; your mind is crushed; your heart is broken; +you have been left so desolate."</p> + +<p>"I sometimes think if an abundant gush of happiness came on me, I could +revive yet."</p> + +<p>"You love me, Caroline?"</p> + +<p>"Inexpressibly. I sometimes feel as if I could almost grow to your +heart."</p> + +<p>"Then, if you love me so, it will be neither shock nor pain for you to +know that you are my own child."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Pryor! That is--that means--you have adopted me?"</p> + +<p>"It means that I am your true mother."</p> + +<p>"But Mrs. James Helstone--but my father's wife, whom I do not remember +to have seen, she is my mother?"</p> + +<p>"She is your mother," Mrs. Pryor assured her. "James Helstone was my +husband."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--An Old Acquaintance</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course; I knew it well."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I never made it a secret; you never asked me who Henry's tutor was, or +I would have told you."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"She could not bear to be quite outcast," was the docile reply.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>It was after this talk that Moore was shot down by a concealed +assassin.</p> + + +<h4><i>V.--Love Scenes</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Caroline, you look as if you had heard good tidings," said Robert. +"What is the source of the sunshine I perceive about you?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"But I believe I know all about it. I inferred something, gathered more +from rumour, and made out the rest by instinct."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Then, Robert, it was very wicked in you to want to marry her."</p> + +<p>"And very mean, my little pastor; but, Cary, I had no love to give--no +heart that I could call my own."</p> + +<p>It is Louis who is once more speaking to Shirley in the schoolroom.</p> + +<p>"For the first time, Shirley, I stand before you--myself. I fling off +the tutor and introduce you to the man. My pupil."</p> + +<p>"My master," was the low answer.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Your heavy difficulties are lifted?"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>His hand was in hers still, and a gentle pressure answered him, +"Caroline is yours."</p> + +<p>"I love you, Robert," she said simply, and mutely offered a kiss, an +offer of which he took unfair advantage.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h3><a name="bronte3">Villette</a></h3> + +<blockquote> 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." </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--Little Miss Caprice</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Put me down, please," said a small voice. "Take off the shawl; give it +to Harriet, and she can put it away."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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?"</p> + +<p>"Polly, papa calls her," was the reply.</p> + +<p>"And will Polly be content to live with me?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Her emotion at finding herself among strangers was, however, only +expressed by the tiniest occasional sniff, and presently the managing +little body remarked:</p> + +<p>"Harriet, I must be put to bed. Ask if you sleep with me."</p> + +<p>"No, missy," said the nurse; "you are to share this young lady's +room"--designating me.</p> + +<p>"I wish you, ma'am, good-night," said the little creature to Mrs. +Bretton; but she passed me mute.</p> + +<p>"Good-night, Polly," I said.</p> + +<p>"No need to say good-night, since we sleep in the same chamber," was the +reply.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Miss Snowe," said she, "this is a wonderful book. It was given me by +Graham. It tells of distant countries."</p> + +<p>"Polly," I interrupted, "should you like to travel?"</p> + +<p>"Not just yet," was the prudent answer; "but perhaps when I am grown a +woman I may travel with Graham."</p> + +<p>"But would you like to travel now if your papa was with you?"</p> + +<p>"What is the good of talking in that silly way?" said she. "What is papa +to you? I was just beginning to be happy."</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>On going to bed, I found the child wide awake, and in what she called +"dreadful misery!"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Her questioning eyes asked why.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"But I love him so much. He should love me a little."</p> + +<p>"He does. He is fond of you; you are his favourite."</p> + +<p>"Am I Graham's favourite?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, more than any little child I know."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--Madame Beck's School</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>I sat, turning hot and cold, in a glittering salon for a quarter of an +hour, and then a voice said: "You ayre Engliss?"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Who goes out now?" demanded Madame Beck, listening to the tread.</p> + +<p>"M. Paul Emanuel," replied the teacher.</p> + +<p>"The very man! Call him."</p> + +<p>He entered: a small, dark, and square man, in spectacles.</p> + +<p>"<i>Mon cousin</i>," began madame, "read that countenance."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Do you need her services?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I could do with them," said Madame Beck.</p> + +<p>"Engage her." And with a <i>ban soir</i> this sudden arbiter of my +destiny vanished.</p> + +<p>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?</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"He is handsome; he loves me to distraction; and so I am amused," was +the reply.</p> + +<p>"But if he loves you, and it comes to nothing in the end, he will be +miserable."</p> + +<p>"Of course he will break his heart. I should be disappointed if he +didn't."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"You love M. Isidore far more than you think or will avow."</p> + +<p>"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. +<i>Vive les joies et les plaisirs</i>!"</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>"What can I do for you?" I inquired.</p> + +<p>"Play you must. I will not have you shrink, or frown, or make the prude. +Let us thrust to the wall all reluctance."</p> + +<p>What did the little man mean?</p> + +<p>"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'?"</p> + +<p>Seeing in his vexed, fiery and searching eye an appeal behind its +menace, my lips dropped the word "Oui."</p> + +<p>His rigid countenance relaxed with a quiver of content; then he went +on:</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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!</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--Old Friends are Best</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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!"</p> + +<p>"Graham!" echoed a sudden voice at my bedside. "Do you want Graham?"</p> + +<p>She was little changed; something sterner, something more robust, but it +was my godmother, Mrs. Bretton.</p> + +<p>"How was I found, madam?"</p> + +<p>"My son shall tell you by and by," said she. "I am told you are an +English teacher in a foreign school here."</p> + +<p>Before evening I was downstairs, and seated in a corner, when Graham +arrived home, and entered with the question: "How is your patient, +mamma?"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Much better," I said calmly; "much better, I thank you Dr. John."</p> + +<p>For this tall young man, this host of mine, was Dr. John, and I had been +aware of his identity for some time.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--A Cure for First Love</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Miss Fanshawe is here," I whispered. "Have you noticed her?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"What neighbours?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Never before had I seen so much fire and so little sunshine in Dr. +John's blue eyes.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + + +<h4><i>V.--Reunion Completed</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"She is very light," he said; "like a child."</p> + +<p>"I am not a child! I am a person of seventeen!" responded his burden, +demurely.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>When next I visited the Bretton's château I found an intruder in the +room I had occupied during my illness.</p> + +<p>"Miss de Bassompièrre, I pronounced, recognising the rescued +lady, whose name I had heard on the night of the accident.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Nothing," she replied; "but we are grown strange to each other."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>It was after this that she made me her confession of love, and of fear +lest her father should be grieved.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"Take her, John Bretton," he said, "and may God deal with you as you +deal with her!"</p> + + +<h4><i>VI.--A Professor's Love-Story</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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?"</p> + +<p>"Monsieur, how could I live in the interval?" was my reply.</p> + +<p>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?</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>We were now returning from our walk, when, passing a small but pleasant +and neat abode in a clean <i>faubourg</i>, he took a key from his pocket, +opened, and entered. "<i>Voici!</i>" he cried, and put a prospectus in my +hand. "Externat de demoiselles. Numéro 7, Faubourg Clotilde. +Directrice, Mademoiselle Lucy Snowe."</p> + +<p>"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----"</p> + +<p>I touched his hand with my lips. Royal to me had been its bounty.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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!</p> + +<p>Here pause. Enough is said. Trouble no kind heart. Leave sunny +imaginations hope. Let them picture union and a happy life.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="emily">EMILY BRONTË</a></h2> + + +<h3><a name="emily1">Wuthering Heights</a></h3> + +<blockquote> "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. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--A Surly Brood</i></h4> + + +<p>"Mr. Heathcliff?"</p> + +<p>A nod was the answer.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Lockwood, your new tenant at Thrushcross Grange, sir."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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 +<i>vis-à-vis</i> 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.</p> + +<p>"What the devil is the matter?" asked Heathcliff, as he returned.</p> + +<p>"What the devil, indeed!" I muttered. "You might as well leave a +stranger with a brood of tigers!"</p> + +<p>"They won't meddle with persons who touch nothing," he remarked. "The +dogs are right to be vigilant. Take a glass of wine."</p> + +<p>Before I went home I determined to volunteer another visit to my sulky +landlord, though evidently he wished for no repetition of my intrusion.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The snow had fallen so deeply since I entered the house that return +across the moor in the dusk was impossible.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"The master, Heathcliff, must have had some ups and downs to make him +such a churl. Do you know anything of his history?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>I asked Mrs. Dean to bring her sewing, and continue the story. This she +did, evidently pleased to find me companionable.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--The Story Runs Backward</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Old Mr. Earnshaw died quietly in his chair by the fireside one October +evening.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>"First and foremost," I said sententiously, "do you love Mr. Edgar?"</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"Then," said I, "all seems smooth and easy. Where is the obstacle?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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?"</p> + +<p>Something stirred in the porch, and, moving nearer, I saw a tall man, +dressed in dark clothes, with dark hair and face.</p> + +<p>"What," I cried, "you come back?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Nelly. You needn't be so disturbed. I want one word with your +mistress."</p> + +<p>I went in, and explained to Mr. Edgar and Catherine who was waiting +below.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Edgar darling," she panted, flinging her arms round his neck, +"Heathcliff's come back--he is!"</p> + +<p>"Well, well," he said, "don't strangle me for that. There's no need to +be frantic. Try to be glad without being absurd!"</p> + +<p>When Heathcliff came in, she seized his hands and laughed like one +beside herself.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Well, I argued, and refused, but in the long run he forced me to agree +to put a missive into Mrs. Linton's hand.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Cathy, how can I bear it?" was the first sentence he uttered.</p> + +<p>"You and Edgar have broken my heart, Heathcliff," was her reply. "You +have killed me and thriven on it, I think."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"I shall not be at peace," moaned Catherine.</p> + +<p>"Why did you despise me? Why did you betray your own heart? You loved +me. What right had you to leave me?"</p> + +<p>"Let me alone!" sobbed Catherine. "I've done wrong, and I'm dying for +it! Forgive me!"</p> + +<p>That night was born the Catherine you, Mr. Lockwood, saw at the Heights, +and her mother's spirit was at home with God.</p> + +<p>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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--The Story Runs Forward</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, very well," I replied hesitatingly.</p> + +<p>Whereupon she became more communicative, and told me how dull she was +now Heathcliff had taken her books away.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Is Mrs. Dean within?" I demanded.</p> + +<p>"Mistress Dean? Nay!" she answered. "She doesn't bide here; shoo's up at +th' Heights."</p> + +<p>"Are you housekeeper, then?"</p> + +<p>"Eea, aw keep th' house," she replied.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm Mr. Lockwood, the master. Are there any rooms to lodge me in, +I wonder? I wish to stay all night."</p> + +<p>"T' maister!" she cried in astonishment. "Yah sud ha' sent word. They's +nowt norther dry nor mensful abaht t' place!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Con-<i>trary</i>!" said a voice as sweet as a silver bell "That for the +third time, you dunce! I'm not going to tell you again."</p> + +<p>"Contrary, then," answered another in deep but softened tones. "And now +kiss me for minding so well."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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?"</p> + +<p>"No, from the Grange," I replied; "and while they make me a lodging room +there I want to finish my business with your master."</p> + +<p>"What business, sir?" said Nelly.</p> + +<p>"About the rent," I answered.</p> + +<p>"Oh, then it is Catherine you must settle with, or rather me, as she has +not learned to arrange her affairs yet."</p> + +<p>I looked surprised.</p> + +<p>"Ah! You have not heard of Heathcliff's death, I see," she +continued.</p> + +<p>"Heathcliff dead!" I exclaimed. "How long ago?"</p> + +<p>"Three months since; but sit down, and I'll tell you all about it."</p> + +<p>"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.'</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"I shall be glad when they leave the Heights for the Grange," concluded +Mrs. Dean.</p> + +<p>"They are going to the Grange, then?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, as soon as they are married; and that will be on New Year's +Day."</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="buchanan">ROBERT BUCHANAN</a></h2> + + +<h3><a name="buchanan1">The Shadow of the Sword</a></h3> + +<blockquote> 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. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--The King of the Conscripts</i></h4> + + +<p>"Rohan Gwenfern!" cried the sergeant, in a voice that rang like a +trumpet through the length of the town hall.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Rohan Gwenfern!" cried the sergeant again.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Where is your nephew?" he said to Corporal Derval, in an angry +voice.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Rohan was too ill to come," said Marcelle, with a troubled look in her +sweet grey eyes. "I will draw in his name."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Come, come, my dear!" said the mayor, stroking his moustache, and +nodding encouragingly at Marcelle.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Read it, corporal!" said the mayor, while Marcelle looked wildly at her +uncle.</p> + +<p>"It is incredible!" said Corporal Derval, handing the paper to the +sergeant, with the look of amazement still on his face.</p> + +<p>"Rohan Gwenfern--one!" shouted the sergeant, while Marcelle clung to her +uncle, and hid her face upon his arm.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Here he is at last!" cried a voice, which he recognised as that of +Mikel Grallon. "Three cheers for the King of the Conscripts!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Look, Rohan!" she cried, holding up in her hand a rosette with a long, +coloured streamer. "Look! I have brought this for you."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Keep back! Do not touch me!" cried Rohan, his face blazing with strange +anger.</p> + +<p>"The boy's mad!" exclaimed Corporal Derval, in an angry voice.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Forward now, all of you to the inn!" said Corporal Derval, when the +cheering was over. "We will drink the health of Number One!"</p> + +<p>As everybody was moving towards the door, Rohan started as if from a +trance.</p> + +<p>"Stay!" he shouted.</p> + +<p>All stood listening, and his widowed mother crept up and clasped his +hand.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>Tearing the rosette from his breast, he cast it into the flaming +fire.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it a pity," sneered Mikel Grallon, "to see a pretty girl wasting +herself on a coward, when----"</p> + +<p>He did not complete the sentence, for Rohan stretched out his hand and +smote him down. Grallon fell like a log.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Hold him! Kill him!" shouted some.</p> + +<p>"Arrest him!" cried Corporal Derval.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--In the Cathedral of the Sea</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Come down and surrender, in the name of the emperor!" cried the +sergeant.</p> + +<p>"Surrender!" shouted all his men. And the vast, dim place rang with the +echoing sound of their voices.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Come down," said the sergeant, raising his gun, "or I will pick you off +your perch as if you were a crow."</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"And so are you," said Rohan, with a laugh, pointing to the mouth of the +cavern. "Look behind you!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Give him one volley," shouted the sergeant, "and then swim for your +lives."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Fire Fire!" shrieked the sergeant, pointing at the white figure of +Rohan.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--Rohan Meets Napoleon</i></h4> + + +<p>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?"</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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?"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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, "<i>Vive l'Empereur!"</i> 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!</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Leave me," said Napoleon to his men, after he had finished the plain +meal of bread and wine set before him.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"It is nothing," he said. "Don't disturb me for two hours except on a +matter of great importance. I want to sleep."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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!</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="bunyon">JOHN BUNYAN</a></h2> + + +<h3><a name="bunyon1">The Holy War</a></h3> + +<blockquote> 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." </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--The Founding of Mansoul</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--The Plot and Capture</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Diabolus then began his oration.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>At this the town of Mansoul began to prick up its ears.</p> + +<p>"And what is it, pray? What is it?" thought they.</p> + +<p>Then Diabolus spoke on.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--The Re-Taking of Mansoul</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--The Downfall</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h3><a name="bunyon2">The Pilgrim's Progress</a></h3> + +<blockquote> 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. +</blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--The Battle with Apollyon</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>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?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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!"</p> + +<p>Two of his neighbours pursued him and overtook him. Their names were +Obstinate and Pliable.</p> + +<p>"Come, come, friend Christian," said Obstinate. "Why are you hurrying +away in this manner from the City of Destruction, in which you were +born?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>After listening to all that Christian said, Pliable resolved to go with +him, but Obstinate returned to the City of Destruction in scorn.</p> + +<p>"What! Leave my friends and comforts for such a brain-sick fellow as +you? No, I will go back to my own home."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Is this the happiness you told me of?" said Pliable. "If I get out +again with my life, you shall make your journey alone."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"How now, good fellow!" said Mr. Worldly Wiseman. "Where are you going +with that heavy burden on your back?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Christian. "I remember the village is called Morality."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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?"</p> + +<p>Christian blushed for shame, and said that he had been led astray by Mr. +Worldly Wiseman.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" cried Apollyon, "I am sure of thee now!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Ho, ho!" shouted Christian. "Stay, and I will be your companion."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--Vanity Fair</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"What will ye buy? What will ye buy?" said one merchant to them +mockingly.</p> + +<p>"We buy the truth," said Christian and Faithful, looking gravely upon +him.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Christian was in no wise cast down by the death of Faithful, but went on +his way, singing,</p> + +<blockquote> +Hail, Faithful, hail! Thy goodly works survive;<br /> +And though they killed thee, thou art still alive.<br /> +</blockquote> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid," said Hopeful, "that it will take us out of the right +road."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--The Celestial City</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Here they lay bewailing themselves, and at last they espied a Shining +One coming toward them, with a whip in his hand.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"It was Flatterer that did this," said the Shining One. "He is a false +apostle that hath transformed himself into an angel."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>"Is the river very deep?" said Christian.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>"Be of good cheer, my brother," said Hopeful, "I feel the bottom, and it +is good!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="burney">FANNY BURNEY</a></h2> + + +<h3><a name="burney1">Evelina</a></h3> + +<blockquote> "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. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--Deserted</i></h4> + + +<h5>LADY HOWARD TO THE REV. MR. VILLARS</h5> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<h5>MR. VILLARS TO LADY HOWARD</h5> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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!</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--A Visit to Town</i></h4> + + +<h5>LADY HOWARD TO MR. VILLARS</h5> + +<p>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?</p> + +<h5>MR. VILLARS TO LADY HOWARD</h5> + +<p>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.</p> + +<h5>EVELINA ANVILLE TO MR. VILLARS</h5> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>We passed a most extraordinary evening. A <i>private</i> ball this was +called; but, my dear sir, I believe I saw half the world!</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 <i>with</i> a +stranger. And so he led me to join in the dance.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 <i>him</i>! Oh, these +fashionable people!</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>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?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing!" answered Lord Orville, with a smile and a shrug.</p> + +<p>"By Jove!" said the man, "she is the most beautiful creature I ever saw +in my life!"</p> + +<p>Lord Orville laughed, but answered, "Yes, a pretty, modest-looking +girl!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, my lord," cried the other, "she is an angel!"</p> + +<p>"A silent one," returned he.</p> + +<p>"Why, my lord, she looks all intelligence and expression!"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Here Maria was called to dance, and so heard no more.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--An Unlucky Meeting</i></h4> + + +<h5>EVELINA TO MR. VILLARS</h5> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>"We shall but follow the golden rule," said Mrs. Mirvan, "if we carry +her to her lodgings."</p> + +<p>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!</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>I promised to wait upon her at what time she pleased the next day.</p> + +<p>What an unfortunate adventure! I could not close my eyes the whole +night.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<h5>MR. VILLARS TO EVELINA</h5> + +<p>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.</p> + +<h5>EVELINA TO MR. VILLARS</h5> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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!</p> + +<p>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?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>I have since been extremely angry with myself for neglecting so +excellent an opportunity of apologising for my behaviour at the ball.</p> + +<p>Was it not very odd that he should make me such a compliment?</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--A Compromising Situation</i></h4> + + +<h5>EVELINA TO MR. VILLARS</h5> + +<p>I could write a volume of the adventures of yesterday.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>And then, without waiting for an answer, I suffered Sir Clement to hand +me out of the gallery.</p> + +<p>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?"</p> + +<p>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?"</p> + +<p>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?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>I am under cruel apprehensions lest Lord Orville should suppose my being +on the stairs with Sir Clement was a concerted scheme.</p> + + +<h4><i>V.--A Growing Acquaintance</i></h4> + + +<h5>EVELINA TO MISS MIRVAN</h5> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<h5>EVELINA TO MR. VILLARS</h5> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>We were received by Mrs. Beaumont with great civility, and by Lord +Orville with something more.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>VI.--A Happy Ending</i></h4> + + +<h5>EVELINA TO MR. VILLARS</h5> + +<p>And now, my dearest sir, if the perturbation of my spirits will allow +me, I will finish my last letter from Clifton Hill.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>As soon as the usual compliments were over, I would have left the room, +but he stopped me.</p> + +<p>"I have for some time past most ardently desired an opportunity of +speaking to you."</p> + +<p>I said nothing, so he went on.</p> + +<p>"I have been so unfortunate as to forfeit your friendship; your eye +shuns mine, and you sedulously avoid my conversation."</p> + +<p>I was extremely disconcerted at this grave, but too just accusation, but +I made no answer.</p> + +<p>"Tell me, I beseech you, what I have done, and how to deserve your +pardon."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"No, my lord!" answered I, with firmness, "none in the world. He is the +last man who would have any influence over my conduct."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"You are going, then," he cried, taking my hand, "and you give me not +the smallest hope of your return?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, my lord!" I said, "surely your lordship is not so cruel as to mock +me!"</p> + +<p>"Mock you!" repeated he earnestly. "No, I revere you! You are dearer to +me than language has the power of telling!"</p> + +<p>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!</p> + +<p>To be loved by Lord Orville, to be the honoured choice of his noble +heart--my happiness seems too infinite to be borne.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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!"</p> + +<p>Affected beyond measure, I half arose and embraced his knees.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," cried he, looking earnestly in my face, "I see thou art her +child! She lives, she is present to my view!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," cried I, "it is your child if you will own her!"</p> + +<p>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!"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="carleton">WILLIAM CARLETON</a></h2> + + +<h3><a name="carleton1">The Black Prophet</a></h3> + +<blockquote> 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. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--The Murders in the Glen</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Presently she took up the tobacco-box, and looking at it carefully, +clasped her hands.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--The Prophet Schemes</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Well," replied the other, "what more can you say, indeed? I'm thankful +to you, Jerry, an' I'll accept your kind offer."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Sullivan was strangely excited--he had discovered a stolen interview +outside between his eldest daughter and young Condy Dalton.</p> + +<p>Mave Sullivan--a young creature of nineteen, of rare natural beauty and +angelic purity--turned deadly pale when her father spoke.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>Her parents, already sorry for their harsh words, tried their utmost to +console her.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Next morning before departing, Donnel repeated to Mave Sullivan his +prophecy of the happy and prosperous marriage.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--The Shadow of Crime</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Such was the extraordinary fact!</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>Sarah lay groaning with pain, and then raving in delirium.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"Dear Sarah, don't you know me?" said Mave tenderly. "Look at me--I am +Mave Sullivan, your friend that loves you."</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>It was the knowledge of what she owed Mave that forced Sarah to +frustrate her father's plot for Mave's ruin.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--An Amazing Witness</i></h4> + + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>"You say the murdered man appeared to you. Which of them?"</p> + +<p>"Peter Magennis--what am I sayin'? I mean Bartle Sullivan."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"He was a very remarkable man in appearance; stout, with a long face, +and a scar on his chin."</p> + +<p>"And you saw that man murdered?"</p> + +<p>"I seen him dead after havin' been murdhered."</p> + +<p>"Do you think, now, if he were to rise again from the grave that you +would know him?"</p> + +<p>Then the counsel turned round, spoke to some person behind, and a +stranger advanced and mounted a table confronting the Black Prophet.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Hearing the name, crowds pressed forward, recognising Bartle Sullivan, +and testifying their recognition by a general cheer.</p> + +<p>There were two persons present, however, Condy Dalton and the Prophet, +on whom Sullivan's appearance produced very opposite effects.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>The trial was quickly ended. Sullivan's brother and several jurors +established his identity, and Condy Dalton was discharged.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>V.--Fate: the Discoverer</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>The chain of circumstantial evidence was sufficient to establish the +Prophet's guilt, and the judge passed the capital sentence.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="carroll">LEWIS CARROLL</a></h2> + + +<h3><a name="carroll1">Alice's Adventures in Wonderland</a></h3> + +<blockquote> 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. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--What Happened Down the Rabbit-Hole</i></h4> + + +<p>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?"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>There was nothing so <i>very</i> 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 <i>took +a watch out of his waistcoat pocket</i>, 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.</p> + +<p>In another moment down went Alice after him, never once considering how +in the world she was to get out again.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Well," thought Alice to herself, "after such a fall as this, I shall +think nothing of tumbling downstairs."</p> + +<p>Down, down, down. Would the fall <i>never</i> come to an end? "I wonder +if I shall fall right <i>through</i> 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).</p> + +<p>Down, down, down. Then suddenly, thump! thump! down she came upon a heap +of sticks and dry leaves, and the fall was over.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"What a curious feeling!" said Alice. "I must be shutting up like a +telescope."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>She very soon finished off the cake.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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!"</p> + +<p>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----"</p> + +<p>The Rabbit started violently, dropped the gloves and the fan, and +scurried away into the darkness as hard as he could go.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"How <i>can</i> I have done that?" she thought. "I must be growing small +again."</p> + +<p>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!</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--The Pool of Tears and the Animals' Party</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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, +"<i>ou est ma chatte?</i>" 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."</p> + +<p>"Not like cats!" cried the Mouse, in a shrill, passionate voice. "Would +<i>you</i> 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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 <i>can</i> I have dropped them, I wonder?"</p> + +<p>Very soon the Rabbit noticed Alice, and called out to her in an angry +tone, "Why, Mary Ann, what <i>are</i> you doing out here? Run home this +moment, and fetch me a pair of gloves and a fan. Quick, now!"</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--The Adventures in the Wood</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"I should like to be a <i>little</i> longer," she said. "Three inches is +such a wretched height to be."</p> + +<p>"It is a very good height indeed," said the Caterpillar angrily, rearing +itself upright as it spoke (it was exactly three inches high).</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"You'll get used to it in time," said the Caterpillar; and it put the +hookah into its mouth and began smoking again.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>"One side of <i>what</i>? The other side of what?" thought Alice to +herself.</p> + +<p>"Of the mushroom," said the Caterpillar, just as if she had asked it +aloud and in another moment it was out of sight.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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!</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"If it had grown up," she said, "it would have made a dreadfully ugly +child; but it makes rather a handsome pig, I think."</p> + +<p>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 <i>very</i> long claws and a great many teeth, so she felt +that it ought to be treated with respect.</p> + +<p>"Cheshire Puss," she said, "what sort of people live about here?"</p> + +<p>"In <i>that</i> direction," the Cat said, waving its right paw round, +"lives a Hatter; and in <i>that</i> direction"--waving the other +paw--"lives a March Hare. Visit either you like; they're both mad."</p> + +<p>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."</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--Alice at the Mad Tea Party</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The table was a large one, but the three were all crowded together at +one corner.</p> + +<p>"No room! No room!" they cried out when they saw Alice coming.</p> + +<p>"There's <i>plenty</i> of room!" said Alice indignantly. And she sat +down in a large armchair at one end of the table.</p> + +<p>"What day of the month is it?" asked the Hatter, turning to Alice.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Alice considered a little, and said, "The fourth."</p> + +<p>"Two days wrong," sighed the Hatter. "I told you butter wouldn't suit +the works," he added, looking angrily at the March Hare.</p> + +<p>"It was the <i>best</i> butter," the March Hare meekly replied.</p> + +<p>"But some crumbs must have got in as well," the Hatter grumbled. "You +shouldn't have put it in with the bread-knife."</p> + +<p>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 <i>best</i> butter, you know."</p> + +<p>"It's always tea-time with us here," explained the Hatter, "and we've no +time to wash the things between whiles."</p> + +<p>"Then you keep moving round, I suppose?" said Alice.</p> + +<p>"Exactly so," said the Hatter; "as the things get used up."</p> + +<p>"But when you come to the beginning again?" Alice ventured to ask.</p> + +<p>"Suppose we change the subject," the March Hare interrupted, yawning. "I +vote the young lady tells us a story."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid I don't know one," said Alice, rather alarmed at the +proposal.</p> + +<p>"Then the Dormouse shall!" they both cried. "Wake up the Dormouse!" And +they pinched it on both sides at once.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>"Tell us a story," said the March Hare.</p> + +<p>"Yes, please do!" pleaded Alice.</p> + +<p>"And be quick about it," added the Hatter, "or you'll be asleep again +before it's done."</p> + +<p>"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----"</p> + +<p>"What did they live on?" said Alice, who always took a great interest in +questions of eating and drinking.</p> + +<p>"They lived on treacle," said the Dormouse, after thinking a minute or +two.</p> + +<p>"They couldn't have done that, you know," Alice gently remarked, "they'd +have been ill."</p> + +<p>"So they were <i>very</i> ill."</p> + +<p>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?"</p> + +<p>The Dormouse again took a minute or two to think about it, and then +said, "It was a treacle-well."</p> + +<p>"There's no such thing," Alice was beginning very angrily, but the +Hatter and the March Hare went "Sh! sh!"</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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----"</p> + +<p>"Why with an M?" said Alice.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" said the March Hare.</p> + +<p>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?"</p> + +<p>"Really, now you ask me," said Alice, confused, "I don't think----"</p> + +<p>"Then you shouldn't talk," said the Hatter.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The last time she saw them, they were trying to put the Dormouse into +the teapot.</p> + + +<h4><i>V.--The Mock Turtle's Story and the Lobster Quadrille</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Alice. "I don't even know what a mock turtle is."</p> + +<p>"It's the thing mock turtle soup is made from," said the Queen.</p> + +<p>"I never saw one or heard of one."</p> + +<p>"Come on, then," said the Queen, "and he shall tell you his +history."</p> + +<p>They very soon came upon a gryphon, lying fast asleep in the sun.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>So they went up to the Mock Turtle, who looked at them with large eyes +full of tears.</p> + +<p>"This here young lady," said the Gryphon, "she wants for to know your +history."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I never heard of 'Uglification,'" Alice ventured to say. "What is +it?"</p> + +<p>The Gryphon lifted up both its paws in surprise.</p> + +<p>"Never heard of uglifying!" it exclaimed. "You know what to beautify is, +I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Alice doubtfully, "it means +to--make--anything--prettier."</p> + +<p>"Well, then," the Gryphon went on, "if you don't know what to uglify is, +you <i>are</i> a simpleton."</p> + +<p>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?"</p> + +<p>"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; <i>he</i> taught us Drawling, Stretching, and Fainting in +Coils. The Classical master taught Laughing and Grief, they used to +say."</p> + +<p>"And how many hours a day did you do lessons?" said Alice, in a hurry to +change the subject.</p> + +<p>"Ten hours the first day," said the Mock Turtle; "nine the next, and so +on."</p> + +<p>"What a curious plan!" exclaimed Alice.</p> + +<p>"That's the reason they're called lessons," the Gryphon remarked; +"because they lessen from day to day."</p> + +<p>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?"</p> + +<p>"Of course it was," said the Mock Turtle.</p> + +<p>"And how did you manage on the twelfth?" Alice went on eagerly.</p> + +<p>"That's enough about lessons," the Gryphon interrupted, in a very +decided tone. "Tell her something about the games."</p> + +<p>The Mock Turtle sighed deeply, and drew the back of one flapper across +his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Would you like to see a little of a Lobster Quadrille?" said he to +Alice.</p> + +<p>"Very much indeed," said Alice.</p> + +<p>"Let's try the first figure," said the Mock Turtle to the Gryphon. "We +can do without lobsters, you know. Which shall sing?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>you</i> sing!" said the Gryphon. "I've forgotten the words."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<blockquote> +"Will you walk a little faster?" said a whiting to a snail,<br /> +"There's a porpoise close behind us, and he's treading on my tail.<br /> +See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance!<br /> +They are waiting on the shingle--will you come and join the dance?<br /> +Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, will you join the dance?<br /> +Will you, won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the dance?"<br /> +</blockquote> + +<p>"Now, come, let's hear some of <i>your</i> adventures," said the Gryphon +to Alice, after the dance.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Explain all that," said the Mock Turtle.</p> + +<p>"No, no; the adventure first!" said the Gryphon impatiently. +"Explanations take such a dreadful time."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Come on!" cried the Gryphon. And, taking Alice by the hand, it hurried +off.</p> + +<p>"What trial is it?" Alice panted, as she ran, but the Gryphon only +answered, "Come on!" and ran the faster.</p> + + +<h4><i>VI.--The Trial of the Knave of Hearts</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Silence in the court!" cried the Rabbit.</p> + +<p>"Herald, read the accusation!" said the King.</p> + +<p>On this the White Rabbit blew three blasts on the trumpet, and then +unrolled the parchment scroll, and read as follows.</p> + +<blockquote> +The Queen of Hearts, she made some tarts,<br /> + All on a summer's day;<br /> +The Knave of Hearts, he stole those tarts,<br /> + And took them quite away.<br /> +</blockquote> + +<p>"Consider your verdict," the King said to the jury.</p> + +<p>"Not yet, not yet!" the Rabbit hastily interrupted. "There's a great +deal to come before that!"</p> + +<p>"Call the first witness," said the King and the White Rabbit blew three +blasts on the trumpet, and called out, "First witness!"</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>"Take off your hat," the King said to the Hatter.</p> + +<p>"It isn't mine," said the Hatter.</p> + +<p>"<i>Stolen!</i>" the King exclaimed, turning to the jury, who instantly +made a memorandum of the fact.</p> + +<p>"I keep them to sell," the Hatter added as an explanation; "I've none of +my own. I'm a hatter."</p> + +<p>Here the Queen put on her spectacles, and began staring hard at the +Hatter, who turned pale and fidgeted.</p> + +<p>"Give your evidence," said the King, "and don't be nervous, or I'll have +you executed on the spot."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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----"</p> + +<p>"The twinkling of <i>what</i>?" said the King.</p> + +<p>"It <i>began</i> with the tea," said the Hatter.</p> + +<p>"Of course, twinkling begins with a T!" said the King sharply. "Do you +take me for a dunce? Go on!"</p> + +<p>"I'm a poor man," the Hatter went on, "and most things twinkled after +that--only the March Hare said----"</p> + +<p>"I didn't!" the March Hare interrupted in a great hurry.</p> + +<p>"You did!" said the Hatter.</p> + +<p>"I deny it!" said the March Hare.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"Call the next witness!" said the King.</p> + +<p>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 <i>yet</i>," she said to herself. Imagine her surprise when +the White Rabbit read out, at the top of his shrill little voice, the name +"Alice!"</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I <i>beg</i> your pardon!" she exclaimed in a tone of great dismay, +and began picking them up again as quickly as she could.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"What do you know about this business?" the King said to Alice.</p> + +<p>"Nothing," said Alice.</p> + +<p>"Nothing <i>whatever</i>?" persisted the King.</p> + +<p>"Nothing whatever," said Alice.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"<i>Un</i>important, your Majesty means, of course," he said, in a very +respectful tone, but frowning and making faces at him.</p> + +<p>"<i>Un</i>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.</p> + +<p>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. <i>All persons more than a mile high to leave the +court</i>."</p> + +<p>Everybody looked at Alice.</p> + +<p>"<i>I'm</i> not a mile high," said Alice.</p> + +<p>"You are," said the King.</p> + +<p>"Nearly two miles high," added the Queen.</p> + +<p>"Well, I shan't go, at any rate," said Alice. "Besides, that's not a +regular rule; you invented it just now."</p> + +<p>"It's the oldest rule in the book," said the King.</p> + +<p>"Then it ought to be Number One," said Alice.</p> + +<p>The King turned pale, and shut his notebook hastily. "Consider your +verdict," he said to the jury, in a low, trembling voice.</p> + +<p>"No, no!" said the Queen. "Sentence first--verdict afterwards."</p> + +<p>"Stuff and nonsense!" said Alice loudly. "The idea of having the +sentence first!"</p> + +<p>"Hold your tongue!" said the Queen.</p> + +<p>"I won't!" said Alice.</p> + +<p>"Off with her head!" the Queen shouted at the top of her voice. Nobody +moved.</p> + +<p>"Who cares for you?" said Alice (she had grown to her full size by this +time). "You're nothing but a pack of cards!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Wake up, Alice dear!" said her sister. "Why, what a long sleep you've +had!"</p> + +<p>"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 <i>was</i> a +curious dream, dear, certainly. But now run in to your tea; it's getting +late."</p> + +<p>So Alice got up and ran off, thinking while she ran, as well she might, +what a wonderful dream it had been.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="cervantes">MIGUEL CERVANTES</a></h2> + + +<h3><a name="cervantes1">Life and Adventures of Don Quixote</a></h3> + +<blockquote> 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. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--The Knight-Errant of La Mancha</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<i>cap-à-pie</i>, ride through the world, redressing all manner of +grievances, and exposing himself to every danger, that he might purchase +everlasting honour and renown.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--An Adventure in a Courtyard</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--The Immortal Partnership</i></h4> + + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--Sancho Governs His Island</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>V.--The Death of Don Quixote</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="chamisso">ADALBERT VON CHAMISSO</a></h2> + + +<h3><a name="chamisso1">Peter Schlemihl, the Shadowless Man</a></h3> + +<blockquote> 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. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--The Grey Man</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>I thought he was mad. "Is your own shadow not enough for you? What a +strange bargain!"</p> + +<p>"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----"</p> + +<p>"What! Fortunati's purse?"</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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!"</p> + +<p>"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?</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"The best thing you can do is not to walk in the sun," the artist +retorted with a piercing look, and walked out.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--A Soul for a Shadow</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"What do you want, you rogue?"</p> + +<p>"Only to see your shadow, with your lordship's permission."</p> + +<p>"How dare you----"</p> + +<p>"I am not going to serve a man without a shadow. Either you show it to +me, or I go."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, my foreboding!" cried Mina. "I knew it; he has no shadow!"</p> + +<p>"And you dared," continued the verdurer, "to deceive us? See how she +sobs! Confess now how you lost your shadow."</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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!</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>I groped for the bag but the stranger stopped me.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>I sternly refused. "I am not inclined to stake my soul for my +shadow."</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 "<i>au revoir</i>." 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.</p> + +<p>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!</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>"Where is he? I want to know."</p> + +<p>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: "<i>Justo judico Dei judicatus sum; justo judicio Dei +condemnatus sum."</i></p> + +<p>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!"</p> + +<p>He glared at me furiously and disappeared instantly.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--The Wanderer</i></h4> + + +<p>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!"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>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!</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="chateaubriand">CHATEAUBRIAND</a></h2> + + +<h3><a name="chateaubriand1">Atala</a></h3> + +<blockquote> 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. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--The Song of Death</i></h4> + + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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!</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"'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.'</p> + +<p>"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.'</p> + +<p>"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.'</p> + +<p>"'Chactas, son of Outalissi,' said Simaghan, 'rejoice! We will burn you +before our wig-wams.'</p> + +<p>"'That is good news,' I said, and thereupon I sang my song of death.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"'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.'</p> + +<p>"'Are you a Christian?' asked the maiden.</p> + +<p>"'No,' I replied. 'I have not betrayed the faith of my forefathers.'</p> + +<p>"'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.'</p> + +<p>"And with a look of anger, Atala rose up and went away."</p> + +<p>Here Chactas for a moment became silent. Tears rolled from his blind +eyes down his withered cheeks.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"But in the evening Atala came, and said to him, 'If you would like to +go hunting, I will look after the prisoner.'</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"'Now, Chactas,' she murmured, turning her face away from me, 'you can +escape.'</p> + +<p>"'I do not want to escape,' I cried, 'unless I can escape with you!'</p> + +<p>"'But they will burn you,' she said. 'They will burn you to-morrow!'</p> + +<p>"'What does it matter,' I exclaimed, 'if you do not love me?'</p> + +<p>"'But I do love you,' said Atala, and she bent over and kissed me.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"'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.'</p> + +<p>"'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.'</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"'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.'</p> + +<p>"Angered by my song, a Creek warrior stabbed me in the arm. 'Thank you,' +I said.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<h4><i>II.--The Magic of the Forest</i></h4> + + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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:</p> + +<p>"'Yes, I love you, Chactas, I love you! But I can never be your +wife!'</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"'But as I intend, Atala, to become a Christian, what is there to +prevent us marrying?' I said, again and again.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"'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?'</p> + +<p>"'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.'</p> + +<p>"'Then who was your father, my beloved?' I cried in astonishment.</p> + +<p>"'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!'</p> + +<p>"'What is his name?' I said. 'Where does he live?'</p> + +<p>"'He lives at St. Augustin,' she replied. 'His name is Philip +Lopez.'</p> + +<p>"'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!'</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"'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?'</p> + +<p>"'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.'</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"'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.'</p> + +<p>"'But here is a priest,' I said. 'I will be baptised at once, and we can +be married immediately afterwards.'</p> + +<p>"'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.'</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"'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.'</p> + +<p>"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!'</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="cherbuliez">CHARLES VICTOR CHERBULIEZ</a></h2> + + +<h3><a name="cherbuliez1">Samuel Brohl & Co.</a></h3> + +<blockquote> 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. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--A Mountain Romance</i></h4> + + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>After strolling some time about the garden, Mlle. Moriaz saw her father +waiting for her at the door.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I should be delighted," said his daughter, "if you think it will not +tire you."</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"Isn't the music of this wild stream delightful?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<blockquote> "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." </blockquote> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--A Conversation with a Dead Man</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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!'</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--Samuel Brohl Comes to Life</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Antoinette presented him to the Princess, who examined him with her +little, blinking eyes, and smiled on him kindly and calmly.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Mortal enemies?" he said, in a low, troubled voice. "Why are we mortal +enemies; my dear Princess?"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"How is that?" he said with a smile.</p> + +<p>"You dream with your eyes open, my dear Count Larinski, and your +awakening is sometimes sudden and unpleasant."</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>A cold sweat broke out on the forehead of the adventurer. Leaning over +the Princess, his face convulsed with hatred, he murmured:</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--The Partnership is Dissolved</i></h4> + + +<p>The next morning, after breakfast, Mlle. Moriaz was surprised to receive +a visit from Princess Gulof.</p> + +<p>"I have come to see you about your marriage," said the Princess.</p> + +<p>"You are very kind," replied Mlle. Moriaz, "but I do not +understand...."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Princess Gulof rose up brusquely, and stood for a while looking at +Antoinette in silence.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Thereupon she made a mocking curtsey, and turned on her heels and +disappeared.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"I see you don't want me," said Camille sadly, turning away.</p> + +<p>"Of course I want you," she said, touched by the feeling he showed. "You +are my oldest and dearest friend."</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"One of these plates, I believe, opens by a secret spring. You are an +engineer, can you find this spring for me?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Is there any writing?" said Antoinette. "Let me look."</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter with you, dear Antoinette?" said Camille, alarmed by +her pallor and her staring eyes.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"Can you tell me what I ought to think of Samuel Brohl?" she asked.</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"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 ..."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"You did not love the man," he said bitterly; "only the Count."</p> + +<p>"The man I loved did not tell lies," she replied.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>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:</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Mlle. Moriaz, however, divined the thought in the eyes of Samuel +Brohl.</p> + +<p>"You are a good actor," she said between her teeth. "But it is time that +this comedy came to an end."</p> + +<p>He threw himself on the grass at her feet, and then sprang up, and tried +to clasp her in his arms.</p> + +<p>"Camille! Camille!" she cried, "save me from this man."</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="collins">WILKIE COLLINS</a></h2> + + +<h3><a name="collins1">No Name</a></h3> + +<blockquote> 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. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--Nobody's Children</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"An American letter, papa!" exclaimed Magdalen, the youngest daughter, +looking over her father's shoulder. "Who do you know at New Orleans?"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"God help us!" exclaimed the governess. "The train Mr. Vanstone +travelled by?"</p> + +<p>"The same. There are seven passengers badly hurt, and two------"</p> + +<p>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------"</p> + +<p>Then she sank swooning into Miss Garth's arms.</p> + +<p>From the shock of her husband's death, Mrs. Vanstone never +recovered.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"They went to London to be married," cried Mr. Pendril.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"How am I to tell them?" exclaimed Miss Garth.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--Tricked into Marriage</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"I would suggest," said Mrs. Lecount, "that you give a hundred pounds to +each of these unfortunate sisters."</p> + +<p>"He will repent the insult to the last hour of his life," said +Magdalen.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"You were happier with me," said a voice at his side.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Your drink, Mr. Noel," she said, touching him. He took no notice. She +looked at him closer Noel Vanstone was dead.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--The Darkest Hour</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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!"</p> + +<p>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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Near to tears, she waited to hear her fate.</p> + +<p>"Tell me what you think of me! Tell me the truth!" she said.</p> + +<p>"With my own lips?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she answered. "Say what you think of me with your own lips."</p> + +<p>She looked up at him for the first time, and then, he stooped and kissed +her.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h3><a name="collins2">The Woman in White</a></h3> + +<blockquote> 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. +</blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--The Woman Appears</i></h4> + + +<p><i>The story here presented will be told by several pens. Let Walter +Hartright, teacher of drawing, aged twenty-eight, be heard first</i>.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Is that the road to London?" she said.</p> + +<p>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!</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"What has she done?" queried the policeman.</p> + +<p>"Done!" exclaimed one of the men. "She has escaped from our asylum."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--The Story Continued by Vincent Gilmore, of Chancery Lane, +Solicitor to the Fairlies</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--The Story Continued by Marian Halcombe in a Series of Extracts +from Her Diary</i></h4> + + +<p><i>Limmeridge House, November 9</i>. 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.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"I gratefully accept your grace and truth," he said. "The least that +<i>you</i> can offer is more to me than the utmost that I can hope for from +any other woman in the world."</p> + +<p><i>December</i> 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.</p> + +<p><i>December 22</i>, 11 <i>o'clock.</i> It is all over. They are +married.</p> + +<p><i>Black-water Park, Hampshire, June</i> 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.</p> + +<p><i>June</i> 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.</p> + +<p><i>June 16</i>. 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.</p> + +<p><i>June 17</i>. 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.</p> + +<p><i>June 18</i>. 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.</p> + +<p><i>June 19</i>. 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.</p> + +<p><i>Later</i>.--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.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Make your mind easy, Percival," he said. "I have my projects here in my +big head. Sleep, my son, the sleep of the just."</p> + +<p>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....</p> + +<p>[At this point the diary ceases to be legible.]</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--The Story Completed by Walter Hartright on His Return, from +Several Manuscripts</i></h4> + + +<p>The events that happened after Marian Halcombe fell ill while I was +still absent in South America I will relate briefly.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="conway">HUGH CONWAY</a></h2> + + +<h3><a name="conway1">Called Back</a></h3> + +<blockquote> 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. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--A Blind Witness</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>For I was blind, stone blind!</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Spare me!" I cried. "I am blind, blind, blind!"</p> + +<p>I lay perfectly still, crying out these words again and again.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--Not for Love or Marriage</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>We followed her out of the cathedral and saw the old woman speak to a +middle-aged, round-shouldered, bespectacled man of gentlemanly +appearance.</p> + +<p>"Do English gentlemen stare at their own countrywomen in public places +like this?" said a voice at our elbows.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The girl's face haunted me, but we never saw her again in the city of +Turin.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Who knows? I do not know--but I tell you the <i>signorina</i> is not +for love or marriage."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Pauline was called into the room. I took her hand. I asked her to be my +wife.</p> + +<p>"Yes, if you wish it," she replied softly, without even changing +colour.</p> + +<p>She did not repulse me, but she did not respond to my affection. She +remained as calm and undemonstrative as ever.</p> + +<p>At Dr. Ceneri's strange urgency, Pauline and I were married two days +later.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--Calling Back the Past</i></h4> + + +<p>"Not for love or marriage!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"She is my wife," I replied.</p> + +<p>"Your wife!" he shouted. "You lie!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--Seeking the Truth in Siberia</i></h4> + + +<p>Macari called on me the day after this strange scene to ask me about the +memorial to Victor Emanuel.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>He saw what was in my face as I rose and walked towards him.</p> + +<p>"Not here," he said hastily, "what good can it do here--a vulgar scuffle +between two gentlemen?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"I want to ask you some questions," I said, "questions which you alone +can answer."</p> + +<p>"Ask them. You have given me an hour's release from misery. I am +grateful."</p> + +<p>"The first question I have to ask is--who and what is that man +Macari?"</p> + +<p>Ceneri sprang to his feet. "A traitor! a traitor!" he cried.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="cooper">FENIMORE COOPER</a></h2> + + +<h3><a name="cooper1">The Last of the Mohicans</a></h3> + +<blockquote> 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. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--Betrayed by the Redskin</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Here, then, lies our way," said Duncan in a low voice. "Manifest no +distrust, or you may invite the danger you appear to apprehend."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--In the Nick of Time</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"An Indian lost in the woods?" exclaimed the scout. "I should like to +look at the creature."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The position was serious in the extreme, how serious was disclosed that +night as they lay hid in a cave.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Monster!" cried Cora, when this proposal was laid before her. "None but +a fiend could meditate such a vengeance!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"No, no!" she cried. "Better that we die as we have lived, +together."</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--"The Jubilee of Devils</i>"</h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Come," he cried, seizing Alice in his blood-stained arms; "the wigwam +of the Huron is still open!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--Captives of the Hurons</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +<i>séance</i>, how he had knocked him on the head and taken the +bear's skin in which the charlatan had proposed to make his magic.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Huron, do your worst!" exclaimed the excited Heyward, as he saw that +all his plans were brought to nought.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>V.--Hawk-eye's Revenge</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Woman!" cried Magua, raising his knife, "choose--the wigwam or the +knife of Le Subtil?"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Mercy!" cried Heyward from above. "Give mercy, and thou shalt receive +it!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"The pale faces are dogs! The Delawares women! Magua leaves them on the +rocks for the crows!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h3><a name="cooper2">The Spy</a></h3> + +<blockquote> 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. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--Uncomfortable Visitors</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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?"</p> + +<p>The traveller replied, while a faint tinge gathered on his +features--"Mr. Harper."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Mr. Harper bowed in silence to the compliment, and seated himself by the +fire with an air of reserve that baffled further inquiry.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"My father! my dear father!" cried the handsome young man.</p> + +<p>"Heaven bless you, my Henry, my son," exclaimed the astonished and +delighted parent, while his sisters sank on his shoulders dissolved in +tears.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Do you think he suspects me?" asked the captain.</p> + +<p>"How should he?" cried Sarah, his elder sister, "when your sisters and +father could not penetrate your disguise."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--The Disguise That Failed</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>While the company were yet seated at breakfast, Caesar, the black, +entered and laid a small parcel in silence by his master.</p> + +<p>"What is this, Caesar?" inquired Mr. Wharton, eyeing the bundle +suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"The baccy, sir; Harvey Birch, he got home, and he bring you a little +good baccy."</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Have you any other news, friend?" asked Captain Wharton, in a pause, +venturing to thrust his head without the curtains.</p> + +<p>"Have you heard that Major André has been hanged?" was the +reply.</p> + +<p>"Is there any probability of movements below that will make travelling +dangerous?" asked Harper.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>"You must be known by this time, Harvey, to the officers of the British +Army," cried Sarah, smiling at the pedlar.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>"Necessity has made me one," said Harper, rising from his seat.</p> + +<p>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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>"Surely, sir," cried the father, "you will keep secret the discovery +which your being in my house has enabled you to make?"</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>And, bowing to the whole party, he rode gracefully through the little +gate, and was soon lost to view.</p> + +<p>"Captain Wharton, do you go in to-night?" asked the pedlar abruptly, +when this scene had closed.</p> + +<p>"No!" said the captain laconically.</p> + +<p>"I rather guess you had better shorten your visit," continued the +pedlar, coolly.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Here I stay this night, come what will."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--A Dangerous Situation</i></h4> + + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Has there been a strange gentleman staying with you during the storm?" +asked the dragoon.</p> + +<p>"This gentleman here favoured us with his company during the rain," +stammered Mr. Wharton.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Then, turning to the father, he proceeded, "Then, sir, I am to +understand a Mr. Harper has not been here?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"He is gone--how, when, and whither?"</p> + +<p>"He departed as he arrived," said Mr. Wharton, gathering confidence, "on +horseback, last evening; he took the northern road."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>Young Wharton made the necessary changes, and stood an extremely +handsome, well-dressed young man.</p> + +<p>"I am Captain Lawton, of the Virginian Horse," said the dragoon.</p> + +<p>"And I, sir, am Captain Wharton, of His Majesty's 60th Regiment of +Foot," returned Henry, bowing.</p> + +<p>The countenance of Lawton changed from quaintness to great earnestness, +as he exclaimed, "Then, Captain Wharton, from my soul I pity you!"</p> + +<p>Captain Lawton now inquired if a pedlar named Birch did not live in the +valley.</p> + +<p>"At times only, I believe, sir," replied Mr. Wharton cautiously. "He is +seldom here; I may say I never see him."</p> + +<p>"What is the offence of poor Birch?" asked the aunt.</p> + +<p>"Poor!" cried the captain; "if he is poor, King George is a bad +paymaster."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry," said Mr. Wharton, "that any neighbour of mine should incur +displeasure."</p> + +<p>"If I catch him," cried the dragoon, "he will dangle from the limbs of +one of his namesakes."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"How did you pass the pickets in the plains?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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."</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--Justice by Evasion</i></h4> + + +<p>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--<i>approved</i>. All seemed lost.</p> + +<p>"Why not apply to Mr. Harper?" said Frances, recollecting for the first +time the parting words of their guest.</p> + +<p>"Harper!" echoed Dunwoodie, who had joined the family consultation. +"What of him? Do you know him?"</p> + +<p>"He stayed with us two days. He seemed to take an interest in Henry, and +promised him his friendship."</p> + +<p>"What!" exclaimed the youth, in astonishment, "did he know your +brother?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly; it was at his request that Henry threw aside his +disguise."</p> + +<p>"But," said Dunwoodie, "he knew him not as an officer of the royal +army?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Then," cried the youth, "will I save him. Harper will never forget his +word."</p> + +<p>"But has he power," said Frances, "to move Washington's stubborn +purpose?"</p> + +<p>"If he cannot," shouted Dunwoodie, "who can? Rest easy, for Henry is +safe."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>V.--Unexpected Meetings</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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!"</p> + +<p>"Miss Wharton!" exclaimed Harper. "But you cannot be alone!"</p> + +<p>"There is none here but my God and you, and I conjure you by His sacred +Name to remember your promise!"</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>Frances gave the desired assurance.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The surprise of Henry and the pedlar on finding Frances in possession of +the hut may be imagined.</p> + +<p>"Are you alone, Miss Fanny?" asked the pedlar, in a quick voice.</p> + +<p>"As you see me, Mr. Birch," said Frances, with an expressive glance +towards the secret cavern, a glance which the pedlar instantly +understood.</p> + +<p>"But why are you here?" exclaimed her astonished brother.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>VI.--Last Scenes</i></h4> + + +<p>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?"</p> + +<p>"He waits the pleasure of your excellency."</p> + +<p>"I will receive him here, and alone."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Harvey Birch," said he, turning to the visitor, "the time has arrived +when our connection must cease. Henceforth and forever we must be +strangers."</p> + +<p>"If it be your excellency's pleasure," replied the pedlar meekly.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"These," exclaimed Harvey Birch, stretching forth his hands.</p> + +<p>"The characters of men much esteemed depend on your secrecy. What pledge +can I give them of your fidelity?"</p> + +<p>"Tell them," said Birch, "that I would not take the gold."</p> + +<p>The officer grasped the hand of the pedlar as he exclaimed, "Now, +indeed, I know you!"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Ah, dear Tom," exclaimed Dunwoodie, "I knew I should find you the +nearest man to the enemy!"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Dunwoodie opened it, and found a paper on which he read:</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>It was the spy of the neutral ground, who died as he had lived, devoted +to his country.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="craik">MRS. CRAIK</a></h2> + + +<h3><a name="craik1">John Halifax, Gentleman</a></h3> + +<blockquote> 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. +</blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--The Tanner's Apprentice</i></h4> + + +<p>"Get out o' Mr. Fletcher's road, you idle, lounging, little----"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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--"</p> + +<p>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?"</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"What is thy name, lad?"</p> + +<p>"John Halifax."</p> + +<p>"Where dost thee come from?"</p> + +<p>"Cornwall."</p> + +<p>"Hast thee any parents living?"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"I will! I say I will----"</p> + +<p>"You sha'n't, Miss Ursula!"</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--Ursula March</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"I have indeed felt it so."</p> + +<p>"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 <i>not</i> +equals--that is, society would not regard us as such, and I doubt if even +you yourself would wish us to be friends."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"Because you are a gentlewoman, and I am a tradesman."</p> + +<p>She sat--the eyelashes drooping over her flushed cheeks--perfectly +silent. John's voice grew firmer, prouder; there was no hesitation now.</p> + +<p>"My calling is, as you will hear at Norton Bury, that of a tanner. I am +apprentice to Abel Fletcher, Phineas's father."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Fletcher!" She looked up at him, with a mingled look of kindliness +and pain.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>The earnestness, the passion of his tone made Miss March lift her eyes, +but they fell again.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Now indeed she started. "You! Was that you?"</p> + +<p>John paused, and his whole manner changed into softness as he +resumed.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>That face was pressed against the sofa where she sat. Miss March was all +but weeping.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>A quick, involuntary turn of the hidden face seemed to ask him +"Why?"</p> + +<p>"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 <i>are</i> equals."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Poor little hand--blessed little hand!" he murmured. "May God bless it +evermore!"</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--The Rise of John Halifax</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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----</p> + +<p>"Your daughter?" said his lordship, with a start. "Oh, yes; I +recollect--Baby Maud! Is she at all like--like----"</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--The Journey's End</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"You mean, Mr. Halifax, what I might have been--now it is too late."</p> + +<p>"There is no such word as 'too late' in the wide world--nay, not in the +universe."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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?"</p> + +<p>"Maud, don't you know me? Where is my mother?"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="croly">GEORGE CROLY</a></h2> + + +<h3><a name="croly1">Salathiel, or Tarry Thou Till I Come!</a></h3> + +<blockquote> 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 <i>chef +d'oeuvre</i> 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. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--Immortality on Earth</i></h4> + + +<p>"<i>Tarry thou till I come</i>!" 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.</p> + +<p>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!"</p> + +<p>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!"</p> + +<p>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!</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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!</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--The Son of Misfortune</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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 <i>is to come</i>, +still <i>to come?</i>" Then he left me.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--The Abomination of Desolation</i></h4> + + +<p>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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--The Hour of Doom</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"You should know me," he said calmly; "it is some years since we met, +but we have not been often asunder."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>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?"</p> + +<p>"Man of terrible knowledge," I demanded, "tell me for what crime this +judgment comes?"</p> + +<p>"There is no name for it," he said, with solemn fear.</p> + +<p>"Is there no hope?" said I, trembling.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>In a few minutes he had carried me to the city, placed me on a +battlement, and had disappeared.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>V.--The Pilgrim of Time</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<hr /> + + + + +<h2><a name="dana">RICHARD HENRY DANA</a></h2> + + +<h3><a name="dana1">Two Years Before the Mast</a></h3> + +<blockquote> 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. </blockquote> + + +<h4><i>I.--Life on a Merchantman</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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--<i>ad infinitum</i>. The Philadelphia catechism +is</p> + +<blockquote> +Six days shalt thou labour, and do all thou art able,<br /> +And on the seventh, holystone the decks and scrape the cable.<br /> +</blockquote> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 <b>poor</b> man's clothes.</p> + + +<h4><i>II.--At the Ends of the Earth</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>III.--A Tyrannical Captain</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"You see your condition! Will you ever give me any more of your +jaw?"</p> + +<p>No answer; and then came wrestling and heaving, as though the man was +trying to turn him.</p> + +<p>"You may as well keep still, for I have got you!" said the captain, who +repeated his question.</p> + +<p>"I never gave you any," said Sam, for it was his voice that we +heard.</p> + +<p>"That's not what I ask you. Will you ever be impudent to me again?"</p> + +<p>"I never have been, sir," said Sam.</p> + +<p>"Answer my question, or I'll make a spread-eagle of you!"</p> + +<p>"I'm no negro slave!" said Sam.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"What are you going to flog that man for, sir?" said John the Swede to +the captain.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Will you ever give me any more of your jaw?"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Then John the Swede was made fast. He asked the captain what he was to +be flogged for.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"No," said the captain. "I flog you for your interference--for asking +questions."</p> + +<p>"Can't a man ask a question here without being flogged?"</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>IV.--I Become a Hide-Curer</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + + +<h4><i>V.--An Adventurous Voyage Home</i></h4> + + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10643 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + |