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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12886 ***
+
+EVERYDAY LIFE LIBRARY No.1
+
+Published by EVERYDAY LIFE, Chicago
+
+THE COQUETTE'S VICTIM
+
+BY CHARLOTTE M. BRAEME
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+The Trial.
+
+
+Mr. Kent was a very able magistrate. He had sat on the bench for many
+years and was considered a man of great legal attainments and skill. He
+very seldom erred in his judgment, and being gifted with a natural
+shrewdness, he saw the difference at once between a guilty and an
+innocent man.
+
+He rarely erred; long practice had made him an adept in reading faces.
+
+But on this morning, the fourteenth of May, he was puzzled. Many cases
+had been brought before him. Drunken men dismissed with a fine and a
+reprimand, thieves sentenced to weeks or months of imprisonment, wives
+with pale faces and bruised arms had given reluctant evidence against
+husbands who had promised to love and cherish them until death.
+
+It was a bright May morning, and the sun did his best to pour through
+the dusky windows of the police court; a faint beam fell on the stolid
+faces of the policemen and ushers of the court, the witnesses and the
+lookers-on; a faint beam that yet, perhaps, brought many messages of
+bright promise to those present.
+
+A little boy had been sent on an errand with sixpence and had stolen the
+money; with many sobs and tears he confessed that he had spent it in
+cakes. Mr. Kent looked at the tear-stained face; the untidy brown head
+scarcely reached to the table, and the good magistrate thought, with
+something like pain at his heart, of a fair-haired boy at home. So he
+spoke kindly to the poor, trembling prisoner, and while he strongly
+reprimanded, still encouraged him to better ways. The boy was removed,
+and then Mr. Kent was puzzled by the prisoner who took his place.
+
+A tall, handsome young man, apparently not more than twenty, with a
+clear-cut aristocratic face, and luminous dark gray eyes. A face that no
+one could look into without admiration--that irresistibly attracted man,
+woman and child. He was a gentleman--there could be no mistake about it.
+That clear-cut Norman face had descended to him from a long line of
+ancestors; the well-built, manly figure, with its peculiar easy grace
+and dignity told of ancient lineage and noble birth.
+
+His hands were white, slender and strong, with almond-shaped
+nails--hands that had never been soiled with labor, and surely never
+stained with crime.
+
+He carried his handsome head high; it was proudly set on a firm,
+graceful neck, and covered with clusters of dark hair. He would have
+looked in his place near the throne of a queen, or, on the back of a war
+horse, leading a forlorn hope; but no one could understand his being
+prisoner in a dock. Mr. Kent looked at him, wondering with what he was
+charged. Surely, with that noble face and gentlemanly bearing, he had
+never been guilty of a common assault. Magistrate as he was, Mr. Kent
+listened to the recital of the charge, with some curiosity.
+
+Jules St. Croix, Count of the French Empire, charged the prisoner at the
+bar with having broken into his rooms for the purpose of robbery. He had
+been discovered in the count's drawing-room, where he had forced open an
+ivory casket and stolen the contents, which were an ancient and valuable
+gold watch and a gold ring, also of considerable value. At the moment
+that the count, followed by his servant, entered the room, the prisoner
+had these articles in his hand. He dropped them immediately, but the
+count, hastily calling for the police, gave him in charge.
+
+There was a smell of burned paper in the room and it was nearly eleven
+at night.
+
+The magistrate asked if the prisoner had made any resistance. Policeman
+C. No. 14, answered, "No, he gave in at once; and came straight away."
+
+Mr. Kent asked again: "Was there anything in the casket beside the
+jewelry?"
+
+It seemed to be a very insignificant question, but the prisoner and the
+count looked steadfastly at each other and both answered: "No."
+
+There were two witnesses. Robert Bolton, the count's servant, and C. No.
+14, the policeman. The evidence of the servant was taken first. He said
+that the prisoner had called several times to see his master, always
+coming when the count was from home; that he had, before, made one or
+two efforts to get into the count's room, but that he, the servant, had
+always refused him permission.
+
+On this evening the count went out early, and Robert Bolton having some
+errands to do, followed his master. About ten o'clock the prisoner
+called at the house, No. 24 Cambridge Terrace, and asked to speak to
+Count St. Croix. The landlady of the house told him the count was from
+home; then the prisoner said:
+
+"I know. I will go to his room and wait there for him."
+
+The landlady, believing him to be a perfect gentleman, allowed him to
+go up to the count's room. Robert Bolton returned home just as his
+master was at the door; when the landlady told him a gentleman was
+waiting there, it flashed instantly into his mind there was something
+wrong. He hastily told his suspicions to the count and they ran upstairs
+together. Opening the door quickly, they found the prisoner with the
+casket in one hand and the watch in the other. There was an odor of
+burnt paper in the room.
+
+The count immediately opened the window and called for the police. C.
+No. 14 was just passing, and in marvelously quick time he ran upstairs.
+
+"This man has gotten into my room on false pretences," said the count.
+"He is a stranger to me. I give him in charge for breaking open my
+casket and stealing a watch and ring from it."
+
+"What did the prisoner say."
+
+"He pointed to the watch and ring, and said: 'There they are;' then he
+looked at the count with a smile."
+
+"Did he seem frightened?"
+
+"Not the least in the world," was the answer; "just the contrary."
+
+"What happened next?"
+
+"The prisoner told him he must consider himself a prisoner on the charge
+of stealing a watch. He laughed aloud and walked away."
+
+The landlady of the house, the policeman and the count all gave the same
+evidence. It seemed very clear against him.
+
+"What have you to say?" asked, the magistrate of the prisoner.
+
+He raised his luminous gray eyes.
+
+"Not one word," he replied, in a clear, refined voice.
+
+"What is your name? I see you have refused to give any."
+
+For the first time the prisoner's face flushed crimson, and the count
+smiled malignantly.
+
+"My name is--John Smith," he replied, and again the count smiled.
+
+"Your address?"
+
+He gave some number and street which every one knew to be false.
+
+"Your occupation?" asked the magistrate again.
+
+"I have none--that is, no settled occupation," he replied.
+
+"Have you no lawyer to defend you?" asked Mr. Kent.
+
+"I require none," said the prisoner; "I have no defense. All that Count
+Jules St. Croix says is true; he found me in his room with the open
+casket in my hand."
+
+"You had gone there for the purpose of robbery?"
+
+"I have not a word to answer."
+
+"You can surely give some account of your presence there?"
+
+The prisoner smiled again.
+
+"I refuse to do so," he replied, with great firmness, yet courtesy of
+manner.
+
+"Then I must commit you for trial," said the magistrate. "Have you no
+witnesses to bring forward in your own defense now, as to character--no
+referees?" he continued.
+
+"None," was the quiet reply.
+
+"I am sorry," said Mr. Kent; "to see one who is so evidently a
+gentleman and a man of education in such a position."
+
+But there was no shame in the handsome face; none in the proud eyes. He
+raised his head with haughty grace and made no reply.
+
+"I can take bail," said Mr. Kent, but the prisoner said, "I have none to
+offer."
+
+Then was the good magistrate puzzled. He had no resource but to commit
+the young man to take his trial at the Sessions. Yet looking at the
+clear, aristocratic face, and the firm, proud lips, he could have sworn
+that the prisoner was perfectly innocent of the theft.
+
+He read pride, honesty, loyalty and chivalry in the face, yet there was
+nothing left for him to do but to commit him.
+
+He looked very grave as he did so, and then John Smith was taken away by
+the policeman. As he left the dock he turned to his accuser, the Count
+St. Croix, who stood there with a dark frown on his face; he looked at
+him for one moment, then waved his hand, as one who had won a great
+victory.
+
+"I have conquered," he said, and the count's sallow face grew pale with
+rage,
+
+"Curse you," he said, between his teeth, "I should like to stand with my
+foot on your neck."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+The Sentence.
+
+
+John Smith--for the prisoner was known by no other name--lay in prison
+until the time for his trial. He had not long to wait, but he made no
+complaint. He seemed perfectly at his ease--much more so than was Mr.
+Kent. In vain the good magistrate said to himself that it was no
+business of his; that he had nothing whatever to do with the case, he
+had simply performed his duty--done what was required of him. Yet he
+could not feel satisfied; he was sure there was a mystery, and he longed
+to fathom it.
+
+He resolved to go and see the young man, and ask him more questions, to
+try to ascertain who he really was. He went to his cell and the prisoner
+looked at him in utter surprise.
+
+"I have come purposely," said Mr. Kent, "to see if I cannot induce you
+to tell the truth over this affair. I will call you John Smith, if you
+like, yet I am sure you are a gentleman; you will not deny that?"
+
+"I neither admit nor deny anything," was the smiling reply; "I have made
+up my mind that there will be a certain punishment, and I shall go
+through it like a brave man."
+
+"Have you well considered what degradation that punishment will bring
+upon you as long as you live?"
+
+His face flushed hotly.
+
+"Since you ask me," he answered, "I tell you frankly, no; I had not
+thought of that part of the business at all--it never even occurred to
+me; my thoughts were all otherwise engrossed."
+
+"You should take it into consideration," said the magistrate. "I know
+nothing of what your position in society may be, but remember, you
+voluntarily cut yourself off from all association with even respectable
+people; a man who has been in prison cannot expect the countenance or
+fellowship of his fellow-men."
+
+"I suppose you are right," replied the young man; "although, believe me,
+never a thought of this occurred to me."
+
+"Now, would it not be better to tell the truth? Have you done it for a
+wager? is it the trick of a foolish young man? or were you really
+tempted to steal the watch?"
+
+Something like a smile curved his handsome lips.
+
+"I cannot tell you," he replied. "I am deeply grateful for your kind
+interest--indeed, I shall never forget it; but I cannot, in return, tell
+you one word."
+
+"Then I can do nothing to help you?"
+
+"No," he answered slowly; "you could not help sending me for trial. Will
+you tell me what the probable result will be, supposing, as a matter of
+course, that I am found guilty?"
+
+"Most probably, six months imprisonment, without hard labor, if it be a
+first offence."
+
+"It is the first of its kind," was the smiling reply.
+
+"You will not let me help you, then, in any way?" said Mr. Kent.
+
+"There is nothing you can do for me," said the young man, gratefully.
+
+"If you take my advice," continued the magistrate, "you will send for
+some clever lawyer; tell him the truth, whatever it may be, and while
+preserving your incognito, he may be able to do something for you. I
+should certainly do so in your place."
+
+"I think not," he replied; "the less stir made about it the better.
+Surely in the crowd of a criminal court and in the prison dress, I shall
+escape recognition?"
+
+"An admission," thought the magistrate, "that he has concealed his
+identity."
+
+"I cannot tell; I think it doubtful."
+
+"Well, whatever comes, I shall always he grateful to you, Mr. Kent, for
+your interest in me."
+
+"I am sorry you will not trust me," said the magistrate, rising to leave
+the cell.
+
+"I am still more sorry that I cannot," was the reply, and then the
+prisoner was left alone.
+
+He did not look much like a thief; there was a light on his face such as
+one sees in the pictures of the martyrs, a clear fire in the gray eyes.
+
+"My ancestors have smiled with their heads on a block," he said.
+"Surely, with such a motive, I may bear six months of prison."
+
+The day of his trial came. The report of it in the papers read as
+follows:
+
+"John Smith, aged twenty, occupation unknown, was charged by Count Jules
+St. Croix with stealing from his room an ivory casket, containing a
+watch and an antique ring of great value. The prisoner, who refused to
+give any account of himself, pleaded guilty; he made no defence, and had
+retained no counsel. The judge made a few remarks to the effect that it
+was very hard to see a young man, evidently possessed of some education
+and refinement, in such a position, then sentenced him to six months'
+imprisonment without hard labor. Prisoner made no remark, and was then
+removed."
+
+The papers did not tell of a little incident that occurred, simply
+because the reporters did not know it. During the hearing of the case,
+which did not last long, one of the leading barristers, Mr. Macfarlane,
+sat with his eyes riveted on the prisoner's face, his own growing very
+pale and anxious; then he wrote a little note, which he dispatched by a
+messenger, who soon returned, accompanied by Mr. Forster, one of the
+most celebrated lawyers in Lincoln's Inn.
+
+He spoke a few words to Mr. Macfarlane.
+
+"Nonsense!" he said; "the idea is incredible, impossible, even. What can
+have made you think of such a thing?"
+
+"Stand here in my place; you cannot see over all those heads. Now look
+well at him. Am I right or wrong?"
+
+A strange gray look came over Mr. Forster's face.
+
+"I--I believe you are right," he said. "My God! what can this mean?"
+
+"Look now! his face is turned this way! Look!" cried Mr. Macfarlane,
+eagerly.
+
+"It is he!" cried the lawyer, and he stood like one turned to stone,
+then recovering himself, he said quickly:
+
+"Why is he here? What is he charged with?"
+
+Mr. Macfarlane whispered into the lawyer's ear:
+
+"With stealing a watch and ring from the room of Count Jules St. Croix."
+
+"Absurd!" was the reply, in accents of the deepest contempt; "what
+idiotic nonsense! He steal a watch! I could believe myself mad or
+dreaming."
+
+"Then," said Mr. Macfarlane. "he has pleaded guilty; he has made no
+defence, engaged no counsel."
+
+"The boy is mad! completely mad!" cried the lawyer.
+
+"Hush!" said the barrister; "the judge is speaking."
+
+Mr. Forster stood in a most impatient mood, while the grave, clear voice
+of the judge sentenced the prisoner. Then he turned to the barrister
+abruptly.
+
+"I tell you," he cried, "the boy is mad! Steal a watch! Why, he could
+buy one-half the watches in London if he liked. I must see him. Come
+this way."
+
+"No," said Mr. Macfarlane, "he evidently does not wish to be known. I
+shall not go near him."
+
+"If he got into trouble, why in the world did he not send for me or for
+some one else?" said the lawyer to himself. "It must be a young man's
+frolic, a wager, a bet. He has spirit enough for anything. He never
+could have been such a mad fool as to wreck his life for a paltry
+watch."
+
+Mr. Forster went to the room, where with other prisoners, John Smith
+stood, awaiting his removal in the prison van. He went up to him and
+touched him on the shoulder.
+
+"Is it really you?" he cried, and the luminous gray eyes smiled into
+his.
+
+"Ah! Forster, I am sorry to see you. What has brought you here?"
+
+"It is you," said the lawyer. "I was in hopes that my senses deceived
+me."
+
+"I hope you will keep the fact of having seen me here a profound
+secret."
+
+"But in the name of heaven, what does it mean?" cried Mr. Forster. "You
+know you have not attempted to steal a watch. Pardon me, but how dare
+you plead guilty? You will cover yourself with disgrace and infamy. You
+will break your mother's heart. You will be utterly ruined for life."
+
+"My dear Forster, no one knows of my being here, and no one need know
+except yourself."
+
+"You are mistaken; you have been recognized. I was sent for to identify
+you."
+
+Then the proud face did grow pale, but the proud light did not die out
+of the gray eyes.
+
+"I am sorry for it, but I cannot help it. I must 'dree my weird.'"
+
+Mr. Forster stood looking at him like one stupefied.
+
+"If the sun had fallen from the heavens," he said, "it would not have
+surprised me more. Surely, surely you are going to trust me and tell me
+what this means?"
+
+"I cannot. Go on with everything just the same. Tell my mother I have
+gone abroad for six months, and if you value my name, keep my secret
+from spreading, if you can."
+
+And then a rough voice called John Smith to the prison van.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+The Papers Again.
+
+
+Mr. Foster went home in a terrible rage. His clerks could not imagine
+what had happened. He looked pale, worried, anxious and miserable. "I
+should not think," he said to himself, "that such a thing ever happened
+in the world before." His clients thought him bad tempered; he had the
+air of a man with whom everything had gone wrong--out of sorts with all
+the world.
+
+"The man is mad," he said to himself, with a shrug of his shoulders;
+"neither more nor less than mad to fling away his life and disgrace his
+name. It is useless to think it will never be known; those stupid papers
+are sure to get hold of it, and then there is little chance of secrecy."
+
+He went about his work with a very unsettled, wretched expression on his
+shrewd face. Something or other had evidently disturbed him very much.
+While on his part John Smith, with the same light in his face and the
+same fire in his eyes, went off in the prison van.
+
+He heard very little of what was going on around him. He seemed to be
+quite apart in some dreamland, some world of his own. When the coarse
+suit of prison clothes was brought to him, instead of the disgust the
+attendants expected to see, there came over his face a smile. To himself
+he said: "I could almost kiss them for her sweet sake."
+
+"That man is no thief," said one of the warders. "I do not care if they
+did catch him with the watch in his hand, he is no thief! I know the
+stamp!"
+
+How he passed that first day and night was best known to himself. The
+jailer who brought his breakfast the next morning said, "You look
+tired."
+
+He smiled and said to himself, "I would have gone to death for her sweet
+sake! This will be easy to bear."
+
+When that same morning dawned Mr. Forster was all impatience for his
+newspaper. Twice he rang the bell and asked if it had come, and when the
+servant brought it up he looked at it eagerly.
+
+"Give it to me quickly," he said. Then he opened it, and was soon
+engrossed in the contents. Suddenly he flung it down, and almost stamped
+upon it in his rage.
+
+"I knew it would be so! Now it will be blazoned all over England! What
+can have possessed him?"
+
+The paragraph that excited his attention and anger ran as follows:
+
+"We are informed on good authority that the John Smith tried yesterday
+on the charge of stealing a watch is no less a person than Basil
+Carruthers, Esquire, the owner of Ulverston Priory, and head of one of
+the oldest families in England."
+
+"What can I do?" cried Mr. Forster; "it will break his mother's heart;
+she can never forget it. He is ruined for life. For a lawyer, I am
+strangely unwilling to tell a lie; but it must be done! He must be saved
+at any price!" He went to his desk and wrote the following note:
+
+     "To the Editor of 'The Times':
+
+     "Sir: I beg to call your attention to a paragraph that appears in
+     'The Times' of today stating that a man, tried under the name of
+     John Smith for stealing a watch, is no less a person than Basil
+     Carruthers, Esq., of Ulverston Priory. As the solicitor of that
+     family, and manager of the Ulverston property, I beg to contradict
+     it. Mr. Carruthers, himself, informed me of his intention to go
+     abroad. Without doubt his indignant denial will follow mine. I am,
+     sir, etc.,
+
+     "Herbert Forster."
+
+"That may help him," he said. "I do not like doing it, but I cannot see
+my old friend's son perish without trying to save him. I may fail, but I
+must try. Perhaps my lie may be blotted out, like Uncle Toby's oath. If
+I can persuade him to send a denial, and date it Paris or Vienna, he
+will be saved."
+
+Mr. Forster lost no time in applying for an order to see the prisoner.
+It was granted at once.
+
+Basil Carruthers--we may use his right name now--looked up in surprise
+when Mr. Forster, with the paper in his hand, entered the cell.
+
+"Back again?" he said.
+
+"Yes; it is just as I expected; the papers have got hold of your name,
+and there is a grand expose."
+
+Basil held out his hand and read the paragraph.
+
+"It is enough to make your father rise up from his grave," said the
+lawyer; "I cannot understand what madness, what infatuation, has come
+over you, to drag such a proud name as yours through the dust."
+
+"So it is known," said Basil, slowly. "Well, I cannot help it."
+
+"I have done my best," said Mr. Forster. "I have never yet asked you if
+you stole the watch--the idea is too absurd."
+
+"They are so far right that I was found in the room; nothing else
+matters."
+
+"I can only imagine that the same folly which has brought you here will
+keep you here," said Mr. Forster. "The only thing to be done is to send
+a denial to the papers. If you will write one, I will go to Paris myself
+to post it."
+
+Basil Carruthers laughed contemptuously.
+
+"I shield myself behind a lie!" he said. "Never!"
+
+"You are too late," replied Mr. Forster; "I have already written, and
+sent, a very indignant denial, saying you have gone abroad."
+
+Basil's face grew pale, as it had not done during that trial; then an
+angry fire flashed from his eyes.
+
+"And you have dared to do this?" he cried. "You have dared to publish a
+lie to screen a Carruthers?"
+
+"I would have dared a great deal more to have saved you from public
+ignominy," said Mr. Forster.
+
+"Do not apply that word to me!" said Basil, angrily.
+
+"If I do not, every one else will. Your position is ignominious, Mr.
+Carruthers; the paltry crime you are charged with is the same; and the
+name that for centuries has been honored in England will be low in the
+dust, sir. I would rather have been dead than have seen such a day."
+
+The handsome young face changed slightly; evidently these thoughts had
+not occurred to him; he seemed to seek solace from some inward source of
+comfort of which the lawyer knew nothing.
+
+"I must bear it," he said, unflinchingly.
+
+"There is but one thing you can do," said Mr. Forster; "only one means
+of escape--write a letter at once containing a most indignant denial of
+the identity. I will go myself purposely to Paris and post it there."
+
+"My dear Forster," said the young man with a smile of languid contempt,
+"I would not ransom my life, even, with a lie!"
+
+"In my opinion," said the lawyer, bluntly, "you have done worse in
+pleading guilty--you have acted a lie, at least."
+
+"I know my own motive. I am the best judge of my own actions."
+
+"Certainly," was the sarcastic reply. "I should not think any young man
+of your prospects was ever in such a position before."
+
+"Perhaps, as I said before, no man ever had the same motive," and a look
+of heroism and high resolve came over his face which astonished the
+lawyer.
+
+"In the name of your dead father," he said, "who held the honor of his
+house so dear, I pray of you to write that letter!"
+
+"Not to save my head from the block!" he replied. "I am here, and I must
+bear all that follows. I had hoped to preserve my incognito. If I
+cannot, well, I must bear the shame."
+
+"And your mother?" asked the lawyer.
+
+"My poor mother! Perhaps, after all, you had better go down to Ulverston
+and tell her! She will begin to wonder where I am. Besides, the London
+house must be attended to."
+
+"If I know Lady Carruthers rightly," said the lawyer, "she will never
+get over the blow."
+
+"Tell her that I am here, and why, but tell her also that I refuse to
+give an explanation to any human being. Tell her the honor of the
+Carruthers seals my lips; try to comfort her if she seems distressed; do
+all she wishes you."
+
+"How am I to comfort a mother whose eldest and only son has thrown all
+prudence to the wind; who has disgraced himself so far as to stand in a
+felon's dock; who has wantonly laid his life bare and waste--for what?"
+
+A strange smile came over the young face.
+
+"Ah! for what! I know; no one else does. There is a reward, and it
+satisfies me."
+
+"If ever a Carruthers went mad," said Mr. Forster, angrily, "I should
+say you were mad now!"
+
+Basil paid no heed to the remark.
+
+"The only thing I can do," he said, "I will do. I will go to Vienna as
+soon as I leave here. I will not remain in London one-half hour."
+
+"I fear your compliance will be too late then," he said. "I must leave
+you, if I go to Ulverston this evening. I have several matters that I
+must attend to. Will any persuasion of mine induce you to alter your
+mind?"
+
+"No; though I thank you for your interest."
+
+And the lawyer left the young man's cell with something like a moan upon
+his lips.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+Ulverston Priory.
+
+
+During his walk from the prison to his office, Mr. Forster was stopped
+several times.
+
+"Is this rumor about young Carruthers true?" asked Sir James Hamlyn,
+anxiously.
+
+"No," replied the little lawyer, stoutly, "the paragraph is a joke, and
+if we can find out the author of it, he will be punished."
+
+"Serve him right. I told Lady Hamlyn there was some absurd mistake. Very
+glad to hear it. Good morning."
+
+"Mr. Forster, stop one moment!" cried Major Every; "surely this tale of
+Carruthers stealing a watch is all false?"
+
+"False as the foul fiend himself," said the little man, in a rage.
+
+"I knew it--I said so. Young men with twenty thousand a year do not
+steal. A likely story! What does it mean, then?"
+
+"Some one who owes him an ill-turn has played this sorry jest upon him;
+but we shall pay him."
+
+"He deserves transportation. I do not know a nobler young fellow in all
+the world than Basil Carruthers." A fashionable carriage was standing at
+his office door when he reached it.
+
+"The Countess of Northdown waiting to see you, sir," said the clerk.
+
+Entering his private room he saw a lovely lady, fashionably attired, who
+greeted him with exquisite grace. Her face was very pale and her lips
+quivered as she spoke to him.
+
+"Good morning, Mr. Forster. You will be surprised to see me, but knowing
+you are the family solicitor, I called to ask you if this shocking story
+about Mr. Carruthers is true."
+
+"Heaven have mercy on me this day," thought the lawyer, "my soul is
+steeped in lies."
+
+"Certainly not, Lady Northdown. Mr. Carruthers is abroad. The fact of
+the matter is, the prisoner resembles him, as a vile caricature does, at
+times, resemble the original, and some would-be wag who saw it, thought
+the writing of this absurd paragraph a great joke."
+
+"He deserves shooting," said my lady, angrily.
+
+"That may be his fate, when Mr. Carruthers catches him," was the grim
+reply.
+
+"I told Lord Northdown it was all nonsense," she continued. "I am much
+obliged to you for your kindness, Mr. Forster."
+
+There was a rustle of silken robes, a stirring of sweet perfume, and
+then Lady Northdown was gone, only to be succeeded by another and
+another, until the lawyer gave himself up for lost on account of the
+many falsehoods he had told.
+
+"Tomorrow my contradiction will set all this straight," he thought;
+"especially if it be followed by a letter from my lady, and I must
+compel her to write. I would as soon try to drive wild oxen as to
+persuade a Carruthers."
+
+He was not able to start for Ulverston until the end of the afternoon.
+It was full two hours' ride by rail from London, and all the way there
+the lawyer was worrying himself with conjectures, and trying to solve
+what he thought honestly the greatest mystery he had ever known.
+
+It was six o'clock on a bright May evening when he reached Ulverston.
+
+He ordered a fly, and drove at once to the Priory. More than half that
+busy town of Rutsford belonged to the Carruthers. They were lords of the
+manor, masters of the soil. To them belonged also the fertile lands, the
+profitable farms, the hop gardens, and broad meadows that stretched
+between Rutsford and the Priory.
+
+As the lawyer drove through this rich inheritance, his wonder increased.
+
+What could possess any man blessed with such a birthright to place
+himself in so false and degraded a position?
+
+Then the carriage entered the Ulverston woods, said by connoisseurs to
+be the finest and most picturesque in England. Such a glorious sight on
+this May evening as made the lawyer's heart beat, though many years had
+passed since the fountain of poetry flowed for him. The hawthorn and
+chestnut trees were all in flower; the maple and ash wore their most
+luxuriant foliage. The grand old oaks in their leafy boughs concealed
+myriads of singing birds; underneath the shade of the trees, the blue
+hyacinths stretched out like the waves of the azure sea, the violets hid
+their modest heads, great golden primroses shone like stars from the
+midst of green leaves. The air was sweet and warm; the music of the
+birds and the whispers of the wind were full of melody.
+
+"A man possessed of all this," thought Mr. Forster again; "he must be
+mad."
+
+Then the carriage stopped before the grand entrance of one of the most
+magnificent mansions in England. Ulverston Priory--whose beauty has been
+described, in prose and in verse, by pens more eloquent than mine.
+
+"Is Lady Carruthers at home?" asked Mr. Forster of the stately old
+butler.
+
+"My lady is at home, sir."
+
+"Will you ask if it is convenient for me to see her? I have come hastily
+from London on important business."
+
+With all the solemnity an old family retainer displays on such
+occasions, the butler led the way to the library.
+
+"I will send your message to my lady at once, sir."
+
+He went away and soon returned.
+
+"My lady is dressing, but she will be with you in a few minutes." He
+placed a decanter of the famous Ulverston sherry on the table, and
+withdrew. Mr. Forster gladly helped himself to a glass. "I would take
+that or anything else to give me courage," he said to himself. "How am I
+to tell her? I know not."
+
+In a quarter of an hour the door opened, and a stately lady,
+magnificently dressed, entered the room. She was very dignified, of
+queenly presence and bearing, with the remains of great beauty in her
+face.
+
+She bowed most courteously to the lawyer, and held out her white,
+jeweled hand.
+
+"Good evening, Mr. Forster," she said; "your visit has taken me by
+surprise. You are well. I hope?"
+
+"Quite well, Lady Carruthers, myself. Quite well, I thank you."
+
+But his manner was so confused, his face so flushed, that the stately
+lady looked at him in wonder.
+
+"And my son, Mr. Forster! Have you seen him lately? Have you left him
+well?"
+
+"He was in perfect health, Lady Carruthers, when I saw him last,"
+replied the lawyer, stiffly.
+
+"I am glad of it. I have no wish to complain, but I have not heard from
+my son lately. He has not time to write, I suppose."
+
+"There will be no use in beating about the bush," the lawyer thought. "I
+had better speak plainly at once."
+
+"Lady Carruthers," he said, "have you seen today's 'Times'?"
+
+"No," she replied; "I have been so deeply engaged with visitors, I have
+really not opened it."
+
+"Then I must ask you to prepare yourself for something very
+disagreeable. I wish I knew how to save you from the knowledge--but I do
+not."
+
+The diamond necklace rose and fell as though she breathed heavily; her
+face grew quite white.
+
+"Does it concern my son, Mr. Carruthers?" she asked.
+
+"Alas, that I must say yes, Lady Carruthers," he answered; "I am not a
+man of sentiment, but I would give many years of my life to spare you
+this pain."
+
+"Is he dead?" she asked, hoarsely.
+
+"No, it is not so bad as that," he replied.
+
+"Not death; and I know it is not disgrace. I can bear what you have to
+tell me, Mr. Forster."
+
+He took both papers from his pocket and laid them before her.
+
+"Read this paragraph first," he said; "and then this."
+
+She did as he wished. When she read the second, her proud face flushed,
+and she drew her figure to its full height.
+
+"What does this mean?" she said, contemptuously. "My son, Mr.
+Carruthers, charged with stealing a watch? What does it mean, Mr.
+Forster?"
+
+"Lady Carruthers," said the lawyer, "it is true. I was in court when
+your son, under the name of John Smith, pleaded guilty to the charge of
+getting in the room belonging to Count Jules St. Croix, and I, myself,
+heard him sentenced to six months' imprisonment."
+
+She sat for some minutes, silent, mute and motionless. Then in a low
+voice she asked: "Is he mad?"
+
+"That was my first thought. It is some weeks since I had seen him, and
+yesterday morning a note was brought to my office, from a gentleman in
+court, telling me your son was in the dock. I hastened there and found
+it true. You may imagine how quickly I followed him and implored of him
+to tell me the mystery, for mystery I feel sure there is. Instead of
+looking ashamed of himself and miserable, he had a light in his face
+that puzzled me. I blamed him, told him the consequences--how his life
+would be useless to him after this, but he only smiled; my words made no
+impression on him; he evidently derived comfort and support from some
+source known to himself and no others."
+
+"And is it possible?" asked Lady Carruthers, with ghastly face; "does he
+lie in prison now?"
+
+"He does indeed, and there he must remain until the six months are
+ended."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+Lady Carruthers.
+
+
+My lady rose from her seat with an air of almost tragical dignity.
+
+"My son in prison!" she cried; "I cannot believe it. What has come over
+him? Can you explain the mystery to me, Mr. Forster?"
+
+"I cannot--the only thing that occurs to me is that he has gone to this
+count's room for some purpose that he will confide to no one, and that
+he has taken the watch in his hands and was discovered with it. He asked
+me to tell you that the honor of the Carruthers sealed his lips."
+
+"Did he say that--my Basil, Mr. Forster? If that be the case, rest
+assured--although I blush to say it--there is a woman in it. I can
+imagine Basil capable of suffering anything from a mistaken motive of
+chivalry. Do you know with whom Mr. Carruthers has chiefly associated
+since he has been in town?"
+
+"I do not. I know that he has been in a very fast and fashionable set;
+he told me as much; also that he has spent a good deal of money. One
+check for three thousand pounds vanished in a day, and he gave no
+account of it."
+
+"Three thousand pounds!" cried Lady Carruthers; "yet he neither drank,
+betted nor gambled."
+
+"No," said the lawyer; "Mr. Carruthers told me he had never touched a
+card and never would. I know he did not care for betting."
+
+The proud, anxious mother raised her eyes to the lawyer's face. "How,
+then, do you think he has got through it?"
+
+"I cannot tell. You must pardon me, my lady, if I remind you that
+although I am family solicitor, agent and manager of the property, I am
+not the guardian of your son."
+
+"I know," she said, clasping her hands. "I little thought he would ever
+need a guardian; he seemed all that was honorable and upright. I cannot
+imagine what has changed him. I regret so bitterly that I let him go to
+London alone."
+
+"It is a terrible position," said the lawyer; "the only thing is to
+clear him as much as we can. The moment I read this I wrote an answer
+and sent it to the 'Times' to the effect that Mr. Carruthers had gone
+abroad."
+
+A slight frown came over the delicate face.
+
+"I implored Mr. Carruthers to write an indignant denial, and to let me
+go to Paris to post it, but he would not hear of such a thing; the very
+idea seemed offensive to him. I hope, Lady Carruthers, to induce you to
+write such a letter."
+
+"What kind of a letter?" she asked.
+
+"One to the editor of the 'Times' denying the report, and saying that
+your son has gone abroad."
+
+"But that would be grossly untrue," she said.
+
+"Yes, yes! I know that, still if we can save him, we should."
+
+"I will try any honorable means you choose to suggest," she replied;
+"but not even to save my son from death could I consent to write or
+publish a lie."
+
+"Of course you know best, Lady Carruthers," said the lawyer, with a
+shrug of the shoulders. "Words are but words, and very few of them might
+have saved your son from public shame."
+
+"I have never yet believed in the success of a lie," said her ladyship.
+
+"Pardon me," said Mr. Forster, grimly, "then you have forgotten the
+pages of history. I came down purposely to persuade your ladyship to do
+this. I am well aware that at first sight it seems contrary to all one's
+notions of truth and honor, but there is so much at stake. My denial,
+couched in strong terms, will appear tomorrow. If it were succeeded by a
+letter from your ladyship, written in the same strain, people would
+laugh and believe that it was a great mistake. I had so many inquiries
+this morning before I left London, and I gave the same answer to all,
+that it was the sorry jest of an evil-disposed person. If your ladyship
+would but second my efforts, all would be well; we could get him through
+in safety."
+
+But Lady Carruthers had risen from her seat and stood with her proud
+figure drawn to its utmost height.
+
+"I will do anything you propose, save tell a lie. If my son can be
+rescued by no other means, he must bear his punishment."
+
+"Then my journey is in vain," said Mr. Forster. "I may return to London
+at once."
+
+"No," said Lady Carruthers; "I cannot allow you to return after that
+long journey--you must stay and dine with us. Pardon me," she said,
+seeing that he looked hurt and uncomfortable. "I have spoken strongly,
+but truth has always been far dearer to me than life. I do full justice
+to your motives. I appreciate your kindness, but in this manner I cannot
+help you. Stay and take dinner with us; then we can consult as to what
+is best to be done."
+
+"May I give your ladyship one piece of advice?" said the lawyer. "Have
+the papers--yesterday's and today's--destroyed, so that no rumor of
+anything amiss can reach your servants; also say nothing of it--it may
+possibly die away, as some rumors do. Your visitors and friends will not
+broach such a subject to you, I am sure."
+
+"I shall not mention it," she replied; "although Marion will be sure to
+suspect something wrong." At that moment the last dressing-bell rang.
+
+"You will join us in a few minutes," said Lady Carruthers; "never mind
+your traveling-dress; Miss Hautville and I are quite alone."
+
+No one who saw Lady Carruthers leave the library with stately step and
+dignified air, would have believed that she had received a blow which
+laid her life and all her hopes in ruins--as the lightning smites the
+lofty oak. She went back to her sumptuous bedroom that she had left half
+an hour ago, so calm and serene, so unconscious of coming evil. Looking
+in the mirror, she saw her face was deadly pale--there was no trace of
+color left on it, and deep lines had come on her brow that had been so
+calm.
+
+"It will not do to look so pale," said Lady Carruthers; and from one of
+the mysterious little drawers she took a small powder puff that soon
+remedied the evil.
+
+Then she went to the dining-room. Miss Hautville and Mr. Forster were
+talking together like old acquaintances, and the three sat down to
+dinner together.
+
+Mr. Forster was, as he himself often said, a grim old lawyer, without
+any poetry or romance, but even he could not sit opposite the pale, pure
+loveliness of Marion Hautville unmoved; there was something about her
+that reminded one irresistibly of starlight, delicate, graceful, holy
+veiled loveliness. She was slender and graceful, with a figure that was
+charming now, but that promised, in years to come, to be superb; the
+same promise of magnificent womanhood was in the lovely delicate face.
+The pure profile, the delicate brows, the shining hair, braided Madonna
+fashion, were all beautiful, but looking at her, one realized there was
+greater beauty to come.
+
+She looked across the table with a smile.
+
+"And now, Mr. Forster, you have told me how London looks; tell me
+something about my cousin, Mr. Carruthers."
+
+He made some indifferent answer, and as he did so, he thought to
+himself:
+
+"Can it be possible, that with a chance of winning this lovely girl--one
+of the richest heiresses in London--that Basil Carruthers has given his
+heart to some worthless creature, who has spent his money and helped him
+to prison?"
+
+A question that, if our readers will kindly follow us, we will answer in
+the succeeding chapters.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+Youth Full of Beauty and Promise.
+
+
+There was no man of greater note in England than the late Royston
+Carruthers, Esq., Lord of the Manor of Rutsford. He was one of the
+ablest statesmen and finest orators in England. He had been returned for
+the Borough of Rutsford for many years, without opposition. To hear him
+make a speech was a decided treat; a handsome man of stately presence,
+he invested every word with new dignity. The grand volume of sound
+rolled on in one continuous stream; the ideas he expressed were noble,
+the sentiments patriotic and exalted; his gestures were full of
+animation and grace.
+
+Royston Carruthers had done great service to his country in his time. He
+had advocated several important measures; his eloquence had facilitated
+the introduction of several bills; his country thought well of him, and
+for a wonder, was grateful to him.
+
+Government offered him the title of Baron Rutsford of Rutsford, and he
+had declined it, saying that his ancestors had for years asked no higher
+title than that of Lord of the Manor, and he valued his name--Carruthers
+of Ulverston--too highly to ever exchange it for another.
+
+In the very pride and zenith of his prosperity he married the Lady
+Hildegarde Blenholme, the only daughter of the Duke of Blenholme. She
+was a very beautiful and accomplished woman--proud to a fault, but
+generous and noble in disposition. They had one child, Basil, and while
+he was yet a boy, his father died, worn out with work and over-exertion.
+He left his wife, Lady Hildegarde Carruthers, sole guardian of the boy,
+expressing a wish that she should bring him up to resemble herself in
+mind and disposition as far as it was possible.
+
+Three years after the great statesman's death, a cousin of Lady
+Hildegarde died, leaving her only child, Marion Hautville, under the
+sole care and guardianship of the mistress of Ulverston Priory.
+
+"Bring her up as you would a daughter of your own," wrote the dying
+mother. "She has a large fortune--save her from fortune-hunters."
+
+And Lady Carruthers scrupulously carried out her kinswoman's wish. She
+took the girl to her own home, Ulverston Priory; she superintended her
+education; she brought her up in simple, refined habits--succeeded in
+making of her a perfect lady and a noble woman.
+
+Then the dearest wish of her heart was to see her son, the heir to
+Ulverston, marry Marion Hautville, one of the loveliest girls and
+wealthiest heiresses in England. She was far too wise ever to express
+such a wish openly, none the less it was deeply engraven on her heart.
+They were warmly attached to each other and Lady Carruthers fancied that
+she already saw some signs of liking on the part of Marion for Basil.
+
+While Miss Hautville pursued her quiet, ordinary course of education
+under Lady Carruthers' roof, Basil went through Eton and Oxford; at both
+places he gained high honors and at both places he succeeded in puzzling
+his tutors and masters. He was of such a peculiar disposition;
+chivalrous, romantic, brave, yet with something about him--they could
+not define what, but quite unlike other boys.
+
+He did not evince any taste for any particular branch of study; he had
+no inclination for the navy, for serving his country as his father had
+done before him. In fact, it was difficult to tell in what direction his
+taste really lay. Still, he left college with high honors, and his
+masters prophesied great things for him.
+
+"He will make himself famous some day," they wrote to his anxious
+mother. "In the mean time, let him see something of the world, and you
+will know in what direction his talent lies."
+
+So, crowded with honors, he came home to Ulverston. He was eighteen then
+and one of the handsomest young men England could boast. No barber's
+beauty; strong, comely, of noble bearing, with a face that had come to
+him from the crusaders of old.
+
+Then Lady Hildegarde set herself to work to discover what manner of man
+her son was. She was puzzled; he was brave, generous, full of high
+spirits, truthful, even to bluntness. She could not discover any grave
+fault in him. She thanked God he had no vices, no mean faults, no
+contemptible failings.
+
+"Basil," she said to him, one evening, as the three sat around the
+drawing-room fire. "Confess now, do you not like and admire the olden
+times better than these?"
+
+"Yes," he replied; "I always did."
+
+"I knew it," said Lady Hildegarde; "I understand now what has always
+puzzled everyone who has had the care of you. You were born two hundred
+years too late; the ancient days of knight errantry and chivalry would
+have suited you better than these."
+
+"It is your fault, mother," he replied. "When I was only twelve years
+old, you gave me a beautiful edition of Froissart's Chronicles, and
+everything else has seemed dull and tame to me since."
+
+"I thought as much," she said, quietly; "you make the same mistake
+others have made before you; you live in the past, not in the present."
+
+"You are right, mother; in these days, there seems to me nothing to do."
+
+"Your father thought differently," she said; "he died from overwork."
+
+"Ah! my dear father was a genius," said the young man, thoughtfully, and
+for some minutes there was silence between them.
+
+"I can understand you," said Lady Hildegarde, with a smile; "you would
+like to have been a knight, always looking out for some romantic
+adventure; you would have fought giants, released distressed
+princesses."
+
+"Overthrown all wrong and upheld all right," he said; "that would have
+been my vocation."
+
+Lady Hildegarde went over to him and laid her hand on his head. "My
+dearest boy, you are young yet, but will live to see that there is as
+much to be done in the way of redressing wrong now as there was in the
+days when knights rode forth to do battle for lady fair."
+
+"I want some romantic adventure," he said; "I cannot see much in the
+plain, common ways of man. I should like to do something that would make
+me a hero at once, something brave and glorious."
+
+"My dear boy," she said; "God grant you may learn to distinguish true
+from false, true romance from mere sentiment, true gold from mere
+glitter."
+
+He looked so eager, so handsome, she kissed him with passionate love.
+
+"I should like to have been one of King Arthur's knights," he said,
+musingly.
+
+"My dear Basil," said his mother; "your mind is chaos. I tell you there
+are giants to be fought, hydra-headed ones--the giants of ignorance, of
+wickedness, of injustice, and they call for a sharper, keener sword than
+that wielded by the knights of old."
+
+And there came into her heart a great fear lest her boy, who had too
+much imagination, too much ideality, would waste his life in dreams.
+
+"I will tell you, Basil," said Marion Hautville; "what I call a great
+hero. The man who does his duty perfectly in the state of life in which
+God has placed him."
+
+"We all do that," replied Basil.
+
+"Indeed we do not--you do not, to begin with. You ought now, instead of
+dreaming about Froissart and his barbaric times, you ought to be
+studying hard how to make a good master of this large estate--how to
+employ the vast wealth given to you--how best to serve your God, your
+country and those who will depend upon you."
+
+"Solomon in petticoats!" cried Basil, gaily, and Marion joined in his
+laugh.
+
+That conversation gave Lady Carruthers many uneasy moments. She
+understood so well the dreamy, yet ardent, romantic temperament of the
+boy.
+
+"What shall I make of him?" she said. "Will he ever learn to live
+contentedly here at Ulverston, doing his duty, as Marion says, to God
+and man? My poor Basil, he lives too late!"
+
+She asked advice from those best fitted to give it. One and all said the
+same thing; there would be nothing so useful for him as a tour on the
+Continent, seeing plenty of the world and going into society.
+
+So Lady Carruthers, who loved home very dearly, gave up its peaceful
+tranquillity, and went with Basil and Miss Hautville to Paris, where
+they remained some months until they saw all that was most brilliant in
+that brilliant capital; from there to Berlin; then on to Vienna, and
+Basil lost much of his dreamy nature.
+
+He was eager, ardent, impetuous, longing, as is the fashion of young
+men, to do brave deeds, to be a great hero, and not in the least knowing
+what to do.
+
+He was just twenty when they returned home, at the commencement of the
+year; Lady Carruthers, worn out with travel and excitement, longing for
+rest. There was more to be done--her son had been presented at most of
+the courts of Europe; he must attend the first levees held in London
+this season.
+
+The Carruthers had a magnificent mansion in Belgravia. Miss Hautville
+begged for one year more of seclusion and privacy, so that Lady
+Hildegarde and her son went to London alone. She remained there for a
+week, and then, finding her son afloat in London society, she returned
+to Ulverston.
+
+And Basil Carruthers, the dreamy, ardent, romantic boy, remained in
+London alone.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+A Modern Bayard.
+
+
+Perhaps Lady Carruthers never did a more unwise thing than when she left
+her son, with his peculiar temperament and notions, to go through a
+London season alone. She honestly believed herself to be doing right.
+She was ill and unable to bear the whirl of fashion and gaiety. She
+could not withdraw him from town to spend the gayest month of the year
+in seclusion.
+
+"Leave him to me, Hildegarde," said her cousin, Colonel Mostyn. "I will
+pilot him safely through the rocks and deep waters; nothing makes a man
+as self-reliant as feeling that he is trusted entirely."
+
+And knowing that Colonel Mostyn was an elderly man, who knew about as
+much as there was to know of life in all its phases, Lady Hildegarde had
+no scruples.
+
+The colonel and the young squire were most luxuriously established at
+Roche House, the Carruthers' family mansion in Belgravia. Lady
+Hildegarde made every arrangement for keeping up the establishment in
+all bachelor's comforts. There was an excellent housekeeper, one who had
+been at Ulverston Priory for many years.
+
+"You will be able to give some good dinner-parties," she said to her
+son; "bachelor dinners--bien entender--for Mrs. Richards is an excellent
+housekeeper."
+
+Assured and satisfied that all would go well, she left London. She
+hesitated as to whether she should give her son any warning about love
+or marriage, then decided that it would be quite useless.
+
+"The boy is naturally so fastidious and refined," she thought; "he will
+never love beneath him. He will see no one so nice as Marion."
+
+So Lady Hildegarde Carruthers went to her stately home, little dreaming
+of the fatal news that was to follow her.
+
+Basil cared little for the fashions and frivolities of the day; Colonel
+Mostyn tried to laugh him out of his romantic and chivalrous ideas.
+
+"You are behind the age, Basil--quite unfit for it," he would say to
+him. "Chevalier Bayard would not be appreciated in these times."
+
+He listened with a smile on his face, while the young man talked of
+something to do--some grand action to fill up his life, some heroic deed
+with which to crown himself.
+
+"Utopian, Basil--all those are Utopian ideas. Progress is the order of
+the day."
+
+"Is there nothing?" asked Basil, "no way in which a man may distinguish
+himself after the fashion of the heroes of old?"
+
+The colonel smiled sarcastically.
+
+"My dear boy," he said, "between ourselves, some of those heroes of
+yours were unmitigated ruffians, I hardly like to give utterance to such
+a sentiment, yet I believe it. You cannot defend a bridge after the
+fashion of Horatius--you cannot conquer worlds like Alexander. I fancy
+you will have to be content with being one of the best lords of the
+manor Rutsford has ever known."
+
+"You are sentimental, Basil," he said to him one morning, "but not
+practical. A man is nothing unless he is practical. Why not give up all
+these foolish notions of being a great hero? Go down to Ulverston,
+build schools, almhouses, mechanics' institutes and all that kind of
+thing. Marry and bring up your family to fear God and serve the queen.
+One ounce of such practice is worth all the theory in the world."
+
+But Basil could not see it--he longed for the unattainable, the ideal.
+What lay plainly before him was a matter of great indifference to him.
+
+Colonel Mostyn, the keen, cynical man of the world, was, perhaps, the
+best companion he could have had. But the colonel had many anxious
+thoughts over him. At last an idea struck him.
+
+"The finest thing that could happen to Basil would be a very decided
+flirtation with a beautiful, worldly woman, who would laugh him out of
+these fantastic ideas and make a modern man of him."
+
+So thought the colonel, and so has thought many a one before him, little
+dreaming of the danger of playing with fire.
+
+But Basil did not seem to care much for ladies' society. He went to two
+or three grand balls and pronounced them stupid, on hearing which, the
+colonel raised his eyes and hands in horror.
+
+"A young man of twenty who finds a ball stupid is past hope," he said.
+
+There had been a great flutter in the dovecotes when it was known that
+Basil Carruthers, the heir of Ulverston, son of the great statesman, a
+young man whose income was quite twenty thousand per annum, besides the
+savings of a long minority, was in London--free, disengaged, and, as a
+matter of course, wanting a wife. Invitations literally poured in upon
+him--he accepted them at first, but soon grew tired.
+
+"A tres dansantes at Lady Cecilia Gorton's," he said, holding out an
+invitation card at arm's length. "Go, if you like, colonel. I do not
+care for it."
+
+The colonel was engrossed in the buttering of his roll, an operation
+which he always performed himself, but he was sufficiently astonished to
+pause in his proceedings and look at his nephew with a very horrified
+face.
+
+"You do not mean to tell me, Basil, that you are tired of ladies--young
+ladies?"
+
+"My dear colonel," said the young man, quietly, "I am very sorry to tell
+you that I find one chignon very much the same as another."
+
+Colonel Mostyn sighed deeply. What Mentor could make anything out of
+such a Telemachus? He resigned himself, thankful that what he called one
+civilized taste remained--Basil enjoyed the opera.
+
+"I would really sooner see him fall in love with an opera dancer than
+remain what he is," thought the man of the world.
+
+One evening they went to the opera. It was "Lucretia Borgia," and, as
+usual, Basil Carruthers saw nothing but the stage. In vain did the
+unwearied colonel call his attention to Lady Evelyn Hope, the lovely
+blonde; the fascinating Spanish Countess Rosella; to the twin sisters,
+the Ladies Isabel and Marie Duncan--he looked at them without interest.
+
+"I wonder," thought the colonel to himself, "if the woman be living who
+could touch that cold, icy heart!"
+
+The opera was nearly over when he saw Basil looking intently at the
+occupants of a box on the grand tier. He even raised his glass, and sat
+for some minutes oblivious of everything and everyone except one central
+figure. Very quietly and without attracting Basil's attention, Colonel
+Mostyn raised his glass and looked at the box. His gaze was steadfast
+for some minutes, then he gave utterance to a prolonged sigh.
+
+"That will do," he said to himself.
+
+Like the diplomatist that he was, Colonel Mostyn said never a word, but
+when the act was ended, he turned to Basil.
+
+"I see a lady, an old friend of mine, and I am going to spend a few
+minutes with her."
+
+He went to the box, and had the satisfaction of seeing that Basil never
+removed his glass. When he returned to his own seat, the heir of
+Ulverston said, somewhat eagerly:
+
+"Who is that lady, colonel, with whom you have been speaking?"
+
+"My dear boy," he replied, "one chignon is just like another; which do
+you mean?"
+
+"There is no chignon in this case. I mean the lady with whom you have
+been speaking."
+
+"That is Lady Amelie Lisle," he replied, briefly.
+
+"Amelie Lisle!" repeated Basil; "but who is she?"
+
+"If you wish to know her pedigree, you must consult Burke's Peerage. I
+can only remember that she is the daughter of Lord Grayson, who married
+a French duchess, and rumor says she is the loveliest and most
+accomplished woman in England."
+
+"Is she married?" was the next question.
+
+"Yes; she married Lord Lisle, and rumor, always busy with beautiful
+women, says again that she is not too happy. Do you know Lord Lisle?"
+
+"No; I do not remember having ever seen him."
+
+"When you do, you will realize what it is for a man to be all animal. He
+eats well, sleeps well, drinks well; he rides out a great deal in the
+fresh air; he is tall and portly, never, perhaps, read a book through in
+his life, good humored, generous in his way, but obstinate as a--well,
+as a woman."
+
+"And is that lovely lady married to such a man?"
+
+"Yes; the lovely lady was very young, and perhaps his fortune tempted
+her. She is all fire and poetry, plays with passion as children play
+with sharp knives."
+
+"Will you introduce me?" asked Basil Carruthers.
+
+"My dear Basil," replied the wily diplomatist, with an air of assumed
+frankness, "I really do not think you would like her. She is fond of
+balls, of dancing, of all sorts of amusements that you despise. If I
+introduce you to anybody at all, it must be to Minerva in disguise."
+
+"I should not like Minerva," was the abrupt reply.
+
+"Well, as you seem anxious, I will undertake it. We are going to the
+Duchess of Hexham's ball tomorrow evening. Lady Amelie Lisle is sure to
+be there--no grand ball is complete without her. She is so surrounded
+now. I hardly like to interrupt her. Are you going to the Hexham ball?"
+
+Now Basil had said no, he should certainly decline the invitation, but
+he seemed to forget it.
+
+"Certainly I shall go," he said.
+
+"Ah, then we shall see her there," replied the colonel, and his long
+mustache concealed the triumphant smile with which he listened to the
+words.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+Lady Amelie at Home.
+
+
+The poets of old must have been thinking of a woman like Lady Amelie
+when they wrote of circes and sirens, and women whose beauty has proved
+fatal to men. It is perhaps quite as well that they are very rare--the
+power of a beautiful woman is great. If she be good, and use it for a
+good purpose; the world is the better for it. If she be bad, and her
+beauty is simply used as a lure, the world is the worse for it.
+
+Either for good or evil, the power of Lady Amelie was great, for a more
+royally beautiful woman had seldom been seen. She was the very ideal of
+glowing, luxurious loveliness, and her beauty was perhaps the least of
+her charms. She had that wonderful gift of fascination which makes even
+a plain woman irresistible. Allied to beauty so wondrous as hers, it was
+fatal.
+
+It is morning, and Lady Amelie, fresh and radiant as a June rose, is in
+her boudoir, an exquisite little room, hung with pink silk and white
+lace; the windows were draped with pink silk, and the light that came
+through was subdued and rosy, the fairest of all lights in which to see
+a fair woman.
+
+A gem of a room, from which a painter would have made a room glowing in
+luxurious color. The air was heavy with the perfume of white hyacinths
+and daphnes--the jardinieres were filled with the sweetest of flowers;
+Lady Amelie loved them so well; she was never so pleased as when in the
+midst of them. There was a marble Flora, whose hands were filled with
+purple heliotropes--in fact, every beauty that money, taste or luxury
+could suggest, was there. Pale pink was a color that Lady Amelie
+loved--her chairs and couches were covered with it. She is sitting now
+in a pretty, fantastic chair, the subdued rosy light of the room falling
+full upon her. She is reading the fashionable daily paper, smiling as
+some on dits meet her eye. Surely such beauty as that should be
+immortal. No wonder that Basil Carruthers, whose eyes had never rested
+long on a woman's face before, should not weary of hers.
+
+It is the beauty of an empress, royal, commanding, statuesque, yet
+radiant and full of grace. Her figure, as she reclines, is perfection;
+the soft, flowing lines, the gracious curves, the free, unfettered
+grace, the queenly dignity, all combined, enchant one. The head, whose
+contour is simply perfect, is crowned with a mass of dark hair, shining
+like the lustrous wing of some rare bird. The brow is white, rounded at
+the temples and clear as the leaf of the lily. The brows are straight,
+delicate and have in them wonderful expression. But it was Lady Amelie's
+eyes that drew men so irresistibly to her feet. They were irresistible.
+Black, with a languid, golden light in their wondrous depths; full of
+veiled fire and repressed passion. They could melt and flash, persuade
+and command, as no other eyes did. No man ever looked into their depths
+without losing himself there. Her mouth was no less beautiful, tender
+and sensitive; yet those lovely lips could curl with scorn that withered
+and pride that crashed.
+
+She knew that she was beautiful, and she rejoiced in her beauty, as the
+lion in his strength or the serpent in its cunning. Men she looked upon
+as her natural vassals, her subjects, her lawful prey. She never once,
+in the whole course of her triumphant life, paused to think whether or
+not she inflicted pain. If any one had said to her, abruptly, "You have
+made such a person suffer," she would have laughed gaily. The ache and
+pain of honest hearts is incense to a coquette.
+
+And Lady Amelie Lisle was a coquette to the very depth of her heart! She
+could have counted her victims by the hundred. Who ever saw her and did
+not love her? She delighted in this universal worship; it became
+necessary to her as the air she breathed. Universal dominion was her end
+and aim; but once sure of a man's love or admiration, it became
+worthless to her and she longed for something fresh. Like Alexander, she
+would have conquered worlds.
+
+Not, be it understood, that Lady Amelie, as she expressed it, "ever went
+in for anything serious." She had never been in love in her life, except
+with herself, and to that one affection she was most constant. She
+accepted all, but gave none. Once or twice her flirtations had been on
+the verge, but Lady Amelie was one of those who can look very steadily
+over the brink but never fall in.
+
+The world spoke well of her. "She was certainly a great coquette,"
+people said, indulgently, but then she was so beautiful and so much
+admired. She smiles as she reads the fashionable intelligence; there is
+a paragraph describing her appearance at a ball given by one of the
+queens of society. The paper speaks of her beauty, her magnificent dress
+and costly jewels. She remembered all the homage, the sighs, the
+whispered words, the honeyed compliments, smiled and thought how sweet
+life was.
+
+At that moment her maid entered. "My lady," she said. "Colonel Mostyn
+would be so much obliged if you could see him. It is on important
+business."
+
+"Certainly. I will see him here," she replied. "What can he want with
+me?" thought my lady. "He was very empresse last night; surely he is not
+going to make love to me."
+
+And the notion of a gray-haired lover piqued her and made her smile
+again.
+
+The colonel entered with the most courtly of bows, and she received him
+graciously. He talked of the opera, of the ball, of the last new novel,
+of the latest marriage on the tapis, and all the time Lady Lisle's
+beautiful eyes were looking at him. "It was not for this you came," she
+thought. At last the colonel spoke openly.
+
+"I have come to ask of you a great favor, Lady Lisle," he said. "You
+have perhaps heard of my young kinsman, Basil Carruthers?"
+
+"The heir of Ulverston?" she said. "Certainly. He is one of the prizes
+in the matrimonial market at present, colonel."
+
+Colonel Mostyn drew a very animated and interesting portrait of his
+young charge.
+
+"He wants modernizing; his ideas are dated two hundred years back. Lady
+Lisle, there is no one who could work such wonders for him as you."
+
+"What could I do?" she asked, with a conscious smile.
+
+"You could modernize him and humanize him. Will you allow me to
+introduce him to you? And will you take him in hand a little--teach him
+something of life as it is, not as he dreams of it?"
+
+"What if he burns his wings, like many other silly moths?" she asked,
+laughingly.
+
+"It would do him all the good in the world," he replied, with
+enthusiasm. "Will you believe, Lady Lisle, that he never admired any
+one, not even Lady Evelyn Hope? He never admired any face until he saw
+yours last evening." That piqued her. "I have never seen anything like
+his indifference to all ladies. Dear Lady Lisle, you are the brilliant
+sun that alone can melt this icicle. I assure you, that his mother and
+myself are in despair."
+
+"You must not blame me," she said, "for whatever happens. You choose to
+run the risk."
+
+"Nothing can happen but what will be for his greatest good," said the
+colonel, gallantly.
+
+"You may introduce him to me," said Lady Amelie, "and I will do the best
+I can for him."
+
+"You will be at the Duchess of Hexham's ball this evening?" he asked.
+
+"Yes," she replied. "You have described your charge, Colonel Mostyn; now
+I know the carte du pays. It would be better not to mention having seen
+me."
+
+"Certainly not"--
+
+"Let me see," she interrupted. "I am to teach him what life is like in
+this nineteenth century, to try to inoculate him with modern ideas; to
+teach him how to appreciate the society of ladies; he shall learn his
+lesson well."
+
+There was something in her peerless face and her brilliant smile that
+made Colonel Mostyn pause, and wonder if after all he had done a wise
+thing.
+
+"The boy cannot be hurt," he said to himself; "he has too much sense to
+fall in love with a married lady. A violent flirtation will do him good,
+and cure him of his absurd ideas."
+
+"Your ladyship will be the benefactress of the whole family if you can
+rescue our young hero, and help us make him in some degree fit for the
+age he lives in."
+
+Lady Amelie smiled; there was not much fear in her failing in anything
+she undertook.
+
+"It is not often that young men err on the side of originality and
+singularity," she said; "I have always considered realism the sin of the
+age. I am quite curious to see your hero, Colonel Mostyn."
+
+"I believe he is quite as anxious to see you, Lady Lisle; he positively
+asked me to introduce him to you, and that is a request he has never
+made before, though I have shown him some beautiful women."
+
+"I ought to feel flattered," said Lady Amelie, and again there was
+something in her smile that made the colonel wonder whether he had done
+amiss.
+
+"We are quite in a conspiracy," he said, and Lady Lisle laughingly
+assured him that all women were fond of plots.
+
+"Your sex, my dear colonel, are so strong and so wise that it is a real
+pleasure to any poor weak woman to outwit you." And Lady Amelie shot him
+a glance from her beautiful eyes that made the colonel again half pity
+his young kinsman.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+Weaving the Spell.
+
+
+The Duchess of Hexham bore the reputation of being a most accomplished
+woman; if she excelled in anything it was certainly the giving of balls.
+She had the largest, loftiest and best ball-room in London. It was never
+overcrowded.
+
+"As many flowers as possible," she was in the habit of saying; "but we
+must limit our guests."
+
+It did not matter either who was fashionable and who was not, the
+duchess would have nothing but beauty and grace at her balls. You were
+sure at Hexham House to meet the most beautiful women in London and the
+most eligible men. It was consequently agreed on all sides that her
+grace gave the best balls during the season. This one at which Lady
+Amelie was to be present, promised unusual splendor.
+
+An archduke of one of the European courts was just then the guest of the
+queen, and he had promised to honor Hexham House with his presence.
+
+"He shall see such lovely women," said the duchess to her husband, "that
+he shall go back to his own country in despair."
+
+To Lady Amelie she had said, laughingly: "Look your very loveliest. I
+want you to make a conquest of the archduke."
+
+And that queen of coquettes thought to herself that her hands on that
+eventful evening would indeed be full. Not one word did the diplomatic
+old colonel say to Basil, but that young man was not quite himself. He
+had been wonderfully attracted by Lady Lisle's face; he read poetry,
+love of romance and everything else beautiful and piquant in it. Of all
+the women he had seen she was the only one who had interested him. He
+wondered whether the mind matched the peerless face. She must be clever,
+witty, brilliant, he thought, or she would not have kept all those men
+enchained as she did. He was very anxious to see her again.
+
+"If she is like everyone else," he said, "I shall soon be disenchanted,
+but if she speaks as she looks, she will indeed be peerless among
+women."
+
+He longed for the evening. He said nothing of her, but he talked so
+incessantly of the Duchess of Hexham, that the colonel understood
+exactly where his thoughts were, and smiled again most knowingly to
+himself.
+
+He looked at his young kinsman in his faultless evening dress, and said
+to himself that there was not in all England a more noble or handsome
+man.
+
+Lady Amelie called all the skill of the milliner to her aid; her dress
+was superb and effective--gold flowers on a white ground--a dress that
+irresistibly reminded one of sunbeams; it fell around her in statuesque
+folds that would have driven a sculptor to despair. Her beautiful neck
+and white arms were bare. She wore a diamond necklace of almost
+priceless value; her dark, shining hair was crowned with a circlet of
+the same royal stones; a diamond bracelet clasped one rounded arm. As
+she moved the light shone on her dress and gleamed on her jewels, until
+one was dazed with her splendor.
+
+Lady Amelie was very particular about her flowers. On this evening, with
+her costly dress and magnificent jewels, she would have nothing but
+white daphnes. Did she know that the sweet, subtle fragrance of a daphne
+reaches the senses long before the odor of other flowers touches them?
+As she surveyed herself in the mirror, she felt devoutly satisfied.
+
+"I shall be able to convert Basil Carruthers, Esq., to anything I like,"
+she said; "if he has resisted all the world, he will yield to me."
+
+So she drove off, resplendent, happy, animated, ready for the weaving of
+her spells.
+
+Any good Christian, seeing her pass by with that triumphant smile on her
+lovely face, might have prayed their nearest and dearest should be kept
+from harm.
+
+Lady Amelie never arrived very early at a ball. She liked to make her
+entree when most of the other guests were assembled. It was sweet to her
+to see how sorry and shy the ladies looked at her arrival, and how the
+faces of the men brightened. The first thing, of course, when she
+arrived at Hexham House, was the archduke. It was wonderful to watch the
+various phases of character that she could assume at will. With the
+archduke, she was the brilliant woman of the world, witty, sarcastic,
+adorable. He was enchanted with her; he declared that she combined all
+the charms of English and French women; he danced with her and would
+fain have lingered by her side, but that etiquette called him away.
+
+Then Lady Amelie, already the belle of the ball, looked up, for Colonel
+Mostyn was standing before her, and by his side one of the handsomest
+and noblest young men she had ever seen. He introduced Basil Carruthers
+to his fate.
+
+She looked in his face with a smile, and drawing aside a fold of her
+sumptuous dress, made room for him to sit near her.
+
+He thought her even more dazzlingly beautiful than when he had seen her
+at the opera. The perfume of the white daphnes must have touched his
+senses as those most lovely eyes smiled into his; his brain seemed to
+reel; he was intoxicated with her beauty as some men are with the fumes
+of rare wine.
+
+Colonel Mostyn lingered for a few minutes, then, well satisfied, went
+away, leaving Basil and Lady Amelie together. She had taken her seat
+under the shade of a magnificent mass of gorgeous, blooming flowers,
+with wondrous leaves and rich perfume. As she sat with her gleaming
+dress and jewels showing to perfection, from against this beautiful
+background, Basil was completely charmed. In all his life he had never
+even seen such a picture. She turned to him, when they were alone, with
+the sweetest smile on her lovely lips; her eyes seemed to rain down
+light into his.
+
+"This is a brilliant scene, Mr. Carruthers; the duchess excels in the
+arrangement of her rooms."
+
+He made some reply; he never quite knew what it was. It was enough for
+him to watch the charm of that irresistible face as she spoke. "Of
+course, everything depends on taste," she continued; "I quite expect you
+to laugh at me, but do you know what scene I should find much more
+brilliant than this?"
+
+"I cannot imagine," he replied; "but I shall not laugh."
+
+"Ah, well. I am peculiar in my tastes. In place of this brilliant
+ballroom, I should like to be seated at a tournament. I should like to
+see the knights with their banners and waving plumes, in the lists--the
+ladies in their balconies all hung with cloth of gold--the queen of
+beauty with the prize. Ah, me! in those days, ladies had knights and men
+were heroes."
+
+As he looked at her, his whole soul shone in his eyes.
+
+"And I, too," he cried. "I love those days ten thousand times better
+than these."
+
+"Do you?" asked her ladyship with admiring eyes, "how strange! It is not
+long since I was speaking to one whom I may call a young man of the
+period, and his reply was, 'Horrid bore, those kind of things were, Lady
+Lisle,' and I thought most young men were of his opinion."
+
+"I am not," said Basil, "I love those knights and heroes of old! great
+men and grand men who were content to ride forth, and to battle unto
+death for a woman's smile."
+
+She raised her radiant eyes to his.
+
+"Would you do that much for a woman's smile, Mr. Carruthers?"
+
+He paused a moment before speaking, then said: "For one such woman as
+those men loved, I would." She sighed deeply; the jewels on her white
+breast gleamed and glistened.
+
+"Ah, you think, then, that the glorious race of women heroes loved and
+died for, have disappeared?"
+
+"I thought so, until I saw you," he replied.
+
+"You are wrong," she said. "You will live to tell me that you are wrong.
+There may be no Helen such as she who lived at Troy, and no Cleopatra
+such as Egypt's dusky queen, but there are grand women living yet,
+worthy of heroes' love."
+
+"I am sure of it," he said, "now that I have seen you."
+
+But she made no reply; she did not even appear to have heard his words.
+
+"I can understand you," she said, gently. "Women have sometimes the rare
+gift of entering into the minds of reserved men. I understand you as
+though I had known you for years."
+
+His face cleared, his heart beat, his eyes brightened for her as they
+had never done for any other woman.
+
+"I can remember," she said, "when I had many similar opinions. I used to
+think these, our present days of steam and progress, quite unfit for
+heroes; I used to long for olden times again, when, by one great deed, a
+man made a great name."
+
+His eyes shone with new fire as he looked at her; it seemed to him that
+he had found his other soul at last. His mother laughed at him; Marion
+Hautville was sarcastic to him, but this beautiful woman--this
+magnificent queen at whose feet men bowed--she not only sympathized with
+him, but she had the self-same ideas.
+
+"The great thing that I complain of," said Lady Amelie, "is that there
+really seems in these days nothing to do. You, for instance, supposing
+that you were ambitious, how would you distinguish yourself?"
+
+And as she asked the question, my lady gave a sidelong look at her
+victim and was charmed to see the progress she had made.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+Deeper and Deeper Still.
+
+
+It was not possible that the queen of the ball should be allowed to sit
+apart from the dancers long. Many curious glances were bent on the pair
+who sat before the grand tier of fragrant blossoms.
+
+"Who is that with Lady Amelie?" asked one of another.
+
+"Mr. Carruthers of Ulverston," was the, reply; and great was the
+indignation felt by young ladies and their mammas.
+
+Poor Lady Masham had five marriageable daughters, and none had as yet
+received even the faintest shadow of an offer. In her own mind she had
+thought of Mr. Carruthers as especially eligible for one of them, and
+had resolved, when he did go more into society, upon a decided mode of
+attack. Her dismay, when she saw the state of things, can be better
+imagined than described.
+
+"My dear," she said to her friend and confidant, Mrs. Scrops, "look,
+only look! Lady Amelie has victimized Mr. Carruthers."
+
+"She cannot do him any harm," replied Mrs. Scrops; "she is married, I am
+thankful to say."
+
+"There will be no good done with him this season," said poor Lady
+Masham. "I would rather he had fallen in love than that she took
+possession of him."
+
+But Basil was not allowed to remain very long tete-a-tete with his
+charming queen. The Duchess of Hexham, alarmed lest her most brilliant
+star should be eclipsed, came to the rescue. Lady Amelie was soon
+surrounded, and then was carried off by the archduke.
+
+Not, however, before she had managed to turn round to Basil and say to
+him, sotto voce, "You must call and see me. We shall be friends, I can
+foretell." And he was more charmed than ever by those words. Friends
+with that enchanting woman, that proud, peerless queen, that radiant
+beauty! Be friends with her! It was more than he had dared to venture to
+hope. That he might worship her in the distance seemed to him honor
+enough.
+
+He had dreamed of such women, but he had not thought they existed; they
+belonged to the heroic ages, past now and dead. Here, in the midst of
+the days he considered so degenerate, he had found the very ideal of his
+heart.
+
+The brilliant scene before him seemed to fade away. Ah! if there was but
+some faint chance of distinguishing himself for her sake!--if she were
+but a princess in distress!--a lady for whom he could enter the lists
+and fight until he won! What was there in this prosaic century that he
+could do for her?--literally nothing but give her flowers.
+
+"Basil! Basil! my dear boy," said a voice near him. "Pray excuse me, but
+what are you doing here? Dreaming in a ballroom? This will not do."
+
+And Basil, aroused from his dream, looked up to see the face of Colonel
+Mostyn, wearing an expression of perfect horror.
+
+"Do rouse up, Basil! Do, for heaven's sake, try to be like every one
+else! Lady Masham wishes to know you; come with me."
+
+Basil followed, like a victim. Lady Masham received him cordially,
+mentioned casually that she had been to school with his mother,
+therefore felt called upon to take a special interest in himself, and
+then, very kindly, introduced him to her youngest daughter, Miss Nellie,
+whom she pathetically called the flower of her flock. Miss Nellie was a
+pretty girl, as were all the Misses Masham, or they would not have
+figured at her grace's ball. She wore the regulation chignon, golden
+brown in her case, her eyes were blue, her lips rosy and sweet, her face
+fair as the lilies and roses of summer. They had all been brought up
+after the same pattern; they all knew exactly what to say in every case
+and how to say it. As a matter of course, and not, it is to be feared,
+because he felt the least inclination, Basil asked the young lady to
+dance, and Miss Nellie, with the prettiest pink flush on her cheek,
+consented.
+
+She talked about the rooms, the opera, the archduke, until Basil almost
+groaned aloud. There was his beautiful queen, with her face full of
+poetry and her eyes of love. Yet if he could but have had both hearts,
+he would have seen that pretty, simple Nellie Masham, who talked
+innocent little commonplaces to him, was worth a thousand of such women
+as Lady Amelie Lisle. But it is not given to men to see clearly;
+anything but that. When Basil Carruthers had finished that dance he
+longed to escape, lest he should be compelled to go through another.
+Then came another moment of rapture for him, when, from the midst of a
+crowd of courtiers, Lady Amelie summoned him to take her to her
+carriage. Already they seemed like old friends. Basil drew the lace
+shawl around the white shoulders and held her flowers.
+
+"You have told me I may call," he said; "will you tell me when?"
+
+"I am visible any time after two," said Lady Amelie. Not for any amount
+of love or homage would she forego her comforts. Then it seemed to him
+that the world stopped until two the next day. He went back to the
+ballroom, but its beauty had all departed--there was no soul in the
+music, no fragrance in the flowers.
+
+"Colonel," he said, "I have had quite enough of the ball. Are you ready
+for home?"
+
+The colonel, who was quite satisfied with the result of the night's
+work, declared that he also was ready, and they went.
+
+"A very pleasant ball," remarked the diplomatist, as they drove home.
+
+"Was it?" said Basil dreamily. "I did not notice much--the only part of
+it I enjoyed was the conversation I had with Lady Lisle. Ah, colonel, if
+the ladies of the present day resembled her, there would be some hope
+for chivalry."
+
+"God forbid," thought the colonel to himself. Aloud he replied: "Yes,
+she is a very beautiful and most accomplished woman."
+
+"She is more than that; she has a touch of genius and fire and poetry. I
+have met no one like her."
+
+"I can only hope," thought Colonel Mostyn, "he will not take the disease
+too severely. I want a difference, but I do not care to have a case of
+raving love and madness on my hands."
+
+At breakfast time the next morning, Colonel Mostyn was pleased to see
+that, for the first time, Basil eagerly opened the papers and spoke
+anxiously of the evening engagements.
+
+"Better rest at home, tonight," said the colonel; "you were out last
+evening, and going out much tires you, I know. What do you say to a
+quiet game at chess?"
+
+"I cannot say positively. I shall not know what my evening engagements
+are until dinner-time."
+
+And then the colonel felt quite relieved. "He is going to call on Lady
+Amelie," he thought, "and wherever she goes this evening he will follow.
+I shall soon see him like other young men."
+
+As for Basil himself, he simply lived in one longing for two o'clock. My
+lady was perfectly ready to receive him. She had arranged a little scene
+and smiled to herself as she thought how sure it was to succeed.
+
+"He saw me all magnificence last evening; now I will play a different
+role."
+
+She wore a plain dress of some white flowing material, with a knot of
+scarlet ribbons on her fair neck; her shining hair was drawn from her
+white brow and fell in luxuriant waves; in it she wore one rose half
+shrouded in green leaves, and never in all her gorgeous magnificence had
+Lady Amelie looked one-half as fair. She was seated in her own boudoir,
+where the white daphnes shone like stars in the rosy light. A picture
+that would have ravished the heart of any man that gazed upon it, and
+Lady Amelie knew that it was perfect, even down to the graceful attitude
+and half sad, half languid expression of her face.
+
+It was not much after two when he came. Her reception of him was
+perfect--unstudied, graceful, natural; and he looking at her, thought
+her more beautiful than ever.
+
+"You were reading," he said; "have I disturbed you?"
+
+"No; Owen Meredith is a favorite poet of mine; there is something very
+unworldly and beautiful about his verses."
+
+"That is why you like them--you are so unworldly yourself."
+
+"Perhaps so, in one sense. I have just sufficient tinge of it about me
+to teach me that whatever are my thoughts and opinions, if they differ
+much from other people's, I must keep them to myself, unless, as is the
+case now, I meet a congenial soul."
+
+A view of the subject which was quite new to Basil.
+
+"I thought originality was a sign of genius," he replied, "and that
+people admired it."
+
+She smiled with an air of superiority that left him miles behind.
+
+"My observation teaches me that there is nothing worldly people
+disapprove of so highly as originality," she said. "To be more clever
+than your neighbor is a crime they never pardon."
+
+Basil, drinking in the beauty of that marvelous face, and the light of
+those lovely eyes, learned more worldly wisdom in one hour from the
+lovely lips of Lady Amelie than he had ever learned before.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+How the Plot Succeeded.
+
+
+Colonel Mostyn had no longer any reason to complain of his young
+kinsman; it was a month since he had been introduced to Lady Amelie, and
+he had lived in one long dream. He no longer found the time wearisome,
+or longed for something to do. He was in the power of a beautiful and
+heartless coquette, who took care that he should not lightly wear her
+chains.
+
+He no longer showed any indifference to his evening engagements; to be
+with her was the one wish of his life; where she went, he went--to ball,
+opera, soiree, concert, fete, to dinners at Richmond, to water-parties;
+whoever saw the beautiful Lady Amelie, saw her last victim with her.
+
+Colonel Mostyn began to think that really matters had been carried quite
+far enough; all the good he had anticipated was done; he did not wish
+evil to follow, and he was beginning to scheme for his young kinsman's
+rescue, when he was suddenly summoned to join his regiment, just ordered
+abroad, and Basil was left to his fate.
+
+He gave him some parting words of advice, but they fell on deaf ears.
+Even had Basil quite understood them, he would have asked how was it
+possible for a matter-of-fact, prosaic soldier like Colonel Mostyn, a
+man of the world, to understand such transcendental beings as Lady
+Amelie and himself.
+
+During the whole of this time, believe me, he had no thought of harm or
+wrong; he never dreamed of being in love with Lady Amelie. What was she
+to him? His queen, his lode-star, his inspiration to all that was great
+and glorious, the Lama to his Petrarch; but of anything less exalted, he
+had no notion. Basil Carruthers, with all his eccentricity, would have
+shuddered at the bare notion of dishonorable love or sin. He was an
+enthusiast, a dreamer, a poet in heart and soul, but he was not the man
+to betray a woman; he scorned the notion of such a sin; it was utterly
+beneath his lofty nature. How skilfully she managed him! How artfully
+she contrived to lead him on, to engage his whole thought, time and
+attention, yet never to lose her influence for one moment!
+
+Take a scene from her life and his. A bright, beautiful summer day,
+when, with a large party of friends, they had gone down to Richmond.
+When dinner was over, and the sweet, soft gloaming lay over the earth,
+Lady Amelie left the room, where the guests were lingering over the wine
+and grapes, and went out into the balcony that overlooked the green park
+and the smooth, clear water.
+
+Seeing that, and feeling tired of the conversation, Basil followed her.
+She was leaning over the stone balustrade, and the green foliage
+wreathed round the balcony formed a beautiful frame-work for a lovely
+picture. He went up to her, and stood in silence by her side.
+
+"How different these two worlds are!" she said. "The world in there, all
+heat, noise and frivolity; the world out here, so calm, so grand and
+still. Look at the shadow of the trees in the water! Look at the
+floating clouds of rose-colored light in the sky!"
+
+But he thought nothing in that outside world so beautiful as she
+herself.
+
+"Are you found of German stories?" he asked her, suddenly.
+
+"Yes, some of them. I like the mystery and the spirituality, the poetry
+and the romance."
+
+"I read a book of Fouque's last night that charmed me--Minstrel Love. Do
+you know it, Lady Amelie?"
+
+"No," she replied; "tell me what it is."
+
+"Only the history of a poet-knight who loved the lofty Lady Alcarda. She
+lived with her husband, a German warrior, in an old castle, and the poet
+was her knight.
+
+"Do you know, Lady Amelie," he whispered, "that book made me ambitious?"
+
+"Of what?" she asked.
+
+"Dare I tell you? The Lady Alcarda was beautiful, gifted, pure of heart
+and soul, lofty and spiritual--like you," he added, passionately, "and
+she accepted the poet's service--she made him her knight."
+
+"There are no knights in these days," she said, half sadly.
+
+"Ah! let me prove to you that you are wrong. You are like Lady Alcarda.
+Let me be your knight. I would be content to serve you in all chivalry,
+and in all honor, until death, if you would reward me with a kind word
+and a smile."
+
+His handsome young face looked so eager, so wistful, that the coquette's
+heart smote her for one half moment. Knowing what was before him, was it
+not too cruel to lead him on? But the short-lived feeling of compunction
+soon died. She bent her head and the perfume of the flowers she carried
+reached him.
+
+"Would you be my knight?" she said; "would you go through danger and
+peril to serve me?"
+
+"I would die for you," he replied, simply; "quite content, if you smiled
+on me as I died."
+
+"Do you mean it, without any romance or nonsense? Seriously, would you,
+to serve me?"
+
+"Yes: and count all loss as gain."
+
+"Then you shall be my knight, my friend. I am not a queen. I have no
+sword to lay on your shoulder, but I place my hand in yours, and I
+accept your loyal service."
+
+She laid her white hand in his, and the touch of those slender fingers
+thrilled him as nothing had ever done before.
+
+"I am your sovereign liege," she said, with a smile. "If I come to you
+in distress you are sworn, remember, to help me. If I require your
+service, it is mine."
+
+"Yes," he said; "at all times and at all hours."
+
+"I shall go through life the more happily for knowing that I have so
+true and chivalrous a defender," she replied.
+
+And they sat in the flower-wreathed balcony, watching the sun set over
+the river, and the simple, dreaming boy believed himself in Paradise.
+
+It seemed to him that the spell was broken when the other guests came
+out and joined them. As he could no longer talk to Lady Amelie, he was
+content to stand by himself and think over his own happiness. To him it
+was like a beautiful page from some old romance, that this lovely lady
+should have smiled upon him, and have laid her gracious hand upon him,
+calling him her knight. How insufferable the empty talk of the men
+around him seemed! Ah, if they knew how he was sworn to do the lady's
+service!
+
+It was more than an hour afterward when Lady Lisle was free again; then
+he enjoyed the felicity of helping her with her shawls, and of sitting
+by her side while they drove home in the moonlight.
+
+Lady Amelie was the very queen of coquettes. In the course of all her
+long experience, she had never, through all her flirtations, said one
+word too much. But no other woman living could imply so much by a
+gesture, a look or an exclamation. One morning Basil had called early,
+in the hope of escorting her to an exhibition of paintings. He found her
+alone, and while he was talking to her, a gentleman entered the room--a
+tall, portly, sensual-looking man, whom Basil disliked at first sight.
+Lady Amelie introduced him to her husband, Lord Lisle, who was very
+cordial in his greeting.
+
+"Lady Lisle has often spoken of you," he said; "but this is, strange to
+say, the first time I have ever had the pleasure of seeing you. I met
+your mother, Lady Carruthers, a year ago, and have a most pleasant
+recollection of her."
+
+Lord Lisle sat down, and Lady Amelie gave a pretty little sigh,
+expressive of her resignation to something unpleasant.
+
+And truly a conversation with Lord Lisle was about as unpleasant a
+matter as one could well experience. His language was coarse; his ideas
+coarser still. There was very little to redeem it. He mistook slang for
+wit, told stories that made his wife shudder, and misbehaved himself as
+only such a man can do.
+
+Basil looked at him in dismay. Could it be possible that this man was
+the husband of that queen of beauty? What a life for her! No wonder she
+looked sad as she sat listening to him! The young man's heart ached for
+her.
+
+"Are you engaged this evening?" asked Lord Lisle; "if not, dine with us.
+I expect Sir Harry Vere, and he is the most amusing character I know."
+
+He would have refused, but that he met the imploring glance of Lady
+Amelie's eyes.
+
+"I will come with pleasure," he replied; and her eyes thanked him.
+
+Then Lord Lisle, thinking he had been most amiable and charming, rose
+from his chair and quitted the room. In some vague, indistinct way the
+atmosphere seemed clearer after he had gone.
+
+Lady Amelie made no comment; a woman less gifted than herself might have
+done so; she merely raised her hands and eyes and gave one deep sigh.
+Will you believe me that that sigh meant more than any other woman could
+have put into words? It meant "Pity me! see how I am wasted on this boor
+of a man! think how uncongenial he is, how wretched I am."
+
+No one could sigh so effectively as Lady Amelie Lisle; thus it was with
+difficulty she refrained from smiling. Basil looked so wretchedly
+anxious and uncomfortable, she saw that he was longing to say something,
+but dare not.
+
+"I shall not be five minutes," she said, with a graceful little smile;
+"and then we can spend a long hour with the pictures."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+Caught in the Snare.
+
+
+The first part of that hour was charming. Basil never forgot it; the
+rooms were not crowded, the pictures beautiful, and Lady Amelie in one
+of her most graceful moods. They both stood before a little gem by one
+of our first English artists, called "The Coquette's Decision," a very
+pretty picture that told its own story. A young girl, standing, half
+hesitating between two gentlemen. They looked anxious, she smiling and
+triumphant. She inclined ever so little to the fair-haired youth on the
+right, her eyes and lips smiling on him, but her hand was extended to
+his dark-haired rival on the left.
+
+"I do not like that kind of picture," said Basil, "it lowers one's ideal
+of woman. I do not think there is one-half so much coquetry in the world
+as people would make you believe."
+
+"Perhaps you never knew a coquette," she said; and the look she gave him
+from underneath those long lashes was quite irresistible.
+
+"No," he replied; "indeed, a coquette could never charm me. My ideal of
+woman is some one as lofty, grand, beautiful and gifted as you."
+
+"Yet there are coquettes," she said, gravely.
+
+"I do not doubt it. I only say there would be no charm for me in the
+fairest of them all."
+
+Just then two gentlemen entered at the other end of the room, and the
+slight noise made by their entrance caused Lady Amelie to look up.
+Basil, who was watching her every movement, as he always did,
+attentively, saw her turn very pale and a sudden cloud of fear dimmed
+the radiance of her eyes.
+
+"Lady Amelie, you are ill!" he cried; "or tired."
+
+"I am tired," she said, and they sat down on one of the seats, placed
+in the middle of the room. It struck him that she was anxiously trying
+to conceal herself from observation, yet the idea seemed absurd.
+
+In the meantime, the two gentlemen advanced slowly up the room. They,
+too, paused before "The Coquette's Decision," and laughed. Then one,
+leaving his companion, came hastily to the seat where Lady Amelie was
+sitting. He held out his hand as though surprised and delighted.
+
+"Lady Amelie!" he said. "I felt sure that I was not mistaken--that it
+must be you."
+
+There was no answering delight on her face; nothing but constraint,
+embarrassment and confusion.
+
+"How do you do, Count Jules?" she said, coldly. "This is an unexpected
+surprise. I thought you had left London for some years."
+
+"L'homme propose, Dieu dispose," said the count. "I only reached England
+last night, and have hurried to London."
+
+"It is strange that I should meet you here," she said.
+
+"My friend, Monsieur Le Blanc, has a picture here, and I have been
+criticising it for him."
+
+Then Lady Amelie seemed to remember the laws of politeness, for she
+introduced the two gentlemen, who looked very unpleasantly at each
+other.
+
+Basil did not like the count, although at first sight he was certainly a
+very handsome man, essentially French, with a quick, shrewd, handsome
+face and dark hair, eyes black as night, yet bright and eloquent. It was
+those very eyes that Basil disliked; they were not clear, true nor
+honest. In fact, a sudden hatred to the French count sprang up in his
+heart, he could not tell how or why. They exchanged a few words, and
+then, under pretense of drawing Lady Amelie's attention to a picture,
+Count Jules said to her:
+
+"Can you not dismiss your young cavalier? I have come to London on
+purpose to see you--I must speak to you."
+
+"I cannot dismiss him," she said, curtly. "He is not a footman to be
+sent away at my pleasure. Tell me in few words what you want."
+
+"I want money!" he said, with a very dark frown; "and money, Amelie, I
+must have."
+
+"I can give you none--you have no conscience. How much have you had
+already?"
+
+"I have kept no account." he replied; "and really what I have had is not
+of the least consequence--it is what I have to get."
+
+"That will be nothing from me," she replied. "I gave you a thousand
+pounds three months ago, and you promised you would ask for no more."
+
+"I did not foresee the present necessity," he said. "Amelie, I must have
+money."
+
+"Count Jules," said Lady Lisle, "you are a villain, who trades upon a
+woman's fears!"
+
+"My charming lady shall call me anything she will, but I must have the
+money."
+
+"I tell you," she replied, angrily, "that I have not got it, nor is it
+any use asking my lord for it; he was angry the last time, and I shall
+ask him no more."
+
+"Then get it from some other source."
+
+"There is no other source open to me," she replied.
+
+The count's face darkened angrily.
+
+"There need not be so many words about it, Lady Lisle. I must have the
+money."
+
+"By what right do you incessantly demand money from me?" she asked.
+
+"You promised, in those happier days, to be my friend always; and as a
+friend you have lent me money often. As a friend, I ask you for it
+again."
+
+"And as a friend," she retorted, "I refuse."
+
+"Then I shall be obliged to adopt the very unpleasant alternative of
+asking it from Lord Lisle."
+
+"Lord Lisle would refuse it."
+
+"He would give it to me as the means of purchasing my silence," he said.
+"You forget, Lady Amelie, what I have to show Lord Lisle, if he does
+refuse?"
+
+"You mean my letters?" she said, indignantly. "You are coward enough to
+threaten me with showing my husband the letters I was so mistaken as to
+write to you?"
+
+"I should be deeply grieved, indeed," he said, "but I have no other
+alternative."
+
+"And I mistook you for a gentleman," she said, with calm scorn.
+
+"You were very kind to me, Lady Amelie," he said, with a polite sneer.
+
+"I do not believe you have those letters," she said.
+
+"I have, indeed. I have locked them up with the only two family
+heirlooms I possess--a watch and a ring--in an ivory casket, and I go
+nowhere without it."
+
+"You must do your worst!" said Lady Amelie.
+
+"Nay," he said, "I do not wish to do that. My worst would be to bring
+the honored name of Lady Amelie Lisle into the divorce court, and that I
+should not like to do. Do not decide hastily. I cannot remain in England
+very long. Take a week to decide in and let me know when I am to have
+the money."
+
+She turned from him with the scornful gesture of an outraged queen.
+
+"We shall see," she muttered between her white teeth. "We shall see."
+
+She spoke no other word to him, but went back to her seat. Count Jules
+bowed and quitted the room.
+
+"You do not like that man, Lady Lisle?" said Basil, as he looked at her
+fair, flushed face. Before she had time to answer, they were joined by
+some ladies of his acquaintance, and were not able to exchange another
+word on the subject. As he was leaving, Lady Lisle looked out of the
+carriage.
+
+"Mr. Carruthers!" she said. He was by her side in a moment. She was pale
+and agitated, not quite herself.
+
+"You are my sworn knight," she said, laying her hand on his.
+
+"Until death!" he replied.
+
+"You promised to help me at any risk, in any difficulty, and now I am
+going to ask your aid."
+
+"It is yours. My whole life is yours," he cried. She smiled, sadly.
+
+"There are some things more valuable than life. Perhaps what I ask from
+you will cost you dear."
+
+"I do not care in the least what it costs," he said.
+
+"You are coming to dine with us; we do not dine this evening until
+eight. Come soon after six. I have a story to tell you."
+
+"I will not fail," he replied. "Do not be anxious, Lady Lisle, you look
+distressed. Trust in me; far as human aid can go, mine is yours."
+
+His clear blue eyes lingered on her perfect face, and again, for the
+second time in her life, the queen of coquettes felt something like pity
+for the man she was luring to his doom. She leaned back in the carriage
+after he was gone, with a most triumphant smile on her lips.
+
+"What wonders a pretty face can work," she thought. "I feel quite safe,
+now that my troubles are to rest on his broad shoulders. How I should
+like to see that Jules trampled upon and crushed. My knight will save
+me."
+
+She never remembered that he was the only son of his mother--a widow.
+She cared little that he was the head of a grand old race. She thought
+still less of his talents, his honest enthusiasm, his simplicity, except
+so far as it answered her purpose.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+Ladie Amelie's Story.
+
+
+A few hours later, and Lady Lisle was seated in her boudoir, exquisitely
+attired. She, who knew so well the effect of every fold in her dress, of
+every flower she wore or carried; she, who had studied the art of
+looking beautiful more completely than any other woman, had not
+neglected her most potent charm. She wore a dinner dress of white silk,
+with crimson flowers, that suited her dark, glowing beauty to
+perfection. An elegant toilet! No jewels, but a massive golden bracelet
+on one arm, and a golden chain of exquisite workmanship round her neck.
+
+"I knew you would come," she said, looking up with a smile as Basil was
+shown into her boudoir; "I knew you would not fail me. We shall have
+time for a long conversation. Lord Lisle never reaches home until a
+quarter of an hour before dinner, and then he has to hurry. Our guests
+will not arrive until nearly eight, so we shall not be interrupted."
+
+He looked round that little fairy nook, wondering at its elegance,
+wondering at the soft, rosy light, at the fragrance of the white
+daphnes, but more than all at the queenly loveliness of the beautiful
+woman before him.
+
+She sat in the very heart of the crimson glow, her glistening silken
+dress sweeping in rich waves, and quite sure that her attitude, like
+everything else about her, was perfect. She held out her hand to him,
+with a smile that would have bewildered any man older and wiser than he.
+
+"Sit down here," she said, pointing to a velvet fauteuil; "I am going to
+make you my judge. Ah, Basil, for this one night I may call you Basil;
+perhaps after you have heard what I have to say, you will never be my
+knight again; it may change you."
+
+"I shall belong to you, and ask no greater happiness than to serve you
+until I die," he replied,
+
+A fan lay on the table by her side, with jeweled handle, and made of
+white, soft feathers. She opened it and quietly stirred the warm,
+perfumed air.
+
+"I could only tell my trouble to you," she began, in her soft, caressing
+voice. "You will understand me, because you know what it is to have
+wishes, hopes and aspirations that are never realized. You know what it
+is to be unworldly and unlike others.
+
+"I was but a girl when I was married, Basil--an innocent, unsuspecting
+girl, just seventeen. I might plead, in excuse of what followed, that I
+was married without my own inclination being consulted--unwillingly
+sacrificed to money that never has done me any good, and never will. I
+might plead my youth, my unhappiness, the utter want of congeniality
+with the man I married; but I will not. You shall judge me without
+excuses. I must, however, tell you that at first, for the first two
+years of my married life, I was in despair. There seemed to me no hope,
+no respite--nothing but despair. Now I have grown accustomed to my
+misery, and can wear it with a smile; then it was otherwise. At that
+time I was first introduced to Count Jules Ste. Croix. I hate myself,"
+she continued, passionately, "when I remember how that man duped me. I
+did not think him handsome, although other ladies raved of his beaux
+yeux and his classical face.
+
+"But I liked him, Basil, because he had the art of expressing silent
+sympathy for me. He said nothing--if he had done so, my pride would have
+taken fire and I should have been saved--but all that other men say in
+passionate words, he conveyed to me in passionate looks. He was very
+kind to me; he used to visit us a great deal, and on several occasions
+he stood between me and Lord Lisle's fierce anger.
+
+"He knew all my distress, my troubles, my misery, as well as I know them
+myself. Let me tell you briefly, Basil, that at this unhappy time I
+wrote to him three letters--only three. I was so miserable, so wretched,
+that, unless I had opened my heart to some one, I must have died. Now
+listen, Basil, and do not wonder if I have ceased to believe in men. He
+answered them, and then, after a time, presumed upon my having written
+to him. Oh, Basil, if I could but spare myself the shame of telling you!
+He made a compact of friendship with me that nothing was ever to break.
+I was but a frightened child, and I made it. He asked me to lend him
+money. Oh, Basil, I was but a frightened, terrified girl, and I lent it!
+Then he tried to make love to me--he flattered me; he followed me like
+my shadow. But there I was firm; he could not frighten me into anything
+I thought wrong."
+
+"Why, the man is a villain!" cried Basil; "an unprincipled, cowardly
+villain!"
+
+"Wait," she said, laying her hand on his arm. "Wait; you have not heard
+all. He uses the three letters as a means of extorting money from me.
+Now he threatens that if I do not lend it to him, he will show them to
+my husband."
+
+Basil sprang from his seat, with a hot flush on his handsome young face.
+
+"I will shoot him!" he said. "Such a man is not fit to breathe the air
+of heaven."
+
+"Hush!" she said again. "You cannot help me unless you are calm. My
+husband does not love me, Basil. The least whisper of this, and,
+innocent as I am, I should be separated from him and disgraced. It is
+from this I want you to save me. If I were married to a noble, generous
+man, I should go to him at once, and tell him the truth. If Lord Lisle
+knew it, he would use it as a pretext for separating himself from me.
+Basil, you are my knight--you must save me; you must get those letters."
+
+"I will," he replied, "at any cost."
+
+"I tremble to think how much money, I, in my cowardly fear, have lent
+him. He will want more and more, until he has drained a fortune, and I
+shall be no safer in the end. I will lend him no more money, Basil; but
+you, my only friend, shall get the letters."
+
+"I will. How shall I do it! Oh, Lady Lisle, let me fight him--let me
+punish him as he deserves!"
+
+"No," she said; "he is too cunning. If you were to offer to fight with
+him, he would know it was for my sake, and he would so place the letters
+as to fall into my husband's hands if anything happened to him."
+
+But the hot flush did not fade from Basil's face.
+
+"I must thrash him," he cried.
+
+"No; for my sake, and because you would do me true service, you must
+not," she said.
+
+"I will give him all my fortune for the letters," he said.
+
+"That would not do--he would take your money first, then, holding the
+letters, would still want more. I will tell you the only plan by which
+you can help me. Go boldly into the room and bring the letters away."
+
+"But that looks so much like stealing them," he said. "Let me fight him
+and take them because I win."
+
+"No," she said, sadly. "If you will not help me, as I wish, I must
+forego all aid, and suffer on."
+
+"You have but to command," he cried, "and I will obey."
+
+"This is the count's address," she said. "Go into his rooms; you will
+find there an ivory casket; he keeps the letters there; he told me so."
+
+"I will do it," he said, quietly.
+
+A beautiful light came into her eyes.
+
+"I knew you would save me, Basil," she said, tenderly. "When will you do
+it?"
+
+"I will make my first essay tonight. I shall not rest again until it is
+done."
+
+"Go to his rooms," she said; "ask for him; if they tell you he is not
+in, say you will wait for him; then, while you are in the room, open the
+casket, take out the letters, destroy them at once, and send word to me
+when it is done. Do not stop to think whether I am right, whether it is
+the better plan, but do it at once, because I have said so."
+
+"I will do it," he replied. Then she saw a shadow fall over his face.
+"There is nothing really in them, I suppose, Lady Lisle?"
+
+"Nothing," she said, "but the cry of a woman's breaking heart! Enough to
+ruin me, should my husband ever come to know it."
+
+"That he never shall; they shall be destroyed. If I die for it, they
+shall be destroyed."
+
+"Ah, me," she said; "had ever liege lady so true a knight? Basil, how
+shall I thank you?"
+
+"The pleasure of serving you will be thanks enough," he replied.
+
+"Ah, generous knight, noble knight, who shall say true chivalry is
+dead?" And she praised him, she flattered him, she thanked him until the
+slight doubt that had occurred to him died away and he was ashamed of
+it.
+
+He thought of nothing but obeying her. It was sadly against his high
+English spirit to steal into a man's room and take from it; he would
+have preferred fighting until one or the other lay dead. But she had
+said nay, and it could not be. That very evening he called and was told
+the count was not in; the day following he repeated the call, and the
+servant, as he had said at the trial, was suspicious, not recognizing
+him as one of his master's friends.
+
+He called another evening, and, owing to the fact of there being a new
+servant, he was admitted into the count's room. It was empty, although
+the gas was burning. He saw the little ivory casket, and with one stroke
+of his strong, young hand, opened it.
+
+There lay the letters, underneath a watch and ring. He obeyed her; he
+did not lose one instant. He emptied the casket, carried the letters to
+the lighted gas, and burned them! Just as he had raised the watch and
+ring in his hand to replace them, the door opened and the count, with
+his servant, entered the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+The Trap Closed.
+
+
+The count did not utter one word. He saw at one glance what had been
+done. He recognized the young gentleman whom he had sneered at as Lady
+Amelie's victim. He understood at once what had been done.
+
+"She had asked him to destroy the letters, and he has done it," he said
+to himself. In one moment he had formed his scheme of revenge. He would
+give the young man in charge for stealing his watch and ring. If he
+cleared himself at all, he must tell the truth. He must tell that he had
+not come there to steal a watch, but to destroy Lady Lisle's letters.
+
+"If he confesses that," said the quick-witted count to himself, "she
+will be doubly disgraced; if he declines to confess, I am at least
+revenged upon him." So, until the entrance of the policeman, the two men
+stood and glared at each other.
+
+"You can save yourself," said the count, "if you will confess what you
+came for, and if you will write that confession down."
+
+Basil smiled contemptuously. "Of what do you charge me?" he said.
+
+"I shall charge you with stealing my watch and ring," was the reply.
+
+"Knowing I am innocent?"
+
+"The alternative lies before you. Confess, as I have said, and Lady
+Amelie suffers; deny, and you go to prison for stealing."
+
+It seemed to him far easier. "I will go to prison," he thought, "I can
+give a false name; no one will know me. There will be no fuss, no stir,
+nothing known, and she, my queen, will be saved."
+
+Of course there was no common sense in such a proceeding, nothing but
+enthusiasm and romance. He certainly had not calculated upon the fact
+being known. He had really believed the false name would shield him. He
+found means through a heavy bribe to send one word to Lady Amelie; it
+was merely the word, "Destroyed.--B.C." But it gave the queen of
+coquettes a sense of security she had not enjoyed for long. While Basil
+still lay in prison, Count Jules sought her.
+
+"You have baffled me, my lady," he said.
+
+"Yes," was the calm reply, "I have checkmated you, count. You will
+extort no more money from me, nor will you threaten me again."
+
+"Well," said the count, "I confess myself beaten, and I am not a good
+man, either, my Lady Amelie, but sooner than have blighted that young
+man's life, as you have done, I would have suffered anything."
+
+"My dear count," said Lady Amelie, philosophically, "some men seem, by
+fate and by nature, destined to be used as a cat's-paw."
+
+Count Jules was baffled; his only hold upon the rich and beautiful Lady
+Amelie was broken. What those letters contained was known only to the
+lady and himself. If simply the written expressions of her own
+unhappiness, he placed more value on them than they were worth. The
+chances are that they held more than that.
+
+He was entirely defeated--they had been his last resources for long. He
+had never failed, by means of them, to extort money from Lady Lisle at
+pleasure. It was useless to threaten any more. She had but to dare him
+to bring forth his proofs, and he had not one word to say.
+
+His only consolation was, that in revenge, he had completely blighted
+the young hero's life, for hero he was, although his heroism was of a
+mistaken kind.
+
+And Lady Amelie--did she feel any regret for the young life tarnished?
+She missed a very pleasant companion, an enthusiastic adorer, but as
+fortune would have it, there came to England a young Roman prince, who
+was both artist and poet, handsome as a Greek god, and wealthy beyond
+compare. His appearance created a perfect furore in fashionable society,
+and he, as a matter of course, fell in love with Lady Amelie, so that
+she soon forgot the young knight who languished in prison. When the
+season was over, she persuaded her husband to go to Rome, and never left
+even a line or a message for the mistaken young man who had done so much
+for her.
+
+She only did what suited her; she was the queen of coquettes, and she
+made him useful to her; nothing else mattered.
+
+The lonely months wore on very slowly for Basil. At first the notion of
+heroism and the conviction that he was performing a most noble and
+chivalrous deed sustained him; but there was a fund of common sense in
+his character, and this common sense suggested to him that instead of
+being a hero, he had been the dupe of a wily coquette. Not at first did
+this idea strike him; not until long, dreary weeks had passed, and she
+had never sent him even one message of thanks or sympathy. He was very
+angry with the idea at first, thinking it quite a false one, but
+gradually he awakened to the conviction that it was true.
+
+Then his fortitude forsook him, and it was some consolation to hear from
+Mr. Forster that what the kind-hearted lawyer called his
+misrepresentations had been effectual. People had almost forgotten that
+little paragraph that had one morning taken London by storm.
+
+"I have denied it so constantly and emphatically," he said, "that my
+words have been believed. As soon as you get out of here, make haste
+abroad, then all may be well."
+
+Even he could not help seeing how entirely the light and brightness had
+faded from the young face.
+
+"I have never said anything to you," said Mr. Forster, one morning, "but
+I have a certain conviction, Mr, Carruthers, that there is some woman in
+this; you are here for a woman's sake and to screen her from blame; if
+so, it is useless asking you to tell the truth, I know, but make the
+best of it; get out of this as soon as you can."
+
+He did so. When the six months were over, "John Smith" was discharged
+and did not linger many hours in London; he went at once to Paris, and
+there made out where Lady Amelie was.
+
+"In Rome," replied the gentleman of whom he asked the question. "Her
+last caprice was a young Roman prince, and they are settled there for
+the winter." To Rome he resolved to go. He would see for himself whether
+she was all that his dreaming fancy had painted her, or whether she was
+what men said--a heartless coquette.
+
+He went to Rome, and found her, as usual, queen of all that was most
+brilliant and gay.
+
+It was at a soiree given by the Duchessa Sforza. He saw her again,
+beautiful, radiant and magnificent. By her side stood a young man, who
+was handsome as one of the grand old statutes that ornamented the
+galleries of Rome. He watched her, thinking bitterly of the time that
+had passed since be looked his last on that radiant face, and all the
+bitter shame that had been his portion since then.
+
+He crossed the room and went over to her. Whatever dismay she may have
+felt, she showed none. She looked up with a bright, cold smile, as
+though they had parted but yesterday.
+
+"Mr. Carruthers!" she said. "I hope you are well. I really believe that
+half of England is coming to Rome."
+
+"Can you wonder," said the prince, "when England's fairest queen is
+here?"
+
+Lady Amelie introduced the two gentlemen, and after a time the prince
+went away. Then she turned her lovely face to the young man she had
+duped so cleverly.
+
+"How do you like Rome?" she asked,
+
+"I cannot talk commonplace to you, Lady Lisle," he said; "I have come
+from England purposely to see you,"
+
+She looked slightly impatient.
+
+"Ah," she replied. "Of course I am very much obliged to you; but you
+must have been terribly imprudent. Could you not have managed without
+being discovered in that suspicious attitude? I was so grievously
+distressed. You are too quixotic--you seek needless dangers."
+
+That was the extent of her gratitude to the man who had saved her
+reputation, character, and fair fame.
+
+"I did not compromise you," he said. "I preferred imprisonment to that."
+
+"Yes; but it was quixotic; there was no need for anything of the kind."
+
+"I am very sorry to have erred from excess of zeal," he replied,
+sarcastically. "It is a comfort to me to think that I shall not so
+offend again."
+
+"I hope," she said, more anxiously, "that it will not injure you--that
+no one will know about it. It was really too shocking. Prison for a
+young man of your position! It was absurd."
+
+"I thought so myself, before I came out; it was absurd; but you will be
+comforted to know, Lady Amelie, that no one seems to have known of it
+but my mother, Lady Carruthers, and my lawyer, Mr. Forster. So far as
+the world is concerned, I am safe."
+
+The prince returned, looking slightly jealous, and then Basil amused
+himself, after a bitter fashion. He watched Lady Amelie playing off all
+her airs, graces, and fascinations on the young prince, as she had
+played them upon him. He was cured. It was a bitter lesson, but it
+lasted him. He began to understand the difference between romance and
+reality--between dreaming and doing. It had been a hard, bitter, almost
+shameful, lesson, but he was thankful in after years that he had learned
+it.
+
+He found, after a time, that the world was wiser than he thought.
+
+"There is some story about Mr. Carruthers," people would say, but no one
+ever knew exactly what it was. He remained in Rome for a whole week.
+Before it was over he was quite cured of his liking for the queen of
+coquettes.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+The Denouement.
+
+
+Then Basil Carruthers set himself busily to work to discover how he
+might best undo the effects of his folly. The duties he had thought so
+lightly of rose before him now.
+
+"I will go down to Ulverston," he said to himself, "and with God's help
+I will be a wiser and a better man."
+
+He saw what his mistaken notions of chivalry had done for him--how
+completely they had misled him--how near they had brought him to ruin
+and disgrace. The meeting between mother and son was not the most
+pleasant in the world. Lady Carruthers, stately, sensitive, and proud,
+could not forgive the dark disgrace under which her son had lain. He saw
+how deeply she felt it.
+
+"Mother," he said, "you must judge me leniently. I own myself mistaken.
+I think, sometimes, I must have been mad, I cannot tell you precisely
+what took me to prison. Will you believe me that it was for a woman's
+sake?"
+
+"I knew it!" she interrupted.
+
+"It was to screen a woman's folly," he continued. "And, indeed, wrong as
+I was, I believed myself to be doing a most chivalrous deed."
+
+"It is a great pity, Basil," said Lady Carruthers.
+
+"Yes," he said, quietly; "but I was a woman's dupe, and I have suffered
+enough. It was one false step, but I shall spend my life in trying to
+redeem it."
+
+He kept his word. In four years' time the name of Basil Carruthers rang
+through the land with a pleasant sound; he had, indeed, found something
+to do.
+
+He was returned for the borough of Rutsford, and his fame as an able and
+eloquent orator spread over the country.
+
+Then he studied to become a model landlord; he built large, airy
+cottages and schools; he paid the attention that every landlord ought to
+pay that the land be well drained, well cultivated. He was a friend to
+all his tenants, a benefactor to his dependants. In the course of time
+people forgot to whisper there had been some story about Mr. Carruthers;
+they only mentioned him in terms of praise. The very quality that his
+mother once thought would be against him now proved to be in his favor.
+If he was more romantic, more enthusiastic than other young men, he
+employed the superabundance of his gifts to excellent purpose.
+
+After some years there was a grand wedding at Ulverston. Basil
+Carruthers won Marion Hautville for his wife. Before they were married
+he took her one afternoon for a long ramble in the green summer woods
+and told her this story. Marion was shocked at first; it seemed to her
+impossible that a man could be so foolish as to mistake a deed like that
+for chivalry.
+
+"And what has become of your lovely Lady Amelie now?" she asked.
+
+"She is still the queen of coquettes," replied Basil; "but, Marion,
+although it was a terrible mistake, and I suffered so bitterly for it, I
+cannot be altogether sorry that it happened. I should have been a
+useless dreamer until the day of my death if this had not taken place.
+It was a rude, rough, but sure awakening."
+
+"I shall never call you my knight," said Marion. "Why, Basil, dear, a
+schoolboy would not have been taken in by such nonsense."
+
+"But, Marion, I was not so wise as a schoolboy," he replied.
+
+"She only used you for her own purposes. She simply made a cat's-paw of
+you, Basil."
+
+"I can see it now, darling, I did not then. But you will forgive me,
+Marion?"
+
+"Yes; because, after all, though you were so greatly mistaken, still the
+faults that led to your mistake were almost virtues."
+
+Lady Carruthers was rendered very happy by her son's marriage. When Mrs.
+Carruthers went to London, she proved to be Lady Amelie's greatest
+rival. She was quite as beautiful, as witty, as clever, but in place of
+coquetry, she was gifted with honest simplicity, that men pronounced
+charming, while Lady Amelie, to her great chagrin, began to find her
+attractions on the wane. Men grew tired of her vanity and her cruelty.
+Women disliked her for her selfish disregard of everything but her own
+triumph.
+
+Basil Carruthers bows his head in shame and contrition when he remembers
+this episode in his career. Then Marion, his wife, kisses him with a
+smile, and tells him he is not much the worse for having been once upon
+a time a coquette's victim.
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
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+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Coquette's Victim, by Charlotte M. Braeme
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12886 ***
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+<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12886 ***</div>
+
+<h4>EVERYDAY LIFE LIBRARY No.1</h4>
+
+<h4>Published by EVERYDAY LIFE, Chicago</h4>
+
+<h1>THE COQUETTE'S VICTIM</h1>
+
+<h2>BY CHARLOTTE M. BRAEME</h2>
+
+<br />
+
+<center>
+<img src='images/coquette.jpg' width='436' height='515' alt='frontispiece' title=''>
+</center>
+
+<br />
+
+<h4><a href='#CHAPTER_I'><b>CHAPTER I.&mdash;The Trial.</b></a><br />
+<a href='#CHAPTER_II'><b>CHAPTER II.&mdash;The Sentence.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#CHAPTER_III'><b>CHAPTER III.&mdash;The Papers Again.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#CHAPTER_IV'><b>CHAPTER IV.&mdash;Ulverston Priory.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#CHAPTER_V'><b>CHAPTER V.&mdash;Lady Carruthers.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#CHAPTER_VI'><b>CHAPTER VI.&mdash;Youth Full of Beauty and Promise.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#CHAPTER_VII'><b>CHAPTER VII.&mdash;A Modern Bayard.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#CHAPTER_VIII'><b>CHAPTER VIII.&mdash;Lady Amelie at Home.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#CHAPTER_IX'><b>CHAPTER IX.&mdash;Weaving the Spell.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#CHAPTER_X'><b>CHAPTER X.&mdash;Deeper and Deeper Still.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#CHAPTER_XI'><b>CHAPTER XI.&mdash;How the Plot Succeeded.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#CHAPTER_XII'><b>CHAPTER XII.&mdash;Caught in the Snare.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#CHAPTER_XIII'><b>CHAPTER XIII.&mdash;Ladie Amelie's Story.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#CHAPTER_XIV'><b>CHAPTER XIV.&mdash;The Trap Closed.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#CHAPTER_XV'><b>CHAPTER XV.&mdash;The Denouement.</b></a></h4>
+
+<br />
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<br />
+<a name='CHAPTER_I'></a><h3>CHAPTER I.</h3>
+
+<h4>The Trial.</h4>
+<br />
+
+<p>Mr. Kent was a very able magistrate. He had sat on the bench for many
+years and was considered a man of great legal attainments and skill. He
+very seldom erred in his judgment, and being gifted with a natural
+shrewdness, he saw the difference at once between a guilty and an
+innocent man.</p>
+
+<p>He rarely erred; long practice had made him an adept in reading faces.</p>
+
+<p>But on this morning, the fourteenth of May, he was puzzled. Many cases
+had been brought before him. Drunken men dismissed with a fine and a
+reprimand, thieves sentenced to weeks or months of imprisonment, wives
+with pale faces and bruised arms had given reluctant evidence against
+husbands who had promised to love and cherish them until death.</p>
+
+<p>It was a bright May morning, and the sun did his best to pour through
+the dusky windows of the police court; a faint beam fell on the stolid
+faces of the policemen and ushers of the court, the witnesses and the
+lookers-on; a faint beam that yet, perhaps, brought many messages of
+bright promise to those present.</p>
+
+<p>A little boy had been sent on an errand with sixpence and had stolen the
+money; with many sobs and tears he confessed that he had spent it in
+cakes. Mr. Kent looked at the tear-stained face; the untidy brown head
+scarcely reached to the table, and the good magistrate thought, with
+something like pain at his heart, of a fair-haired boy at home. So he
+spoke kindly to the poor, trembling prisoner, and while he strongly
+reprimanded, still encouraged him to better ways. The boy was removed,
+and then Mr. Kent was puzzled by the prisoner who took his place.</p>
+
+<p>A tall, handsome young man, apparently not more than twenty, with a
+clear-cut aristocratic face, and luminous dark gray eyes. A face that no
+one could look into without admiration&mdash;that irresistibly attracted man,
+woman and child. He was a gentleman&mdash;there could be no mistake about it.
+That clear-cut Norman face had descended to him from a long line of
+ancestors; the well-built, manly figure, with its peculiar easy grace
+and dignity told of ancient lineage and noble birth.</p>
+
+<p>His hands were white, slender and strong, with almond-shaped
+nails&mdash;hands that had never been soiled with labor, and surely never
+stained with crime.</p>
+
+<p>He carried his handsome head high; it was proudly set on a firm,
+graceful neck, and covered with clusters of dark hair. He would have
+looked in his place near the throne of a queen, or, on the back of a war
+horse, leading a forlorn hope; but no one could understand his being
+prisoner in a dock. Mr. Kent looked at him, wondering with what he was
+charged. Surely, with that noble face and gentlemanly bearing, he had
+never been guilty of a common assault. Magistrate as he was, Mr. Kent
+listened to the recital of the charge, with some curiosity.</p>
+
+<p>Jules St. Croix, Count of the French Empire, charged the prisoner at the
+bar with having broken into his rooms for the purpose of robbery. He had
+been discovered in the count's drawing-room, where he had forced open an
+ivory casket and stolen the contents, which were an ancient and valuable
+gold watch and a gold ring, also of considerable value. At the moment
+that the count, followed by his servant, entered the room, the prisoner
+had these articles in his hand. He dropped them immediately, but the
+count, hastily calling for the police, gave him in charge.</p>
+
+<p>There was a smell of burned paper in the room and it was nearly eleven
+at night.</p>
+
+<p>The magistrate asked if the prisoner had made any resistance. Policeman
+C. No. 14, answered, &quot;No, he gave in at once; and came straight away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Kent asked again: &quot;Was there anything in the casket beside the
+jewelry?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It seemed to be a very insignificant question, but the prisoner and the
+count looked steadfastly at each other and both answered: &quot;No.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There were two witnesses. Robert Bolton, the count's servant, and C. No.
+14, the policeman. The evidence of the servant was taken first. He said
+that the prisoner had called several times to see his master, always
+coming when the count was from home; that he had, before, made one or
+two efforts to get into the count's room, but that he, the servant, had
+always refused him permission.</p>
+
+<p>On this evening the count went out early, and Robert Bolton having some
+errands to do, followed his master. About ten o'clock the prisoner
+called at the house, No. 24 Cambridge Terrace, and asked to speak to
+Count St. Croix. The landlady of the house told him the count was from
+home; then the prisoner said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know. I will go to his room and wait there for him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The landlady, believing him to be a perfect gentleman, allowed him to
+go up to the count's room. Robert Bolton returned home just as his
+master was at the door; when the landlady told him a gentleman was
+waiting there, it flashed instantly into his mind there was something
+wrong. He hastily told his suspicions to the count and they ran upstairs
+together. Opening the door quickly, they found the prisoner with the
+casket in one hand and the watch in the other. There was an odor of
+burnt paper in the room.</p>
+
+<p>The count immediately opened the window and called for the police. C.
+No. 14 was just passing, and in marvelously quick time he ran upstairs.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This man has gotten into my room on false pretences,&quot; said the count.
+&quot;He is a stranger to me. I give him in charge for breaking open my
+casket and stealing a watch and ring from it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What did the prisoner say.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He pointed to the watch and ring, and said: 'There they are;' then he
+looked at the count with a smile.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Did he seem frightened?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not the least in the world,&quot; was the answer; &quot;just the contrary.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What happened next?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The prisoner told him he must consider himself a prisoner on the charge
+of stealing a watch. He laughed aloud and walked away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The landlady of the house, the policeman and the count all gave the same
+evidence. It seemed very clear against him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What have you to say?&quot; asked, the magistrate of the prisoner.</p>
+
+<p>He raised his luminous gray eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not one word,&quot; he replied, in a clear, refined voice.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What is your name? I see you have refused to give any.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For the first time the prisoner's face flushed crimson, and the count
+smiled malignantly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My name is&mdash;John Smith,&quot; he replied, and again the count smiled.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your address?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He gave some number and street which every one knew to be false.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your occupation?&quot; asked the magistrate again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have none&mdash;that is, no settled occupation,&quot; he replied.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Have you no lawyer to defend you?&quot; asked Mr. Kent.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I require none,&quot; said the prisoner; &quot;I have no defense. All that Count
+Jules St. Croix says is true; he found me in his room with the open
+casket in my hand.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You had gone there for the purpose of robbery?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have not a word to answer.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You can surely give some account of your presence there?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The prisoner smiled again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I refuse to do so,&quot; he replied, with great firmness, yet courtesy of
+manner.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then I must commit you for trial,&quot; said the magistrate. &quot;Have you no
+witnesses to bring forward in your own defense now, as to character&mdash;no
+referees?&quot; he continued.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;None,&quot; was the quiet reply.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am sorry,&quot; said Mr. Kent; &quot;to see one who is so evidently a
+gentleman and a man of education in such a position.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But there was no shame in the handsome face; none in the proud eyes. He
+raised his head with haughty grace and made no reply.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can take bail,&quot; said Mr. Kent, but the prisoner said, &quot;I have none to
+offer.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then was the good magistrate puzzled. He had no resource but to commit
+the young man to take his trial at the Sessions. Yet looking at the
+clear, aristocratic face, and the firm, proud lips, he could have sworn
+that the prisoner was perfectly innocent of the theft.</p>
+
+<p>He read pride, honesty, loyalty and chivalry in the face, yet there was
+nothing left for him to do but to commit him.</p>
+
+<p>He looked very grave as he did so, and then John Smith was taken away by
+the policeman. As he left the dock he turned to his accuser, the Count
+St. Croix, who stood there with a dark frown on his face; he looked at
+him for one moment, then waved his hand, as one who had won a great
+victory.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have conquered,&quot; he said, and the count's sallow face grew pale with
+rage,</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Curse you,&quot; he said, between his teeth, &quot;I should like to stand with my
+foot on your neck.&quot;</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<br />
+
+<a name='CHAPTER_II'></a><h3>CHAPTER II.</h3>
+
+<h4>The Sentence.</h4>
+<br />
+
+<p>John Smith&mdash;for the prisoner was known by no other name&mdash;lay in prison
+until the time for his trial. He had not long to wait, but he made no
+complaint. He seemed perfectly at his ease&mdash;much more so than was Mr.
+Kent. In vain the good magistrate said to himself that it was no
+business of his; that he had nothing whatever to do with the case, he
+had simply performed his duty&mdash;done what was required of him. Yet he
+could not feel satisfied; he was sure there was a mystery, and he longed
+to fathom it.</p>
+
+<p>He resolved to go and see the young man, and ask him more questions, to
+try to ascertain who he really was. He went to his cell and the prisoner
+looked at him in utter surprise.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have come purposely,&quot; said Mr. Kent, &quot;to see if I cannot induce you
+to tell the truth over this affair. I will call you John Smith, if you
+like, yet I am sure you are a gentleman; you will not deny that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I neither admit nor deny anything,&quot; was the smiling reply; &quot;I have made
+up my mind that there will be a certain punishment, and I shall go
+through it like a brave man.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Have you well considered what degradation that punishment will bring
+upon you as long as you live?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>His face flushed hotly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Since you ask me,&quot; he answered, &quot;I tell you frankly, no; I had not
+thought of that part of the business at all&mdash;it never even occurred to
+me; my thoughts were all otherwise engrossed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You should take it into consideration,&quot; said the magistrate. &quot;I know
+nothing of what your position in society may be, but remember, you
+voluntarily cut yourself off from all association with even respectable
+people; a man who has been in prison cannot expect the countenance or
+fellowship of his fellow-men.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I suppose you are right,&quot; replied the young man; &quot;although, believe me,
+never a thought of this occurred to me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, would it not be better to tell the truth? Have you done it for a
+wager? is it the trick of a foolish young man? or were you really
+tempted to steal the watch?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Something like a smile curved his handsome lips.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I cannot tell you,&quot; he replied. &quot;I am deeply grateful for your kind
+interest&mdash;indeed, I shall never forget it; but I cannot, in return, tell
+you one word.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then I can do nothing to help you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; he answered slowly; &quot;you could not help sending me for trial. Will
+you tell me what the probable result will be, supposing, as a matter of
+course, that I am found guilty?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Most probably, six months imprisonment, without hard labor, if it be a
+first offence.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is the first of its kind,&quot; was the smiling reply.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will not let me help you, then, in any way?&quot; said Mr. Kent.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is nothing you can do for me,&quot; said the young man, gratefully.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you take my advice,&quot; continued the magistrate, &quot;you will send for
+some clever lawyer; tell him the truth, whatever it may be, and while
+preserving your incognito, he may be able to do something for you. I
+should certainly do so in your place.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think not,&quot; he replied; &quot;the less stir made about it the better.
+Surely in the crowd of a criminal court and in the prison dress, I shall
+escape recognition?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;An admission,&quot; thought the magistrate, &quot;that he has concealed his
+identity.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I cannot tell; I think it doubtful.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, whatever comes, I shall always he grateful to you, Mr. Kent, for
+your interest in me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am sorry you will not trust me,&quot; said the magistrate, rising to leave
+the cell.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am still more sorry that I cannot,&quot; was the reply, and then the
+prisoner was left alone.</p>
+
+<p>He did not look much like a thief; there was a light on his face such as
+one sees in the pictures of the martyrs, a clear fire in the gray eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My ancestors have smiled with their heads on a block,&quot; he said.
+&quot;Surely, with such a motive, I may bear six months of prison.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The day of his trial came. The report of it in the papers read as
+follows:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;John Smith, aged twenty, occupation unknown, was charged by Count Jules
+St. Croix with stealing from his room an ivory casket, containing a
+watch and an antique ring of great value. The prisoner, who refused to
+give any account of himself, pleaded guilty; he made no defence, and had
+retained no counsel. The judge made a few remarks to the effect that it
+was very hard to see a young man, evidently possessed of some education
+and refinement, in such a position, then sentenced him to six months'
+imprisonment without hard labor. Prisoner made no remark, and was then
+removed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The papers did not tell of a little incident that occurred, simply
+because the reporters did not know it. During the hearing of the case,
+which did not last long, one of the leading barristers, Mr. Macfarlane,
+sat with his eyes riveted on the prisoner's face, his own growing very
+pale and anxious; then he wrote a little note, which he dispatched by a
+messenger, who soon returned, accompanied by Mr. Forster, one of the
+most celebrated lawyers in Lincoln's Inn.</p>
+
+<p>He spoke a few words to Mr. Macfarlane.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nonsense!&quot; he said; &quot;the idea is incredible, impossible, even. What can
+have made you think of such a thing?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Stand here in my place; you cannot see over all those heads. Now look
+well at him. Am I right or wrong?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A strange gray look came over Mr. Forster's face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I&mdash;I believe you are right,&quot; he said. &quot;My God! what can this mean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Look now! his face is turned this way! Look!&quot; cried Mr. Macfarlane,
+eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is he!&quot; cried the lawyer, and he stood like one turned to stone,
+then recovering himself, he said quickly:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why is he here? What is he charged with?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Macfarlane whispered into the lawyer's ear:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;With stealing a watch and ring from the room of Count Jules St. Croix.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Absurd!&quot; was the reply, in accents of the deepest contempt; &quot;what
+idiotic nonsense! He steal a watch! I could believe myself mad or
+dreaming.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then,&quot; said Mr. Macfarlane. &quot;he has pleaded guilty; he has made no
+defence, engaged no counsel.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The boy is mad! completely mad!&quot; cried the lawyer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hush!&quot; said the barrister; &quot;the judge is speaking.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Forster stood in a most impatient mood, while the grave, clear voice
+of the judge sentenced the prisoner. Then he turned to the barrister
+abruptly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I tell you,&quot; he cried, &quot;the boy is mad! Steal a watch! Why, he could
+buy one-half the watches in London if he liked. I must see him. Come
+this way.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; said Mr. Macfarlane, &quot;he evidently does not wish to be known. I
+shall not go near him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If he got into trouble, why in the world did he not send for me or for
+some one else?&quot; said the lawyer to himself. &quot;It must be a young man's
+frolic, a wager, a bet. He has spirit enough for anything. He never
+could have been such a mad fool as to wreck his life for a paltry
+watch.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Forster went to the room, where with other prisoners, John Smith
+stood, awaiting his removal in the prison van. He went up to him and
+touched him on the shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is it really you?&quot; he cried, and the luminous gray eyes smiled into
+his.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah! Forster, I am sorry to see you. What has brought you here?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is you,&quot; said the lawyer. &quot;I was in hopes that my senses deceived
+me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I hope you will keep the fact of having seen me here a profound
+secret.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But in the name of heaven, what does it mean?&quot; cried Mr. Forster. &quot;You
+know you have not attempted to steal a watch. Pardon me, but how dare
+you plead guilty? You will cover yourself with disgrace and infamy. You
+will break your mother's heart. You will be utterly ruined for life.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear Forster, no one knows of my being here, and no one need know
+except yourself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are mistaken; you have been recognized. I was sent for to identify
+you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then the proud face did grow pale, but the proud light did not die out
+of the gray eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am sorry for it, but I cannot help it. I must 'dree my weird.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Forster stood looking at him like one stupefied.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If the sun had fallen from the heavens,&quot; he said, &quot;it would not have
+surprised me more. Surely, surely you are going to trust me and tell me
+what this means?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I cannot. Go on with everything just the same. Tell my mother I have
+gone abroad for six months, and if you value my name, keep my secret
+from spreading, if you can.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And then a rough voice called John Smith to the prison van.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<br />
+
+<a name='CHAPTER_III'></a><h3>CHAPTER III.</h3>
+
+<h4>The Papers Again.</h4>
+<br />
+
+<p>Mr. Foster went home in a terrible rage. His clerks could not imagine
+what had happened. He looked pale, worried, anxious and miserable. &quot;I
+should not think,&quot; he said to himself, &quot;that such a thing ever happened
+in the world before.&quot; His clients thought him bad tempered; he had the
+air of a man with whom everything had gone wrong&mdash;out of sorts with all
+the world.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The man is mad,&quot; he said to himself, with a shrug of his shoulders;
+&quot;neither more nor less than mad to fling away his life and disgrace his
+name. It is useless to think it will never be known; those stupid papers
+are sure to get hold of it, and then there is little chance of secrecy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He went about his work with a very unsettled, wretched expression on his
+shrewd face. Something or other had evidently disturbed him very much.
+While on his part John Smith, with the same light in his face and the
+same fire in his eyes, went off in the prison van.</p>
+
+<p>He heard very little of what was going on around him. He seemed to be
+quite apart in some dreamland, some world of his own. When the coarse
+suit of prison clothes was brought to him, instead of the disgust the
+attendants expected to see, there came over his face a smile. To himself
+he said: &quot;I could almost kiss them for her sweet sake.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That man is no thief,&quot; said one of the warders. &quot;I do not care if they
+did catch him with the watch in his hand, he is no thief! I know the
+stamp!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>How he passed that first day and night was best known to himself. The
+jailer who brought his breakfast the next morning said, &quot;You look
+tired.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He smiled and said to himself, &quot;I would have gone to death for her sweet
+sake! This will be easy to bear.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>When that same morning dawned Mr. Forster was all impatience for his
+newspaper. Twice he rang the bell and asked if it had come, and when the
+servant brought it up he looked at it eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Give it to me quickly,&quot; he said. Then he opened it, and was soon
+engrossed in the contents. Suddenly he flung it down, and almost stamped
+upon it in his rage.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I knew it would be so! Now it will be blazoned all over England! What
+can have possessed him?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The paragraph that excited his attention and anger ran as follows:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We are informed on good authority that the John Smith tried yesterday
+on the charge of stealing a watch is no less a person than Basil
+Carruthers, Esquire, the owner of Ulverston Priory, and head of one of
+the oldest families in England.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What can I do?&quot; cried Mr. Forster; &quot;it will break his mother's heart;
+she can never forget it. He is ruined for life. For a lawyer, I am
+strangely unwilling to tell a lie; but it must be done! He must be saved
+at any price!&quot; He went to his desk and wrote the following note:</p>
+
+<div class='blkquot'><p>&quot;To the Editor of 'The Times':
+
+<p>     &quot;Sir: I beg to call your attention to a paragraph that appears in
+     'The Times' of today stating that a man, tried under the name of
+     John Smith for stealing a watch, is no less a person than Basil
+     Carruthers, Esq., of Ulverston Priory. As the solicitor of that
+     family, and manager of the Ulverston property, I beg to contradict
+     it. Mr. Carruthers, himself, informed me of his intention to go
+     abroad. Without doubt his indignant denial will follow mine. I am,
+     sir, etc.,</p>
+
+<p>     &quot;Herbert Forster.&quot;</p></div>
+
+<p>&quot;That may help him,&quot; he said. &quot;I do not like doing it, but I cannot see
+my old friend's son perish without trying to save him. I may fail, but I
+must try. Perhaps my lie may be blotted out, like Uncle Toby's oath. If
+I can persuade him to send a denial, and date it Paris or Vienna, he
+will be saved.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Forster lost no time in applying for an order to see the prisoner.
+It was granted at once.</p>
+
+<p>Basil Carruthers&mdash;we may use his right name now&mdash;looked up in surprise
+when Mr. Forster, with the paper in his hand, entered the cell.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Back again?&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes; it is just as I expected; the papers have got hold of your name,
+and there is a grand expose.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Basil held out his hand and read the paragraph.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is enough to make your father rise up from his grave,&quot; said the
+lawyer; &quot;I cannot understand what madness, what infatuation, has come
+over you, to drag such a proud name as yours through the dust.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So it is known,&quot; said Basil, slowly. &quot;Well, I cannot help it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have done my best,&quot; said Mr. Forster. &quot;I have never yet asked you if
+you stole the watch&mdash;the idea is too absurd.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They are so far right that I was found in the room; nothing else
+matters.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can only imagine that the same folly which has brought you here will
+keep you here,&quot; said Mr. Forster. &quot;The only thing to be done is to send
+a denial to the papers. If you will write one, I will go to Paris myself
+to post it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Basil Carruthers laughed contemptuously.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I shield myself behind a lie!&quot; he said. &quot;Never!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are too late,&quot; replied Mr. Forster; &quot;I have already written, and
+sent, a very indignant denial, saying you have gone abroad.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Basil's face grew pale, as it had not done during that trial; then an
+angry fire flashed from his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And you have dared to do this?&quot; he cried. &quot;You have dared to publish a
+lie to screen a Carruthers?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I would have dared a great deal more to have saved you from public
+ignominy,&quot; said Mr. Forster.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do not apply that word to me!&quot; said Basil, angrily.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If I do not, every one else will. Your position is ignominious, Mr.
+Carruthers; the paltry crime you are charged with is the same; and the
+name that for centuries has been honored in England will be low in the
+dust, sir. I would rather have been dead than have seen such a day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The handsome young face changed slightly; evidently these thoughts had
+not occurred to him; he seemed to seek solace from some inward source of
+comfort of which the lawyer knew nothing.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I must bear it,&quot; he said, unflinchingly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is but one thing you can do,&quot; said Mr. Forster; &quot;only one means
+of escape&mdash;write a letter at once containing a most indignant denial of
+the identity. I will go myself purposely to Paris and post it there.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear Forster,&quot; said the young man with a smile of languid contempt,
+&quot;I would not ransom my life, even, with a lie!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;In my opinion,&quot; said the lawyer, bluntly, &quot;you have done worse in
+pleading guilty&mdash;you have acted a lie, at least.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know my own motive. I am the best judge of my own actions.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Certainly,&quot; was the sarcastic reply. &quot;I should not think any young man
+of your prospects was ever in such a position before.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Perhaps, as I said before, no man ever had the same motive,&quot; and a look
+of heroism and high resolve came over his face which astonished the
+lawyer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;In the name of your dead father,&quot; he said, &quot;who held the honor of his
+house so dear, I pray of you to write that letter!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not to save my head from the block!&quot; he replied. &quot;I am here, and I must
+bear all that follows. I had hoped to preserve my incognito. If I
+cannot, well, I must bear the shame.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And your mother?&quot; asked the lawyer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My poor mother! Perhaps, after all, you had better go down to Ulverston
+and tell her! She will begin to wonder where I am. Besides, the London
+house must be attended to.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If I know Lady Carruthers rightly,&quot; said the lawyer, &quot;she will never
+get over the blow.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Tell her that I am here, and why, but tell her also that I refuse to
+give an explanation to any human being. Tell her the honor of the
+Carruthers seals my lips; try to comfort her if she seems distressed; do
+all she wishes you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How am I to comfort a mother whose eldest and only son has thrown all
+prudence to the wind; who has disgraced himself so far as to stand in a
+felon's dock; who has wantonly laid his life bare and waste&mdash;for what?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A strange smile came over the young face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah! for what! I know; no one else does. There is a reward, and it
+satisfies me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If ever a Carruthers went mad,&quot; said Mr. Forster, angrily, &quot;I should
+say you were mad now!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Basil paid no heed to the remark.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The only thing I can do,&quot; he said, &quot;I will do. I will go to Vienna as
+soon as I leave here. I will not remain in London one-half hour.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I fear your compliance will be too late then,&quot; he said. &quot;I must leave
+you, if I go to Ulverston this evening. I have several matters that I
+must attend to. Will any persuasion of mine induce you to alter your
+mind?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No; though I thank you for your interest.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And the lawyer left the young man's cell with something like a moan upon
+his lips.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<br />
+
+<a name='CHAPTER_IV'></a><h3>CHAPTER IV.</h3>
+
+<h4>Ulverston Priory.</h4>
+<br />
+
+<p>During his walk from the prison to his office, Mr. Forster was stopped
+several times.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is this rumor about young Carruthers true?&quot; asked Sir James Hamlyn,
+anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; replied the little lawyer, stoutly, &quot;the paragraph is a joke, and
+if we can find out the author of it, he will be punished.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Serve him right. I told Lady Hamlyn there was some absurd mistake. Very
+glad to hear it. Good morning.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mr. Forster, stop one moment!&quot; cried Major Every; &quot;surely this tale of
+Carruthers stealing a watch is all false?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;False as the foul fiend himself,&quot; said the little man, in a rage.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I knew it&mdash;I said so. Young men with twenty thousand a year do not
+steal. A likely story! What does it mean, then?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Some one who owes him an ill-turn has played this sorry jest upon him;
+but we shall pay him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He deserves transportation. I do not know a nobler young fellow in all
+the world than Basil Carruthers.&quot; A fashionable carriage was standing at
+his office door when he reached it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The Countess of Northdown waiting to see you, sir,&quot; said the clerk.</p>
+
+<p>Entering his private room he saw a lovely lady, fashionably attired, who
+greeted him with exquisite grace. Her face was very pale and her lips
+quivered as she spoke to him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good morning, Mr. Forster. You will be surprised to see me, but knowing
+you are the family solicitor, I called to ask you if this shocking story
+about Mr. Carruthers is true.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Heaven have mercy on me this day,&quot; thought the lawyer, &quot;my soul is
+steeped in lies.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Certainly not, Lady Northdown. Mr. Carruthers is abroad. The fact of
+the matter is, the prisoner resembles him, as a vile caricature does, at
+times, resemble the original, and some would-be wag who saw it, thought
+the writing of this absurd paragraph a great joke.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He deserves shooting,&quot; said my lady, angrily.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That may be his fate, when Mr. Carruthers catches him,&quot; was the grim
+reply.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I told Lord Northdown it was all nonsense,&quot; she continued. &quot;I am much
+obliged to you for your kindness, Mr. Forster.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was a rustle of silken robes, a stirring of sweet perfume, and
+then Lady Northdown was gone, only to be succeeded by another and
+another, until the lawyer gave himself up for lost on account of the
+many falsehoods he had told.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Tomorrow my contradiction will set all this straight,&quot; he thought;
+&quot;especially if it be followed by a letter from my lady, and I must
+compel her to write. I would as soon try to drive wild oxen as to
+persuade a Carruthers.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He was not able to start for Ulverston until the end of the afternoon.
+It was full two hours' ride by rail from London, and all the way there
+the lawyer was worrying himself with conjectures, and trying to solve
+what he thought honestly the greatest mystery he had ever known.</p>
+
+<p>It was six o'clock on a bright May evening when he reached Ulverston.</p>
+
+<p>He ordered a fly, and drove at once to the Priory. More than half that
+busy town of Rutsford belonged to the Carruthers. They were lords of the
+manor, masters of the soil. To them belonged also the fertile lands, the
+profitable farms, the hop gardens, and broad meadows that stretched
+between Rutsford and the Priory.</p>
+
+<p>As the lawyer drove through this rich inheritance, his wonder increased.</p>
+
+<p>What could possess any man blessed with such a birthright to place
+himself in so false and degraded a position?</p>
+
+<p>Then the carriage entered the Ulverston woods, said by connoisseurs to
+be the finest and most picturesque in England. Such a glorious sight on
+this May evening as made the lawyer's heart beat, though many years had
+passed since the fountain of poetry flowed for him. The hawthorn and
+chestnut trees were all in flower; the maple and ash wore their most
+luxuriant foliage. The grand old oaks in their leafy boughs concealed
+myriads of singing birds; underneath the shade of the trees, the blue
+hyacinths stretched out like the waves of the azure sea, the violets hid
+their modest heads, great golden primroses shone like stars from the
+midst of green leaves. The air was sweet and warm; the music of the
+birds and the whispers of the wind were full of melody.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A man possessed of all this,&quot; thought Mr. Forster again; &quot;he must be
+mad.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then the carriage stopped before the grand entrance of one of the most
+magnificent mansions in England. Ulverston Priory&mdash;whose beauty has been
+described, in prose and in verse, by pens more eloquent than mine.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is Lady Carruthers at home?&quot; asked Mr. Forster of the stately old
+butler.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My lady is at home, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Will you ask if it is convenient for me to see her? I have come hastily
+from London on important business.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>With all the solemnity an old family retainer displays on such
+occasions, the butler led the way to the library.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will send your message to my lady at once, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He went away and soon returned.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My lady is dressing, but she will be with you in a few minutes.&quot; He
+placed a decanter of the famous Ulverston sherry on the table, and
+withdrew. Mr. Forster gladly helped himself to a glass. &quot;I would take
+that or anything else to give me courage,&quot; he said to himself. &quot;How am I
+to tell her? I know not.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In a quarter of an hour the door opened, and a stately lady,
+magnificently dressed, entered the room. She was very dignified, of
+queenly presence and bearing, with the remains of great beauty in her
+face.</p>
+
+<p>She bowed most courteously to the lawyer, and held out her white,
+jeweled hand.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good evening, Mr. Forster,&quot; she said; &quot;your visit has taken me by
+surprise. You are well. I hope?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Quite well, Lady Carruthers, myself. Quite well, I thank you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But his manner was so confused, his face so flushed, that the stately
+lady looked at him in wonder.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And my son, Mr. Forster! Have you seen him lately? Have you left him
+well?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He was in perfect health, Lady Carruthers, when I saw him last,&quot;
+replied the lawyer, stiffly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am glad of it. I have no wish to complain, but I have not heard from
+my son lately. He has not time to write, I suppose.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There will be no use in beating about the bush,&quot; the lawyer thought. &quot;I
+had better speak plainly at once.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Lady Carruthers,&quot; he said, &quot;have you seen today's 'Times'?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; she replied; &quot;I have been so deeply engaged with visitors, I have
+really not opened it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then I must ask you to prepare yourself for something very
+disagreeable. I wish I knew how to save you from the knowledge&mdash;but I do
+not.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The diamond necklace rose and fell as though she breathed heavily; her
+face grew quite white.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Does it concern my son, Mr. Carruthers?&quot; she asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Alas, that I must say yes, Lady Carruthers,&quot; he answered; &quot;I am not a
+man of sentiment, but I would give many years of my life to spare you
+this pain.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is he dead?&quot; she asked, hoarsely.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, it is not so bad as that,&quot; he replied.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not death; and I know it is not disgrace. I can bear what you have to
+tell me, Mr. Forster.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He took both papers from his pocket and laid them before her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Read this paragraph first,&quot; he said; &quot;and then this.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She did as he wished. When she read the second, her proud face flushed,
+and she drew her figure to its full height.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What does this mean?&quot; she said, contemptuously. &quot;My son, Mr.
+Carruthers, charged with stealing a watch? What does it mean, Mr.
+Forster?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Lady Carruthers,&quot; said the lawyer, &quot;it is true. I was in court when
+your son, under the name of John Smith, pleaded guilty to the charge of
+getting in the room belonging to Count Jules St. Croix, and I, myself,
+heard him sentenced to six months' imprisonment.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She sat for some minutes, silent, mute and motionless. Then in a low
+voice she asked: &quot;Is he mad?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That was my first thought. It is some weeks since I had seen him, and
+yesterday morning a note was brought to my office, from a gentleman in
+court, telling me your son was in the dock. I hastened there and found
+it true. You may imagine how quickly I followed him and implored of him
+to tell me the mystery, for mystery I feel sure there is. Instead of
+looking ashamed of himself and miserable, he had a light in his face
+that puzzled me. I blamed him, told him the consequences&mdash;how his life
+would be useless to him after this, but he only smiled; my words made no
+impression on him; he evidently derived comfort and support from some
+source known to himself and no others.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And is it possible?&quot; asked Lady Carruthers, with ghastly face; &quot;does he
+lie in prison now?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He does indeed, and there he must remain until the six months are
+ended.&quot;</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<br />
+
+<a name='CHAPTER_V'></a><h3>CHAPTER V.</h3>
+
+<h4>Lady Carruthers.</h4>
+<br />
+
+<p>My lady rose from her seat with an air of almost tragical dignity.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My son in prison!&quot; she cried; &quot;I cannot believe it. What has come over
+him? Can you explain the mystery to me, Mr. Forster?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I cannot&mdash;the only thing that occurs to me is that he has gone to this
+count's room for some purpose that he will confide to no one, and that
+he has taken the watch in his hands and was discovered with it. He asked
+me to tell you that the honor of the Carruthers sealed his lips.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Did he say that&mdash;my Basil, Mr. Forster? If that be the case, rest
+assured&mdash;although I blush to say it&mdash;there is a woman in it. I can
+imagine Basil capable of suffering anything from a mistaken motive of
+chivalry. Do you know with whom Mr. Carruthers has chiefly associated
+since he has been in town?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do not. I know that he has been in a very fast and fashionable set;
+he told me as much; also that he has spent a good deal of money. One
+check for three thousand pounds vanished in a day, and he gave no
+account of it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Three thousand pounds!&quot; cried Lady Carruthers; &quot;yet he neither drank,
+betted nor gambled.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; said the lawyer; &quot;Mr. Carruthers told me he had never touched a
+card and never would. I know he did not care for betting.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The proud, anxious mother raised her eyes to the lawyer's face. &quot;How,
+then, do you think he has got through it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I cannot tell. You must pardon me, my lady, if I remind you that
+although I am family solicitor, agent and manager of the property, I am
+not the guardian of your son.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know,&quot; she said, clasping her hands. &quot;I little thought he would ever
+need a guardian; he seemed all that was honorable and upright. I cannot
+imagine what has changed him. I regret so bitterly that I let him go to
+London alone.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is a terrible position,&quot; said the lawyer; &quot;the only thing is to
+clear him as much as we can. The moment I read this I wrote an answer
+and sent it to the 'Times' to the effect that Mr. Carruthers had gone
+abroad.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A slight frown came over the delicate face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I implored Mr. Carruthers to write an indignant denial, and to let me
+go to Paris to post it, but he would not hear of such a thing; the very
+idea seemed offensive to him. I hope, Lady Carruthers, to induce you to
+write such a letter.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What kind of a letter?&quot; she asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;One to the editor of the 'Times' denying the report, and saying that
+your son has gone abroad.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But that would be grossly untrue,&quot; she said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, yes! I know that, still if we can save him, we should.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will try any honorable means you choose to suggest,&quot; she replied;
+&quot;but not even to save my son from death could I consent to write or
+publish a lie.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of course you know best, Lady Carruthers,&quot; said the lawyer, with a
+shrug of the shoulders. &quot;Words are but words, and very few of them might
+have saved your son from public shame.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have never yet believed in the success of a lie,&quot; said her ladyship.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Pardon me,&quot; said Mr. Forster, grimly, &quot;then you have forgotten the
+pages of history. I came down purposely to persuade your ladyship to do
+this. I am well aware that at first sight it seems contrary to all one's
+notions of truth and honor, but there is so much at stake. My denial,
+couched in strong terms, will appear tomorrow. If it were succeeded by a
+letter from your ladyship, written in the same strain, people would
+laugh and believe that it was a great mistake. I had so many inquiries
+this morning before I left London, and I gave the same answer to all,
+that it was the sorry jest of an evil-disposed person. If your ladyship
+would but second my efforts, all would be well; we could get him through
+in safety.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Lady Carruthers had risen from her seat and stood with her proud
+figure drawn to its utmost height.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will do anything you propose, save tell a lie. If my son can be
+rescued by no other means, he must bear his punishment.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then my journey is in vain,&quot; said Mr. Forster. &quot;I may return to London
+at once.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; said Lady Carruthers; &quot;I cannot allow you to return after that
+long journey&mdash;you must stay and dine with us. Pardon me,&quot; she said,
+seeing that he looked hurt and uncomfortable. &quot;I have spoken strongly,
+but truth has always been far dearer to me than life. I do full justice
+to your motives. I appreciate your kindness, but in this manner I cannot
+help you. Stay and take dinner with us; then we can consult as to what
+is best to be done.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;May I give your ladyship one piece of advice?&quot; said the lawyer. &quot;Have
+the papers&mdash;yesterday's and today's&mdash;destroyed, so that no rumor of
+anything amiss can reach your servants; also say nothing of it&mdash;it may
+possibly die away, as some rumors do. Your visitors and friends will not
+broach such a subject to you, I am sure.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I shall not mention it,&quot; she replied; &quot;although Marion will be sure to
+suspect something wrong.&quot; At that moment the last dressing-bell rang.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will join us in a few minutes,&quot; said Lady Carruthers; &quot;never mind
+your traveling-dress; Miss Hautville and I are quite alone.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>No one who saw Lady Carruthers leave the library with stately step and
+dignified air, would have believed that she had received a blow which
+laid her life and all her hopes in ruins&mdash;as the lightning smites the
+lofty oak. She went back to her sumptuous bedroom that she had left half
+an hour ago, so calm and serene, so unconscious of coming evil. Looking
+in the mirror, she saw her face was deadly pale&mdash;there was no trace of
+color left on it, and deep lines had come on her brow that had been so
+calm.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It will not do to look so pale,&quot; said Lady Carruthers; and from one of
+the mysterious little drawers she took a small powder puff that soon
+remedied the evil.</p>
+
+<p>Then she went to the dining-room. Miss Hautville and Mr. Forster were
+talking together like old acquaintances, and the three sat down to
+dinner together.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Forster was, as he himself often said, a grim old lawyer, without
+any poetry or romance, but even he could not sit opposite the pale, pure
+loveliness of Marion Hautville unmoved; there was something about her
+that reminded one irresistibly of starlight, delicate, graceful, holy
+veiled loveliness. She was slender and graceful, with a figure that was
+charming now, but that promised, in years to come, to be superb; the
+same promise of magnificent womanhood was in the lovely delicate face.
+The pure profile, the delicate brows, the shining hair, braided Madonna
+fashion, were all beautiful, but looking at her, one realized there was
+greater beauty to come.</p>
+
+<p>She looked across the table with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And now, Mr. Forster, you have told me how London looks; tell me
+something about my cousin, Mr. Carruthers.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He made some indifferent answer, and as he did so, he thought to
+himself:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Can it be possible, that with a chance of winning this lovely girl&mdash;one
+of the richest heiresses in London&mdash;that Basil Carruthers has given his
+heart to some worthless creature, who has spent his money and helped him
+to prison?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A question that, if our readers will kindly follow us, we will answer in
+the succeeding chapters.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<br />
+
+<a name='CHAPTER_VI'></a><h3>CHAPTER VI.</h3>
+
+<h4>Youth Full of Beauty and Promise.</h4>
+<br />
+
+<p>There was no man of greater note in England than the late Royston
+Carruthers, Esq., Lord of the Manor of Rutsford. He was one of the
+ablest statesmen and finest orators in England. He had been returned for
+the Borough of Rutsford for many years, without opposition. To hear him
+make a speech was a decided treat; a handsome man of stately presence,
+he invested every word with new dignity. The grand volume of sound
+rolled on in one continuous stream; the ideas he expressed were noble,
+the sentiments patriotic and exalted; his gestures were full of
+animation and grace.</p>
+
+<p>Royston Carruthers had done great service to his country in his time. He
+had advocated several important measures; his eloquence had facilitated
+the introduction of several bills; his country thought well of him, and
+for a wonder, was grateful to him.</p>
+
+<p>Government offered him the title of Baron Rutsford of Rutsford, and he
+had declined it, saying that his ancestors had for years asked no higher
+title than that of Lord of the Manor, and he valued his name&mdash;Carruthers
+of Ulverston&mdash;too highly to ever exchange it for another.</p>
+
+<p>In the very pride and zenith of his prosperity he married the Lady
+Hildegarde Blenholme, the only daughter of the Duke of Blenholme. She
+was a very beautiful and accomplished woman&mdash;proud to a fault, but
+generous and noble in disposition. They had one child, Basil, and while
+he was yet a boy, his father died, worn out with work and over-exertion.
+He left his wife, Lady Hildegarde Carruthers, sole guardian of the boy,
+expressing a wish that she should bring him up to resemble herself in
+mind and disposition as far as it was possible.</p>
+
+<p>Three years after the great statesman's death, a cousin of Lady
+Hildegarde died, leaving her only child, Marion Hautville, under the
+sole care and guardianship of the mistress of Ulverston Priory.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bring her up as you would a daughter of your own,&quot; wrote the dying
+mother. &quot;She has a large fortune&mdash;save her from fortune-hunters.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And Lady Carruthers scrupulously carried out her kinswoman's wish. She
+took the girl to her own home, Ulverston Priory; she superintended her
+education; she brought her up in simple, refined habits&mdash;succeeded in
+making of her a perfect lady and a noble woman.</p>
+
+<p>Then the dearest wish of her heart was to see her son, the heir to
+Ulverston, marry Marion Hautville, one of the loveliest girls and
+wealthiest heiresses in England. She was far too wise ever to express
+such a wish openly, none the less it was deeply engraven on her heart.
+They were warmly attached to each other and Lady Carruthers fancied that
+she already saw some signs of liking on the part of Marion for Basil.</p>
+
+<p>While Miss Hautville pursued her quiet, ordinary course of education
+under Lady Carruthers' roof, Basil went through Eton and Oxford; at both
+places he gained high honors and at both places he succeeded in puzzling
+his tutors and masters. He was of such a peculiar disposition;
+chivalrous, romantic, brave, yet with something about him&mdash;they could
+not define what, but quite unlike other boys.</p>
+
+<p>He did not evince any taste for any particular branch of study; he had
+no inclination for the navy, for serving his country as his father had
+done before him. In fact, it was difficult to tell in what direction his
+taste really lay. Still, he left college with high honors, and his
+masters prophesied great things for him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He will make himself famous some day,&quot; they wrote to his anxious
+mother. &quot;In the mean time, let him see something of the world, and you
+will know in what direction his talent lies.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>So, crowded with honors, he came home to Ulverston. He was eighteen then
+and one of the handsomest young men England could boast. No barber's
+beauty; strong, comely, of noble bearing, with a face that had come to
+him from the crusaders of old.</p>
+
+<p>Then Lady Hildegarde set herself to work to discover what manner of man
+her son was. She was puzzled; he was brave, generous, full of high
+spirits, truthful, even to bluntness. She could not discover any grave
+fault in him. She thanked God he had no vices, no mean faults, no
+contemptible failings.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Basil,&quot; she said to him, one evening, as the three sat around the
+drawing-room fire. &quot;Confess now, do you not like and admire the olden
+times better than these?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; he replied; &quot;I always did.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I knew it,&quot; said Lady Hildegarde; &quot;I understand now what has always
+puzzled everyone who has had the care of you. You were born two hundred
+years too late; the ancient days of knight errantry and chivalry would
+have suited you better than these.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is your fault, mother,&quot; he replied. &quot;When I was only twelve years
+old, you gave me a beautiful edition of Froissart's Chronicles, and
+everything else has seemed dull and tame to me since.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I thought as much,&quot; she said, quietly; &quot;you make the same mistake
+others have made before you; you live in the past, not in the present.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are right, mother; in these days, there seems to me nothing to do.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your father thought differently,&quot; she said; &quot;he died from overwork.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah! my dear father was a genius,&quot; said the young man, thoughtfully, and
+for some minutes there was silence between them.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can understand you,&quot; said Lady Hildegarde, with a smile; &quot;you would
+like to have been a knight, always looking out for some romantic
+adventure; you would have fought giants, released distressed
+princesses.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Overthrown all wrong and upheld all right,&quot; he said; &quot;that would have
+been my vocation.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Lady Hildegarde went over to him and laid her hand on his head. &quot;My
+dearest boy, you are young yet, but will live to see that there is as
+much to be done in the way of redressing wrong now as there was in the
+days when knights rode forth to do battle for lady fair.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I want some romantic adventure,&quot; he said; &quot;I cannot see much in the
+plain, common ways of man. I should like to do something that would make
+me a hero at once, something brave and glorious.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear boy,&quot; she said; &quot;God grant you may learn to distinguish true
+from false, true romance from mere sentiment, true gold from mere
+glitter.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He looked so eager, so handsome, she kissed him with passionate love.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I should like to have been one of King Arthur's knights,&quot; he said,
+musingly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear Basil,&quot; said his mother; &quot;your mind is chaos. I tell you there
+are giants to be fought, hydra-headed ones&mdash;the giants of ignorance, of
+wickedness, of injustice, and they call for a sharper, keener sword than
+that wielded by the knights of old.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And there came into her heart a great fear lest her boy, who had too
+much imagination, too much ideality, would waste his life in dreams.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will tell you, Basil,&quot; said Marion Hautville; &quot;what I call a great
+hero. The man who does his duty perfectly in the state of life in which
+God has placed him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We all do that,&quot; replied Basil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Indeed we do not&mdash;you do not, to begin with. You ought now, instead of
+dreaming about Froissart and his barbaric times, you ought to be
+studying hard how to make a good master of this large estate&mdash;how to
+employ the vast wealth given to you&mdash;how best to serve your God, your
+country and those who will depend upon you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Solomon in petticoats!&quot; cried Basil, gaily, and Marion joined in his
+laugh.</p>
+
+<p>That conversation gave Lady Carruthers many uneasy moments. She
+understood so well the dreamy, yet ardent, romantic temperament of the
+boy.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What shall I make of him?&quot; she said. &quot;Will he ever learn to live
+contentedly here at Ulverston, doing his duty, as Marion says, to God
+and man? My poor Basil, he lives too late!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She asked advice from those best fitted to give it. One and all said the
+same thing; there would be nothing so useful for him as a tour on the
+Continent, seeing plenty of the world and going into society.</p>
+
+<p>So Lady Carruthers, who loved home very dearly, gave up its peaceful
+tranquillity, and went with Basil and Miss Hautville to Paris, where
+they remained some months until they saw all that was most brilliant in
+that brilliant capital; from there to Berlin; then on to Vienna, and
+Basil lost much of his dreamy nature.</p>
+
+<p>He was eager, ardent, impetuous, longing, as is the fashion of young
+men, to do brave deeds, to be a great hero, and not in the least knowing
+what to do.</p>
+
+<p>He was just twenty when they returned home, at the commencement of the
+year; Lady Carruthers, worn out with travel and excitement, longing for
+rest. There was more to be done&mdash;her son had been presented at most of
+the courts of Europe; he must attend the first levees held in London
+this season.</p>
+
+<p>The Carruthers had a magnificent mansion in Belgravia. Miss Hautville
+begged for one year more of seclusion and privacy, so that Lady
+Hildegarde and her son went to London alone. She remained there for a
+week, and then, finding her son afloat in London society, she returned
+to Ulverston.</p>
+
+<p>And Basil Carruthers, the dreamy, ardent, romantic boy, remained in
+London alone.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<br />
+
+<a name='CHAPTER_VII'></a><h3>CHAPTER VII.</h3>
+
+<h4>A Modern Bayard.</h4>
+<br />
+
+<p>Perhaps Lady Carruthers never did a more unwise thing than when she left
+her son, with his peculiar temperament and notions, to go through a
+London season alone. She honestly believed herself to be doing right.
+She was ill and unable to bear the whirl of fashion and gaiety. She
+could not withdraw him from town to spend the gayest month of the year
+in seclusion.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Leave him to me, Hildegarde,&quot; said her cousin, Colonel Mostyn. &quot;I will
+pilot him safely through the rocks and deep waters; nothing makes a man
+as self-reliant as feeling that he is trusted entirely.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And knowing that Colonel Mostyn was an elderly man, who knew about as
+much as there was to know of life in all its phases, Lady Hildegarde had
+no scruples.</p>
+
+<p>The colonel and the young squire were most luxuriously established at
+Roche House, the Carruthers' family mansion in Belgravia. Lady
+Hildegarde made every arrangement for keeping up the establishment in
+all bachelor's comforts. There was an excellent housekeeper, one who had
+been at Ulverston Priory for many years.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will be able to give some good dinner-parties,&quot; she said to her
+son; &quot;bachelor dinners&mdash;bien entender&mdash;for Mrs. Richards is an excellent
+housekeeper.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Assured and satisfied that all would go well, she left London. She
+hesitated as to whether she should give her son any warning about love
+or marriage, then decided that it would be quite useless.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The boy is naturally so fastidious and refined,&quot; she thought; &quot;he will
+never love beneath him. He will see no one so nice as Marion.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>So Lady Hildegarde Carruthers went to her stately home, little dreaming
+of the fatal news that was to follow her.</p>
+
+<p>Basil cared little for the fashions and frivolities of the day; Colonel
+Mostyn tried to laugh him out of his romantic and chivalrous ideas.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are behind the age, Basil&mdash;quite unfit for it,&quot; he would say to
+him. &quot;Chevalier Bayard would not be appreciated in these times.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He listened with a smile on his face, while the young man talked of
+something to do&mdash;some grand action to fill up his life, some heroic deed
+with which to crown himself.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Utopian, Basil&mdash;all those are Utopian ideas. Progress is the order of
+the day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is there nothing?&quot; asked Basil, &quot;no way in which a man may distinguish
+himself after the fashion of the heroes of old?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The colonel smiled sarcastically.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear boy,&quot; he said, &quot;between ourselves, some of those heroes of
+yours were unmitigated ruffians, I hardly like to give utterance to such
+a sentiment, yet I believe it. You cannot defend a bridge after the
+fashion of Horatius&mdash;you cannot conquer worlds like Alexander. I fancy
+you will have to be content with being one of the best lords of the
+manor Rutsford has ever known.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are sentimental, Basil,&quot; he said to him one morning, &quot;but not
+practical. A man is nothing unless he is practical. Why not give up all
+these foolish notions of being a great hero? Go down to Ulverston,
+build schools, almhouses, mechanics' institutes and all that kind of
+thing. Marry and bring up your family to fear God and serve the queen.
+One ounce of such practice is worth all the theory in the world.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Basil could not see it&mdash;he longed for the unattainable, the ideal.
+What lay plainly before him was a matter of great indifference to him.</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Mostyn, the keen, cynical man of the world, was, perhaps, the
+best companion he could have had. But the colonel had many anxious
+thoughts over him. At last an idea struck him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The finest thing that could happen to Basil would be a very decided
+flirtation with a beautiful, worldly woman, who would laugh him out of
+these fantastic ideas and make a modern man of him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>So thought the colonel, and so has thought many a one before him, little
+dreaming of the danger of playing with fire.</p>
+
+<p>But Basil did not seem to care much for ladies' society. He went to two
+or three grand balls and pronounced them stupid, on hearing which, the
+colonel raised his eyes and hands in horror.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A young man of twenty who finds a ball stupid is past hope,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>There had been a great flutter in the dovecotes when it was known that
+Basil Carruthers, the heir of Ulverston, son of the great statesman, a
+young man whose income was quite twenty thousand per annum, besides the
+savings of a long minority, was in London&mdash;free, disengaged, and, as a
+matter of course, wanting a wife. Invitations literally poured in upon
+him&mdash;he accepted them at first, but soon grew tired.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A tres dansantes at Lady Cecilia Gorton's,&quot; he said, holding out an
+invitation card at arm's length. &quot;Go, if you like, colonel. I do not
+care for it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The colonel was engrossed in the buttering of his roll, an operation
+which he always performed himself, but he was sufficiently astonished to
+pause in his proceedings and look at his nephew with a very horrified
+face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You do not mean to tell me, Basil, that you are tired of ladies&mdash;young
+ladies?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear colonel,&quot; said the young man, quietly, &quot;I am very sorry to tell
+you that I find one chignon very much the same as another.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Mostyn sighed deeply. What Mentor could make anything out of
+such a Telemachus? He resigned himself, thankful that what he called one
+civilized taste remained&mdash;Basil enjoyed the opera.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I would really sooner see him fall in love with an opera dancer than
+remain what he is,&quot; thought the man of the world.</p>
+
+<p>One evening they went to the opera. It was &quot;Lucretia Borgia,&quot; and, as
+usual, Basil Carruthers saw nothing but the stage. In vain did the
+unwearied colonel call his attention to Lady Evelyn Hope, the lovely
+blonde; the fascinating Spanish Countess Rosella; to the twin sisters,
+the Ladies Isabel and Marie Duncan&mdash;he looked at them without interest.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wonder,&quot; thought the colonel to himself, &quot;if the woman be living who
+could touch that cold, icy heart!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The opera was nearly over when he saw Basil looking intently at the
+occupants of a box on the grand tier. He even raised his glass, and sat
+for some minutes oblivious of everything and everyone except one central
+figure. Very quietly and without attracting Basil's attention, Colonel
+Mostyn raised his glass and looked at the box. His gaze was steadfast
+for some minutes, then he gave utterance to a prolonged sigh.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That will do,&quot; he said to himself.</p>
+
+<p>Like the diplomatist that he was, Colonel Mostyn said never a word, but
+when the act was ended, he turned to Basil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I see a lady, an old friend of mine, and I am going to spend a few
+minutes with her.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He went to the box, and had the satisfaction of seeing that Basil never
+removed his glass. When he returned to his own seat, the heir of
+Ulverston said, somewhat eagerly:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who is that lady, colonel, with whom you have been speaking?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear boy,&quot; he replied, &quot;one chignon is just like another; which do
+you mean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is no chignon in this case. I mean the lady with whom you have
+been speaking.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is Lady Amelie Lisle,&quot; he replied, briefly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Amelie Lisle!&quot; repeated Basil; &quot;but who is she?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you wish to know her pedigree, you must consult Burke's Peerage. I
+can only remember that she is the daughter of Lord Grayson, who married
+a French duchess, and rumor says she is the loveliest and most
+accomplished woman in England.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is she married?&quot; was the next question.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes; she married Lord Lisle, and rumor, always busy with beautiful
+women, says again that she is not too happy. Do you know Lord Lisle?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No; I do not remember having ever seen him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;When you do, you will realize what it is for a man to be all animal. He
+eats well, sleeps well, drinks well; he rides out a great deal in the
+fresh air; he is tall and portly, never, perhaps, read a book through in
+his life, good humored, generous in his way, but obstinate as a&mdash;well,
+as a woman.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And is that lovely lady married to such a man?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes; the lovely lady was very young, and perhaps his fortune tempted
+her. She is all fire and poetry, plays with passion as children play
+with sharp knives.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Will you introduce me?&quot; asked Basil Carruthers.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear Basil,&quot; replied the wily diplomatist, with an air of assumed
+frankness, &quot;I really do not think you would like her. She is fond of
+balls, of dancing, of all sorts of amusements that you despise. If I
+introduce you to anybody at all, it must be to Minerva in disguise.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I should not like Minerva,&quot; was the abrupt reply.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, as you seem anxious, I will undertake it. We are going to the
+Duchess of Hexham's ball tomorrow evening. Lady Amelie Lisle is sure to
+be there&mdash;no grand ball is complete without her. She is so surrounded
+now. I hardly like to interrupt her. Are you going to the Hexham ball?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Now Basil had said no, he should certainly decline the invitation, but
+he seemed to forget it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Certainly I shall go,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah, then we shall see her there,&quot; replied the colonel, and his long
+mustache concealed the triumphant smile with which he listened to the
+words.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<br />
+
+<a name='CHAPTER_VIII'></a><h3>CHAPTER VIII.</h3>
+
+<h4>Lady Amelie at Home.</h4>
+<br />
+
+<p>The poets of old must have been thinking of a woman like Lady Amelie
+when they wrote of circes and sirens, and women whose beauty has proved
+fatal to men. It is perhaps quite as well that they are very rare&mdash;the
+power of a beautiful woman is great. If she be good, and use it for a
+good purpose; the world is the better for it. If she be bad, and her
+beauty is simply used as a lure, the world is the worse for it.</p>
+
+<p>Either for good or evil, the power of Lady Amelie was great, for a more
+royally beautiful woman had seldom been seen. She was the very ideal of
+glowing, luxurious loveliness, and her beauty was perhaps the least of
+her charms. She had that wonderful gift of fascination which makes even
+a plain woman irresistible. Allied to beauty so wondrous as hers, it was
+fatal.</p>
+
+<p>It is morning, and Lady Amelie, fresh and radiant as a June rose, is in
+her boudoir, an exquisite little room, hung with pink silk and white
+lace; the windows were draped with pink silk, and the light that came
+through was subdued and rosy, the fairest of all lights in which to see
+a fair woman.</p>
+
+<p>A gem of a room, from which a painter would have made a room glowing in
+luxurious color. The air was heavy with the perfume of white hyacinths
+and daphnes&mdash;the jardinieres were filled with the sweetest of flowers;
+Lady Amelie loved them so well; she was never so pleased as when in the
+midst of them. There was a marble Flora, whose hands were filled with
+purple heliotropes&mdash;in fact, every beauty that money, taste or luxury
+could suggest, was there. Pale pink was a color that Lady Amelie
+loved&mdash;her chairs and couches were covered with it. She is sitting now
+in a pretty, fantastic chair, the subdued rosy light of the room falling
+full upon her. She is reading the fashionable daily paper, smiling as
+some on dits meet her eye. Surely such beauty as that should be
+immortal. No wonder that Basil Carruthers, whose eyes had never rested
+long on a woman's face before, should not weary of hers.</p>
+
+<p>It is the beauty of an empress, royal, commanding, statuesque, yet
+radiant and full of grace. Her figure, as she reclines, is perfection;
+the soft, flowing lines, the gracious curves, the free, unfettered
+grace, the queenly dignity, all combined, enchant one. The head, whose
+contour is simply perfect, is crowned with a mass of dark hair, shining
+like the lustrous wing of some rare bird. The brow is white, rounded at
+the temples and clear as the leaf of the lily. The brows are straight,
+delicate and have in them wonderful expression. But it was Lady Amelie's
+eyes that drew men so irresistibly to her feet. They were irresistible.
+Black, with a languid, golden light in their wondrous depths; full of
+veiled fire and repressed passion. They could melt and flash, persuade
+and command, as no other eyes did. No man ever looked into their depths
+without losing himself there. Her mouth was no less beautiful, tender
+and sensitive; yet those lovely lips could curl with scorn that withered
+and pride that crashed.</p>
+
+<p>She knew that she was beautiful, and she rejoiced in her beauty, as the
+lion in his strength or the serpent in its cunning. Men she looked upon
+as her natural vassals, her subjects, her lawful prey. She never once,
+in the whole course of her triumphant life, paused to think whether or
+not she inflicted pain. If any one had said to her, abruptly, &quot;You have
+made such a person suffer,&quot; she would have laughed gaily. The ache and
+pain of honest hearts is incense to a coquette.</p>
+
+<p>And Lady Amelie Lisle was a coquette to the very depth of her heart! She
+could have counted her victims by the hundred. Who ever saw her and did
+not love her? She delighted in this universal worship; it became
+necessary to her as the air she breathed. Universal dominion was her end
+and aim; but once sure of a man's love or admiration, it became
+worthless to her and she longed for something fresh. Like Alexander, she
+would have conquered worlds.</p>
+
+<p>Not, be it understood, that Lady Amelie, as she expressed it, &quot;ever went
+in for anything serious.&quot; She had never been in love in her life, except
+with herself, and to that one affection she was most constant. She
+accepted all, but gave none. Once or twice her flirtations had been on
+the verge, but Lady Amelie was one of those who can look very steadily
+over the brink but never fall in.</p>
+
+<p>The world spoke well of her. &quot;She was certainly a great coquette,&quot;
+people said, indulgently, but then she was so beautiful and so much
+admired. She smiles as she reads the fashionable intelligence; there is
+a paragraph describing her appearance at a ball given by one of the
+queens of society. The paper speaks of her beauty, her magnificent dress
+and costly jewels. She remembered all the homage, the sighs, the
+whispered words, the honeyed compliments, smiled and thought how sweet
+life was.</p>
+
+<p>At that moment her maid entered. &quot;My lady,&quot; she said. &quot;Colonel Mostyn
+would be so much obliged if you could see him. It is on important
+business.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Certainly. I will see him here,&quot; she replied. &quot;What can he want with
+me?&quot; thought my lady. &quot;He was very empresse last night; surely he is not
+going to make love to me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And the notion of a gray-haired lover piqued her and made her smile
+again.</p>
+
+<p>The colonel entered with the most courtly of bows, and she received him
+graciously. He talked of the opera, of the ball, of the last new novel,
+of the latest marriage on the tapis, and all the time Lady Lisle's
+beautiful eyes were looking at him. &quot;It was not for this you came,&quot; she
+thought. At last the colonel spoke openly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have come to ask of you a great favor, Lady Lisle,&quot; he said. &quot;You
+have perhaps heard of my young kinsman, Basil Carruthers?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The heir of Ulverston?&quot; she said. &quot;Certainly. He is one of the prizes
+in the matrimonial market at present, colonel.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Mostyn drew a very animated and interesting portrait of his
+young charge.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He wants modernizing; his ideas are dated two hundred years back. Lady
+Lisle, there is no one who could work such wonders for him as you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What could I do?&quot; she asked, with a conscious smile.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You could modernize him and humanize him. Will you allow me to
+introduce him to you? And will you take him in hand a little&mdash;teach him
+something of life as it is, not as he dreams of it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What if he burns his wings, like many other silly moths?&quot; she asked,
+laughingly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It would do him all the good in the world,&quot; he replied, with
+enthusiasm. &quot;Will you believe, Lady Lisle, that he never admired any
+one, not even Lady Evelyn Hope? He never admired any face until he saw
+yours last evening.&quot; That piqued her. &quot;I have never seen anything like
+his indifference to all ladies. Dear Lady Lisle, you are the brilliant
+sun that alone can melt this icicle. I assure you, that his mother and
+myself are in despair.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You must not blame me,&quot; she said, &quot;for whatever happens. You choose to
+run the risk.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nothing can happen but what will be for his greatest good,&quot; said the
+colonel, gallantly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You may introduce him to me,&quot; said Lady Amelie, &quot;and I will do the best
+I can for him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will be at the Duchess of Hexham's ball this evening?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; she replied. &quot;You have described your charge, Colonel Mostyn; now
+I know the carte du pays. It would be better not to mention having seen
+me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Certainly not&quot;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Let me see,&quot; she interrupted. &quot;I am to teach him what life is like in
+this nineteenth century, to try to inoculate him with modern ideas; to
+teach him how to appreciate the society of ladies; he shall learn his
+lesson well.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was something in her peerless face and her brilliant smile that
+made Colonel Mostyn pause, and wonder if after all he had done a wise
+thing.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The boy cannot be hurt,&quot; he said to himself; &quot;he has too much sense to
+fall in love with a married lady. A violent flirtation will do him good,
+and cure him of his absurd ideas.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your ladyship will be the benefactress of the whole family if you can
+rescue our young hero, and help us make him in some degree fit for the
+age he lives in.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Lady Amelie smiled; there was not much fear in her failing in anything
+she undertook.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is not often that young men err on the side of originality and
+singularity,&quot; she said; &quot;I have always considered realism the sin of the
+age. I am quite curious to see your hero, Colonel Mostyn.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I believe he is quite as anxious to see you, Lady Lisle; he positively
+asked me to introduce him to you, and that is a request he has never
+made before, though I have shown him some beautiful women.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I ought to feel flattered,&quot; said Lady Amelie, and again there was
+something in her smile that made the colonel wonder whether he had done
+amiss.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We are quite in a conspiracy,&quot; he said, and Lady Lisle laughingly
+assured him that all women were fond of plots.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your sex, my dear colonel, are so strong and so wise that it is a real
+pleasure to any poor weak woman to outwit you.&quot; And Lady Amelie shot him
+a glance from her beautiful eyes that made the colonel again half pity
+his young kinsman.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<br />
+
+<a name='CHAPTER_IX'></a><h3>CHAPTER IX.</h3>
+
+<h4>Weaving the Spell.</h4>
+<br />
+
+<p>The Duchess of Hexham bore the reputation of being a most accomplished
+woman; if she excelled in anything it was certainly the giving of balls.
+She had the largest, loftiest and best ball-room in London. It was never
+overcrowded.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;As many flowers as possible,&quot; she was in the habit of saying; &quot;but we
+must limit our guests.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It did not matter either who was fashionable and who was not, the
+duchess would have nothing but beauty and grace at her balls. You were
+sure at Hexham House to meet the most beautiful women in London and the
+most eligible men. It was consequently agreed on all sides that her
+grace gave the best balls during the season. This one at which Lady
+Amelie was to be present, promised unusual splendor.</p>
+
+<p>An archduke of one of the European courts was just then the guest of the
+queen, and he had promised to honor Hexham House with his presence.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He shall see such lovely women,&quot; said the duchess to her husband, &quot;that
+he shall go back to his own country in despair.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>To Lady Amelie she had said, laughingly: &quot;Look your very loveliest. I
+want you to make a conquest of the archduke.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And that queen of coquettes thought to herself that her hands on that
+eventful evening would indeed be full. Not one word did the diplomatic
+old colonel say to Basil, but that young man was not quite himself. He
+had been wonderfully attracted by Lady Lisle's face; he read poetry,
+love of romance and everything else beautiful and piquant in it. Of all
+the women he had seen she was the only one who had interested him. He
+wondered whether the mind matched the peerless face. She must be clever,
+witty, brilliant, he thought, or she would not have kept all those men
+enchained as she did. He was very anxious to see her again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If she is like everyone else,&quot; he said, &quot;I shall soon be disenchanted,
+but if she speaks as she looks, she will indeed be peerless among
+women.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He longed for the evening. He said nothing of her, but he talked so
+incessantly of the Duchess of Hexham, that the colonel understood
+exactly where his thoughts were, and smiled again most knowingly to
+himself.</p>
+
+<p>He looked at his young kinsman in his faultless evening dress, and said
+to himself that there was not in all England a more noble or handsome
+man.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Amelie called all the skill of the milliner to her aid; her dress
+was superb and effective&mdash;gold flowers on a white ground&mdash;a dress that
+irresistibly reminded one of sunbeams; it fell around her in statuesque
+folds that would have driven a sculptor to despair. Her beautiful neck
+and white arms were bare. She wore a diamond necklace of almost
+priceless value; her dark, shining hair was crowned with a circlet of
+the same royal stones; a diamond bracelet clasped one rounded arm. As
+she moved the light shone on her dress and gleamed on her jewels, until
+one was dazed with her splendor.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Amelie was very particular about her flowers. On this evening, with
+her costly dress and magnificent jewels, she would have nothing but
+white daphnes. Did she know that the sweet, subtle fragrance of a daphne
+reaches the senses long before the odor of other flowers touches them?
+As she surveyed herself in the mirror, she felt devoutly satisfied.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I shall be able to convert Basil Carruthers, Esq., to anything I like,&quot;
+she said; &quot;if he has resisted all the world, he will yield to me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>So she drove off, resplendent, happy, animated, ready for the weaving of
+her spells.</p>
+
+<p>Any good Christian, seeing her pass by with that triumphant smile on her
+lovely face, might have prayed their nearest and dearest should be kept
+from harm.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Amelie never arrived very early at a ball. She liked to make her
+entree when most of the other guests were assembled. It was sweet to her
+to see how sorry and shy the ladies looked at her arrival, and how the
+faces of the men brightened. The first thing, of course, when she
+arrived at Hexham House, was the archduke. It was wonderful to watch the
+various phases of character that she could assume at will. With the
+archduke, she was the brilliant woman of the world, witty, sarcastic,
+adorable. He was enchanted with her; he declared that she combined all
+the charms of English and French women; he danced with her and would
+fain have lingered by her side, but that etiquette called him away.</p>
+
+<p>Then Lady Amelie, already the belle of the ball, looked up, for Colonel
+Mostyn was standing before her, and by his side one of the handsomest
+and noblest young men she had ever seen. He introduced Basil Carruthers
+to his fate.</p>
+
+<p>She looked in his face with a smile, and drawing aside a fold of her
+sumptuous dress, made room for him to sit near her.</p>
+
+<p>He thought her even more dazzlingly beautiful than when he had seen her
+at the opera. The perfume of the white daphnes must have touched his
+senses as those most lovely eyes smiled into his; his brain seemed to
+reel; he was intoxicated with her beauty as some men are with the fumes
+of rare wine.</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Mostyn lingered for a few minutes, then, well satisfied, went
+away, leaving Basil and Lady Amelie together. She had taken her seat
+under the shade of a magnificent mass of gorgeous, blooming flowers,
+with wondrous leaves and rich perfume. As she sat with her gleaming
+dress and jewels showing to perfection, from against this beautiful
+background, Basil was completely charmed. In all his life he had never
+even seen such a picture. She turned to him, when they were alone, with
+the sweetest smile on her lovely lips; her eyes seemed to rain down
+light into his.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This is a brilliant scene, Mr. Carruthers; the duchess excels in the
+arrangement of her rooms.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He made some reply; he never quite knew what it was. It was enough for
+him to watch the charm of that irresistible face as she spoke. &quot;Of
+course, everything depends on taste,&quot; she continued; &quot;I quite expect you
+to laugh at me, but do you know what scene I should find much more
+brilliant than this?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I cannot imagine,&quot; he replied; &quot;but I shall not laugh.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah, well. I am peculiar in my tastes. In place of this brilliant
+ballroom, I should like to be seated at a tournament. I should like to
+see the knights with their banners and waving plumes, in the lists&mdash;the
+ladies in their balconies all hung with cloth of gold&mdash;the queen of
+beauty with the prize. Ah, me! in those days, ladies had knights and men
+were heroes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>As he looked at her, his whole soul shone in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I, too,&quot; he cried. &quot;I love those days ten thousand times better
+than these.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you?&quot; asked her ladyship with admiring eyes, &quot;how strange! It is not
+long since I was speaking to one whom I may call a young man of the
+period, and his reply was, 'Horrid bore, those kind of things were, Lady
+Lisle,' and I thought most young men were of his opinion.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am not,&quot; said Basil, &quot;I love those knights and heroes of old! great
+men and grand men who were content to ride forth, and to battle unto
+death for a woman's smile.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She raised her radiant eyes to his.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Would you do that much for a woman's smile, Mr. Carruthers?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He paused a moment before speaking, then said: &quot;For one such woman as
+those men loved, I would.&quot; She sighed deeply; the jewels on her white
+breast gleamed and glistened.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah, you think, then, that the glorious race of women heroes loved and
+died for, have disappeared?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I thought so, until I saw you,&quot; he replied.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are wrong,&quot; she said. &quot;You will live to tell me that you are wrong.
+There may be no Helen such as she who lived at Troy, and no Cleopatra
+such as Egypt's dusky queen, but there are grand women living yet,
+worthy of heroes' love.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am sure of it,&quot; he said, &quot;now that I have seen you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But she made no reply; she did not even appear to have heard his words.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can understand you,&quot; she said, gently. &quot;Women have sometimes the rare
+gift of entering into the minds of reserved men. I understand you as
+though I had known you for years.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>His face cleared, his heart beat, his eyes brightened for her as they
+had never done for any other woman.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can remember,&quot; she said, &quot;when I had many similar opinions. I used to
+think these, our present days of steam and progress, quite unfit for
+heroes; I used to long for olden times again, when, by one great deed, a
+man made a great name.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>His eyes shone with new fire as he looked at her; it seemed to him that
+he had found his other soul at last. His mother laughed at him; Marion
+Hautville was sarcastic to him, but this beautiful woman&mdash;this
+magnificent queen at whose feet men bowed&mdash;she not only sympathized with
+him, but she had the self-same ideas.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The great thing that I complain of,&quot; said Lady Amelie, &quot;is that there
+really seems in these days nothing to do. You, for instance, supposing
+that you were ambitious, how would you distinguish yourself?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And as she asked the question, my lady gave a sidelong look at her
+victim and was charmed to see the progress she had made.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<br />
+
+<a name='CHAPTER_X'></a><h3>CHAPTER X.</h3>
+
+<h4>Deeper and Deeper Still.</h4>
+<br />
+
+<p>It was not possible that the queen of the ball should be allowed to sit
+apart from the dancers long. Many curious glances were bent on the pair
+who sat before the grand tier of fragrant blossoms.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who is that with Lady Amelie?&quot; asked one of another.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mr. Carruthers of Ulverston,&quot; was the, reply; and great was the
+indignation felt by young ladies and their mammas.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Lady Masham had five marriageable daughters, and none had as yet
+received even the faintest shadow of an offer. In her own mind she had
+thought of Mr. Carruthers as especially eligible for one of them, and
+had resolved, when he did go more into society, upon a decided mode of
+attack. Her dismay, when she saw the state of things, can be better
+imagined than described.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear,&quot; she said to her friend and confidant, Mrs. Scrops, &quot;look,
+only look! Lady Amelie has victimized Mr. Carruthers.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She cannot do him any harm,&quot; replied Mrs. Scrops; &quot;she is married, I am
+thankful to say.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There will be no good done with him this season,&quot; said poor Lady
+Masham. &quot;I would rather he had fallen in love than that she took
+possession of him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Basil was not allowed to remain very long tete-a-tete with his
+charming queen. The Duchess of Hexham, alarmed lest her most brilliant
+star should be eclipsed, came to the rescue. Lady Amelie was soon
+surrounded, and then was carried off by the archduke.</p>
+
+<p>Not, however, before she had managed to turn round to Basil and say to
+him, sotto voce, &quot;You must call and see me. We shall be friends, I can
+foretell.&quot; And he was more charmed than ever by those words. Friends
+with that enchanting woman, that proud, peerless queen, that radiant
+beauty! Be friends with her! It was more than he had dared to venture to
+hope. That he might worship her in the distance seemed to him honor
+enough.</p>
+
+<p>He had dreamed of such women, but he had not thought they existed; they
+belonged to the heroic ages, past now and dead. Here, in the midst of
+the days he considered so degenerate, he had found the very ideal of his
+heart.</p>
+
+<p>The brilliant scene before him seemed to fade away. Ah! if there was but
+some faint chance of distinguishing himself for her sake!&mdash;if she were
+but a princess in distress!&mdash;a lady for whom he could enter the lists
+and fight until he won! What was there in this prosaic century that he
+could do for her?&mdash;literally nothing but give her flowers.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Basil! Basil! my dear boy,&quot; said a voice near him. &quot;Pray excuse me, but
+what are you doing here? Dreaming in a ballroom? This will not do.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And Basil, aroused from his dream, looked up to see the face of Colonel
+Mostyn, wearing an expression of perfect horror.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do rouse up, Basil! Do, for heaven's sake, try to be like every one
+else! Lady Masham wishes to know you; come with me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Basil followed, like a victim. Lady Masham received him cordially,
+mentioned casually that she had been to school with his mother,
+therefore felt called upon to take a special interest in himself, and
+then, very kindly, introduced him to her youngest daughter, Miss Nellie,
+whom she pathetically called the flower of her flock. Miss Nellie was a
+pretty girl, as were all the Misses Masham, or they would not have
+figured at her grace's ball. She wore the regulation chignon, golden
+brown in her case, her eyes were blue, her lips rosy and sweet, her face
+fair as the lilies and roses of summer. They had all been brought up
+after the same pattern; they all knew exactly what to say in every case
+and how to say it. As a matter of course, and not, it is to be feared,
+because he felt the least inclination, Basil asked the young lady to
+dance, and Miss Nellie, with the prettiest pink flush on her cheek,
+consented.</p>
+
+<p>She talked about the rooms, the opera, the archduke, until Basil almost
+groaned aloud. There was his beautiful queen, with her face full of
+poetry and her eyes of love. Yet if he could but have had both hearts,
+he would have seen that pretty, simple Nellie Masham, who talked
+innocent little commonplaces to him, was worth a thousand of such women
+as Lady Amelie Lisle. But it is not given to men to see clearly;
+anything but that. When Basil Carruthers had finished that dance he
+longed to escape, lest he should be compelled to go through another.
+Then came another moment of rapture for him, when, from the midst of a
+crowd of courtiers, Lady Amelie summoned him to take her to her
+carriage. Already they seemed like old friends. Basil drew the lace
+shawl around the white shoulders and held her flowers.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You have told me I may call,&quot; he said; &quot;will you tell me when?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am visible any time after two,&quot; said Lady Amelie. Not for any amount
+of love or homage would she forego her comforts. Then it seemed to him
+that the world stopped until two the next day. He went back to the
+ballroom, but its beauty had all departed&mdash;there was no soul in the
+music, no fragrance in the flowers.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Colonel,&quot; he said, &quot;I have had quite enough of the ball. Are you ready
+for home?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The colonel, who was quite satisfied with the result of the night's
+work, declared that he also was ready, and they went.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A very pleasant ball,&quot; remarked the diplomatist, as they drove home.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Was it?&quot; said Basil dreamily. &quot;I did not notice much&mdash;the only part of
+it I enjoyed was the conversation I had with Lady Lisle. Ah, colonel, if
+the ladies of the present day resembled her, there would be some hope
+for chivalry.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;God forbid,&quot; thought the colonel to himself. Aloud he replied: &quot;Yes,
+she is a very beautiful and most accomplished woman.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She is more than that; she has a touch of genius and fire and poetry. I
+have met no one like her.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can only hope,&quot; thought Colonel Mostyn, &quot;he will not take the disease
+too severely. I want a difference, but I do not care to have a case of
+raving love and madness on my hands.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>At breakfast time the next morning, Colonel Mostyn was pleased to see
+that, for the first time, Basil eagerly opened the papers and spoke
+anxiously of the evening engagements.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Better rest at home, tonight,&quot; said the colonel; &quot;you were out last
+evening, and going out much tires you, I know. What do you say to a
+quiet game at chess?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I cannot say positively. I shall not know what my evening engagements
+are until dinner-time.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And then the colonel felt quite relieved. &quot;He is going to call on Lady
+Amelie,&quot; he thought, &quot;and wherever she goes this evening he will follow.
+I shall soon see him like other young men.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>As for Basil himself, he simply lived in one longing for two o'clock. My
+lady was perfectly ready to receive him. She had arranged a little scene
+and smiled to herself as she thought how sure it was to succeed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He saw me all magnificence last evening; now I will play a different
+role.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She wore a plain dress of some white flowing material, with a knot of
+scarlet ribbons on her fair neck; her shining hair was drawn from her
+white brow and fell in luxuriant waves; in it she wore one rose half
+shrouded in green leaves, and never in all her gorgeous magnificence had
+Lady Amelie looked one-half as fair. She was seated in her own boudoir,
+where the white daphnes shone like stars in the rosy light. A picture
+that would have ravished the heart of any man that gazed upon it, and
+Lady Amelie knew that it was perfect, even down to the graceful attitude
+and half sad, half languid expression of her face.</p>
+
+<p>It was not much after two when he came. Her reception of him was
+perfect&mdash;unstudied, graceful, natural; and he looking at her, thought
+her more beautiful than ever.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You were reading,&quot; he said; &quot;have I disturbed you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No; Owen Meredith is a favorite poet of mine; there is something very
+unworldly and beautiful about his verses.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is why you like them&mdash;you are so unworldly yourself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Perhaps so, in one sense. I have just sufficient tinge of it about me
+to teach me that whatever are my thoughts and opinions, if they differ
+much from other people's, I must keep them to myself, unless, as is the
+case now, I meet a congenial soul.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A view of the subject which was quite new to Basil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I thought originality was a sign of genius,&quot; he replied, &quot;and that
+people admired it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She smiled with an air of superiority that left him miles behind.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My observation teaches me that there is nothing worldly people
+disapprove of so highly as originality,&quot; she said. &quot;To be more clever
+than your neighbor is a crime they never pardon.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Basil, drinking in the beauty of that marvelous face, and the light of
+those lovely eyes, learned more worldly wisdom in one hour from the
+lovely lips of Lady Amelie than he had ever learned before.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='CHAPTER_XI'></a><h3>CHAPTER XI.</h3>
+
+<h4>How the Plot Succeeded.</h4>
+<br />
+
+<p>Colonel Mostyn had no longer any reason to complain of his young
+kinsman; it was a month since he had been introduced to Lady Amelie, and
+he had lived in one long dream. He no longer found the time wearisome,
+or longed for something to do. He was in the power of a beautiful and
+heartless coquette, who took care that he should not lightly wear her
+chains.</p>
+
+<p>He no longer showed any indifference to his evening engagements; to be
+with her was the one wish of his life; where she went, he went&mdash;to ball,
+opera, soiree, concert, fete, to dinners at Richmond, to water-parties;
+whoever saw the beautiful Lady Amelie, saw her last victim with her.</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Mostyn began to think that really matters had been carried quite
+far enough; all the good he had anticipated was done; he did not wish
+evil to follow, and he was beginning to scheme for his young kinsman's
+rescue, when he was suddenly summoned to join his regiment, just ordered
+abroad, and Basil was left to his fate.</p>
+
+<p>He gave him some parting words of advice, but they fell on deaf ears.
+Even had Basil quite understood them, he would have asked how was it
+possible for a matter-of-fact, prosaic soldier like Colonel Mostyn, a
+man of the world, to understand such transcendental beings as Lady
+Amelie and himself.</p>
+
+<p>During the whole of this time, believe me, he had no thought of harm or
+wrong; he never dreamed of being in love with Lady Amelie. What was she
+to him? His queen, his lode-star, his inspiration to all that was great
+and glorious, the Lama to his Petrarch; but of anything less exalted, he
+had no notion. Basil Carruthers, with all his eccentricity, would have
+shuddered at the bare notion of dishonorable love or sin. He was an
+enthusiast, a dreamer, a poet in heart and soul, but he was not the man
+to betray a woman; he scorned the notion of such a sin; it was utterly
+beneath his lofty nature. How skilfully she managed him! How artfully
+she contrived to lead him on, to engage his whole thought, time and
+attention, yet never to lose her influence for one moment!</p>
+
+<p>Take a scene from her life and his. A bright, beautiful summer day,
+when, with a large party of friends, they had gone down to Richmond.
+When dinner was over, and the sweet, soft gloaming lay over the earth,
+Lady Amelie left the room, where the guests were lingering over the wine
+and grapes, and went out into the balcony that overlooked the green park
+and the smooth, clear water.</p>
+
+<p>Seeing that, and feeling tired of the conversation, Basil followed her.
+She was leaning over the stone balustrade, and the green foliage
+wreathed round the balcony formed a beautiful frame-work for a lovely
+picture. He went up to her, and stood in silence by her side.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How different these two worlds are!&quot; she said. &quot;The world in there, all
+heat, noise and frivolity; the world out here, so calm, so grand and
+still. Look at the shadow of the trees in the water! Look at the
+floating clouds of rose-colored light in the sky!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But he thought nothing in that outside world so beautiful as she
+herself.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Are you found of German stories?&quot; he asked her, suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, some of them. I like the mystery and the spirituality, the poetry
+and the romance.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I read a book of Fouque's last night that charmed me&mdash;Minstrel Love. Do
+you know it, Lady Amelie?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; she replied; &quot;tell me what it is.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Only the history of a poet-knight who loved the lofty Lady Alcarda. She
+lived with her husband, a German warrior, in an old castle, and the poet
+was her knight.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you know, Lady Amelie,&quot; he whispered, &quot;that book made me ambitious?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of what?&quot; she asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Dare I tell you? The Lady Alcarda was beautiful, gifted, pure of heart
+and soul, lofty and spiritual&mdash;like you,&quot; he added, passionately, &quot;and
+she accepted the poet's service&mdash;she made him her knight.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There are no knights in these days,&quot; she said, half sadly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah! let me prove to you that you are wrong. You are like Lady Alcarda.
+Let me be your knight. I would be content to serve you in all chivalry,
+and in all honor, until death, if you would reward me with a kind word
+and a smile.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>His handsome young face looked so eager, so wistful, that the coquette's
+heart smote her for one half moment. Knowing what was before him, was it
+not too cruel to lead him on? But the short-lived feeling of compunction
+soon died. She bent her head and the perfume of the flowers she carried
+reached him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Would you be my knight?&quot; she said; &quot;would you go through danger and
+peril to serve me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I would die for you,&quot; he replied, simply; &quot;quite content, if you smiled
+on me as I died.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you mean it, without any romance or nonsense? Seriously, would you,
+to serve me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes: and count all loss as gain.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then you shall be my knight, my friend. I am not a queen. I have no
+sword to lay on your shoulder, but I place my hand in yours, and I
+accept your loyal service.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She laid her white hand in his, and the touch of those slender fingers
+thrilled him as nothing had ever done before.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am your sovereign liege,&quot; she said, with a smile. &quot;If I come to you
+in distress you are sworn, remember, to help me. If I require your
+service, it is mine.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; he said; &quot;at all times and at all hours.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I shall go through life the more happily for knowing that I have so
+true and chivalrous a defender,&quot; she replied.</p>
+
+<p>And they sat in the flower-wreathed balcony, watching the sun set over
+the river, and the simple, dreaming boy believed himself in Paradise.</p>
+
+<p>It seemed to him that the spell was broken when the other guests came
+out and joined them. As he could no longer talk to Lady Amelie, he was
+content to stand by himself and think over his own happiness. To him it
+was like a beautiful page from some old romance, that this lovely lady
+should have smiled upon him, and have laid her gracious hand upon him,
+calling him her knight. How insufferable the empty talk of the men
+around him seemed! Ah, if they knew how he was sworn to do the lady's
+service!</p>
+
+<p>It was more than an hour afterward when Lady Lisle was free again; then
+he enjoyed the felicity of helping her with her shawls, and of sitting
+by her side while they drove home in the moonlight.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Amelie was the very queen of coquettes. In the course of all her
+long experience, she had never, through all her flirtations, said one
+word too much. But no other woman living could imply so much by a
+gesture, a look or an exclamation. One morning Basil had called early,
+in the hope of escorting her to an exhibition of paintings. He found her
+alone, and while he was talking to her, a gentleman entered the room&mdash;a
+tall, portly, sensual-looking man, whom Basil disliked at first sight.
+Lady Amelie introduced him to her husband, Lord Lisle, who was very
+cordial in his greeting.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Lady Lisle has often spoken of you,&quot; he said; &quot;but this is, strange to
+say, the first time I have ever had the pleasure of seeing you. I met
+your mother, Lady Carruthers, a year ago, and have a most pleasant
+recollection of her.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Lord Lisle sat down, and Lady Amelie gave a pretty little sigh,
+expressive of her resignation to something unpleasant.</p>
+
+<p>And truly a conversation with Lord Lisle was about as unpleasant a
+matter as one could well experience. His language was coarse; his ideas
+coarser still. There was very little to redeem it. He mistook slang for
+wit, told stories that made his wife shudder, and misbehaved himself as
+only such a man can do.</p>
+
+<p>Basil looked at him in dismay. Could it be possible that this man was
+the husband of that queen of beauty? What a life for her! No wonder she
+looked sad as she sat listening to him! The young man's heart ached for
+her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Are you engaged this evening?&quot; asked Lord Lisle; &quot;if not, dine with us.
+I expect Sir Harry Vere, and he is the most amusing character I know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He would have refused, but that he met the imploring glance of Lady
+Amelie's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will come with pleasure,&quot; he replied; and her eyes thanked him.</p>
+
+<p>Then Lord Lisle, thinking he had been most amiable and charming, rose
+from his chair and quitted the room. In some vague, indistinct way the
+atmosphere seemed clearer after he had gone.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Amelie made no comment; a woman less gifted than herself might have
+done so; she merely raised her hands and eyes and gave one deep sigh.
+Will you believe me that that sigh meant more than any other woman could
+have put into words? It meant &quot;Pity me! see how I am wasted on this boor
+of a man! think how uncongenial he is, how wretched I am.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>No one could sigh so effectively as Lady Amelie Lisle; thus it was with
+difficulty she refrained from smiling. Basil looked so wretchedly
+anxious and uncomfortable, she saw that he was longing to say something,
+but dare not.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I shall not be five minutes,&quot; she said, with a graceful little smile;
+&quot;and then we can spend a long hour with the pictures.&quot;</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<br />
+
+<a name='CHAPTER_XII'></a><h3>CHAPTER XII.</h3>
+
+<h4>Caught in the Snare.</h4>
+<br />
+
+<p>The first part of that hour was charming. Basil never forgot it; the
+rooms were not crowded, the pictures beautiful, and Lady Amelie in one
+of her most graceful moods. They both stood before a little gem by one
+of our first English artists, called &quot;The Coquette's Decision,&quot; a very
+pretty picture that told its own story. A young girl, standing, half
+hesitating between two gentlemen. They looked anxious, she smiling and
+triumphant. She inclined ever so little to the fair-haired youth on the
+right, her eyes and lips smiling on him, but her hand was extended to
+his dark-haired rival on the left.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do not like that kind of picture,&quot; said Basil, &quot;it lowers one's ideal
+of woman. I do not think there is one-half so much coquetry in the world
+as people would make you believe.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Perhaps you never knew a coquette,&quot; she said; and the look she gave him
+from underneath those long lashes was quite irresistible.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; he replied; &quot;indeed, a coquette could never charm me. My ideal of
+woman is some one as lofty, grand, beautiful and gifted as you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yet there are coquettes,&quot; she said, gravely.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do not doubt it. I only say there would be no charm for me in the
+fairest of them all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Just then two gentlemen entered at the other end of the room, and the
+slight noise made by their entrance caused Lady Amelie to look up.
+Basil, who was watching her every movement, as he always did,
+attentively, saw her turn very pale and a sudden cloud of fear dimmed
+the radiance of her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Lady Amelie, you are ill!&quot; he cried; &quot;or tired.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am tired,&quot; she said, and they sat down on one of the seats, placed
+in the middle of the room. It struck him that she was anxiously trying
+to conceal herself from observation, yet the idea seemed absurd.</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime, the two gentlemen advanced slowly up the room. They,
+too, paused before &quot;The Coquette's Decision,&quot; and laughed. Then one,
+leaving his companion, came hastily to the seat where Lady Amelie was
+sitting. He held out his hand as though surprised and delighted.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Lady Amelie!&quot; he said. &quot;I felt sure that I was not mistaken&mdash;that it
+must be you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was no answering delight on her face; nothing but constraint,
+embarrassment and confusion.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How do you do, Count Jules?&quot; she said, coldly. &quot;This is an unexpected
+surprise. I thought you had left London for some years.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;L'homme propose, Dieu dispose,&quot; said the count. &quot;I only reached England
+last night, and have hurried to London.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is strange that I should meet you here,&quot; she said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My friend, Monsieur Le Blanc, has a picture here, and I have been
+criticising it for him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then Lady Amelie seemed to remember the laws of politeness, for she
+introduced the two gentlemen, who looked very unpleasantly at each
+other.</p>
+
+<p>Basil did not like the count, although at first sight he was certainly a
+very handsome man, essentially French, with a quick, shrewd, handsome
+face and dark hair, eyes black as night, yet bright and eloquent. It was
+those very eyes that Basil disliked; they were not clear, true nor
+honest. In fact, a sudden hatred to the French count sprang up in his
+heart, he could not tell how or why. They exchanged a few words, and
+then, under pretense of drawing Lady Amelie's attention to a picture,
+Count Jules said to her:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Can you not dismiss your young cavalier? I have come to London on
+purpose to see you&mdash;I must speak to you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I cannot dismiss him,&quot; she said, curtly. &quot;He is not a footman to be
+sent away at my pleasure. Tell me in few words what you want.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I want money!&quot; he said, with a very dark frown; &quot;and money, Amelie, I
+must have.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can give you none&mdash;you have no conscience. How much have you had
+already?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have kept no account.&quot; he replied; &quot;and really what I have had is not
+of the least consequence&mdash;it is what I have to get.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That will be nothing from me,&quot; she replied. &quot;I gave you a thousand
+pounds three months ago, and you promised you would ask for no more.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I did not foresee the present necessity,&quot; he said. &quot;Amelie, I must have
+money.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Count Jules,&quot; said Lady Lisle, &quot;you are a villain, who trades upon a
+woman's fears!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My charming lady shall call me anything she will, but I must have the
+money.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I tell you,&quot; she replied, angrily, &quot;that I have not got it, nor is it
+any use asking my lord for it; he was angry the last time, and I shall
+ask him no more.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then get it from some other source.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is no other source open to me,&quot; she replied.</p>
+
+<p>The count's face darkened angrily.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There need not be so many words about it, Lady Lisle. I must have the
+money.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;By what right do you incessantly demand money from me?&quot; she asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You promised, in those happier days, to be my friend always; and as a
+friend you have lent me money often. As a friend, I ask you for it
+again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And as a friend,&quot; she retorted, &quot;I refuse.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then I shall be obliged to adopt the very unpleasant alternative of
+asking it from Lord Lisle.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Lord Lisle would refuse it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He would give it to me as the means of purchasing my silence,&quot; he said.
+&quot;You forget, Lady Amelie, what I have to show Lord Lisle, if he does
+refuse?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You mean my letters?&quot; she said, indignantly. &quot;You are coward enough to
+threaten me with showing my husband the letters I was so mistaken as to
+write to you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I should be deeply grieved, indeed,&quot; he said, &quot;but I have no other
+alternative.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I mistook you for a gentleman,&quot; she said, with calm scorn.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You were very kind to me, Lady Amelie,&quot; he said, with a polite sneer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do not believe you have those letters,&quot; she said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have, indeed. I have locked them up with the only two family
+heirlooms I possess&mdash;a watch and a ring&mdash;in an ivory casket, and I go
+nowhere without it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You must do your worst!&quot; said Lady Amelie.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nay,&quot; he said, &quot;I do not wish to do that. My worst would be to bring
+the honored name of Lady Amelie Lisle into the divorce court, and that I
+should not like to do. Do not decide hastily. I cannot remain in England
+very long. Take a week to decide in and let me know when I am to have
+the money.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She turned from him with the scornful gesture of an outraged queen.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We shall see,&quot; she muttered between her white teeth. &quot;We shall see.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She spoke no other word to him, but went back to her seat. Count Jules
+bowed and quitted the room.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You do not like that man, Lady Lisle?&quot; said Basil, as he looked at her
+fair, flushed face. Before she had time to answer, they were joined by
+some ladies of his acquaintance, and were not able to exchange another
+word on the subject. As he was leaving, Lady Lisle looked out of the
+carriage.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mr. Carruthers!&quot; she said. He was by her side in a moment. She was pale
+and agitated, not quite herself.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are my sworn knight,&quot; she said, laying her hand on his.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Until death!&quot; he replied.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You promised to help me at any risk, in any difficulty, and now I am
+going to ask your aid.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is yours. My whole life is yours,&quot; he cried. She smiled, sadly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There are some things more valuable than life. Perhaps what I ask from
+you will cost you dear.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do not care in the least what it costs,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are coming to dine with us; we do not dine this evening until
+eight. Come soon after six. I have a story to tell you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will not fail,&quot; he replied. &quot;Do not be anxious, Lady Lisle, you look
+distressed. Trust in me; far as human aid can go, mine is yours.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>His clear blue eyes lingered on her perfect face, and again, for the
+second time in her life, the queen of coquettes felt something like pity
+for the man she was luring to his doom. She leaned back in the carriage
+after he was gone, with a most triumphant smile on her lips.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What wonders a pretty face can work,&quot; she thought. &quot;I feel quite safe,
+now that my troubles are to rest on his broad shoulders. How I should
+like to see that Jules trampled upon and crushed. My knight will save
+me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She never remembered that he was the only son of his mother&mdash;a widow.
+She cared little that he was the head of a grand old race. She thought
+still less of his talents, his honest enthusiasm, his simplicity, except
+so far as it answered her purpose.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<br />
+
+<a name='CHAPTER_XIII'></a><h3>CHAPTER XIII.</h3>
+
+<h4>Ladie Amelie's Story.</h4>
+<br />
+
+<p>A few hours later, and Lady Lisle was seated in her boudoir, exquisitely
+attired. She, who knew so well the effect of every fold in her dress, of
+every flower she wore or carried; she, who had studied the art of
+looking beautiful more completely than any other woman, had not
+neglected her most potent charm. She wore a dinner dress of white silk,
+with crimson flowers, that suited her dark, glowing beauty to
+perfection. An elegant toilet! No jewels, but a massive golden bracelet
+on one arm, and a golden chain of exquisite workmanship round her neck.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I knew you would come,&quot; she said, looking up with a smile as Basil was
+shown into her boudoir; &quot;I knew you would not fail me. We shall have
+time for a long conversation. Lord Lisle never reaches home until a
+quarter of an hour before dinner, and then he has to hurry. Our guests
+will not arrive until nearly eight, so we shall not be interrupted.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He looked round that little fairy nook, wondering at its elegance,
+wondering at the soft, rosy light, at the fragrance of the white
+daphnes, but more than all at the queenly loveliness of the beautiful
+woman before him.</p>
+
+<p>She sat in the very heart of the crimson glow, her glistening silken
+dress sweeping in rich waves, and quite sure that her attitude, like
+everything else about her, was perfect. She held out her hand to him,
+with a smile that would have bewildered any man older and wiser than he.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sit down here,&quot; she said, pointing to a velvet fauteuil; &quot;I am going to
+make you my judge. Ah, Basil, for this one night I may call you Basil;
+perhaps after you have heard what I have to say, you will never be my
+knight again; it may change you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I shall belong to you, and ask no greater happiness than to serve you
+until I die,&quot; he replied,</p>
+
+<p>A fan lay on the table by her side, with jeweled handle, and made of
+white, soft feathers. She opened it and quietly stirred the warm,
+perfumed air.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I could only tell my trouble to you,&quot; she began, in her soft, caressing
+voice. &quot;You will understand me, because you know what it is to have
+wishes, hopes and aspirations that are never realized. You know what it
+is to be unworldly and unlike others.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I was but a girl when I was married, Basil&mdash;an innocent, unsuspecting
+girl, just seventeen. I might plead, in excuse of what followed, that I
+was married without my own inclination being consulted&mdash;unwillingly
+sacrificed to money that never has done me any good, and never will. I
+might plead my youth, my unhappiness, the utter want of congeniality
+with the man I married; but I will not. You shall judge me without
+excuses. I must, however, tell you that at first, for the first two
+years of my married life, I was in despair. There seemed to me no hope,
+no respite&mdash;nothing but despair. Now I have grown accustomed to my
+misery, and can wear it with a smile; then it was otherwise. At that
+time I was first introduced to Count Jules Ste. Croix. I hate myself,&quot;
+she continued, passionately, &quot;when I remember how that man duped me. I
+did not think him handsome, although other ladies raved of his beaux
+yeux and his classical face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But I liked him, Basil, because he had the art of expressing silent
+sympathy for me. He said nothing&mdash;if he had done so, my pride would have
+taken fire and I should have been saved&mdash;but all that other men say in
+passionate words, he conveyed to me in passionate looks. He was very
+kind to me; he used to visit us a great deal, and on several occasions
+he stood between me and Lord Lisle's fierce anger.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He knew all my distress, my troubles, my misery, as well as I know them
+myself. Let me tell you briefly, Basil, that at this unhappy time I
+wrote to him three letters&mdash;only three. I was so miserable, so wretched,
+that, unless I had opened my heart to some one, I must have died. Now
+listen, Basil, and do not wonder if I have ceased to believe in men. He
+answered them, and then, after a time, presumed upon my having written
+to him. Oh, Basil, if I could but spare myself the shame of telling you!
+He made a compact of friendship with me that nothing was ever to break.
+I was but a frightened child, and I made it. He asked me to lend him
+money. Oh, Basil, I was but a frightened, terrified girl, and I lent it!
+Then he tried to make love to me&mdash;he flattered me; he followed me like
+my shadow. But there I was firm; he could not frighten me into anything
+I thought wrong.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, the man is a villain!&quot; cried Basil; &quot;an unprincipled, cowardly
+villain!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wait,&quot; she said, laying her hand on his arm. &quot;Wait; you have not heard
+all. He uses the three letters as a means of extorting money from me.
+Now he threatens that if I do not lend it to him, he will show them to
+my husband.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Basil sprang from his seat, with a hot flush on his handsome young face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will shoot him!&quot; he said. &quot;Such a man is not fit to breathe the air
+of heaven.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hush!&quot; she said again. &quot;You cannot help me unless you are calm. My
+husband does not love me, Basil. The least whisper of this, and,
+innocent as I am, I should be separated from him and disgraced. It is
+from this I want you to save me. If I were married to a noble, generous
+man, I should go to him at once, and tell him the truth. If Lord Lisle
+knew it, he would use it as a pretext for separating himself from me.
+Basil, you are my knight&mdash;you must save me; you must get those letters.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will,&quot; he replied, &quot;at any cost.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I tremble to think how much money, I, in my cowardly fear, have lent
+him. He will want more and more, until he has drained a fortune, and I
+shall be no safer in the end. I will lend him no more money, Basil; but
+you, my only friend, shall get the letters.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will. How shall I do it! Oh, Lady Lisle, let me fight him&mdash;let me
+punish him as he deserves!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; she said; &quot;he is too cunning. If you were to offer to fight with
+him, he would know it was for my sake, and he would so place the letters
+as to fall into my husband's hands if anything happened to him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But the hot flush did not fade from Basil's face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I must thrash him,&quot; he cried.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No; for my sake, and because you would do me true service, you must
+not,&quot; she said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will give him all my fortune for the letters,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That would not do&mdash;he would take your money first, then, holding the
+letters, would still want more. I will tell you the only plan by which
+you can help me. Go boldly into the room and bring the letters away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But that looks so much like stealing them,&quot; he said. &quot;Let me fight him
+and take them because I win.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; she said, sadly. &quot;If you will not help me, as I wish, I must
+forego all aid, and suffer on.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You have but to command,&quot; he cried, &quot;and I will obey.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This is the count's address,&quot; she said. &quot;Go into his rooms; you will
+find there an ivory casket; he keeps the letters there; he told me so.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will do it,&quot; he said, quietly.</p>
+
+<p>A beautiful light came into her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I knew you would save me, Basil,&quot; she said, tenderly. &quot;When will you do
+it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will make my first essay tonight. I shall not rest again until it is
+done.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Go to his rooms,&quot; she said; &quot;ask for him; if they tell you he is not
+in, say you will wait for him; then, while you are in the room, open the
+casket, take out the letters, destroy them at once, and send word to me
+when it is done. Do not stop to think whether I am right, whether it is
+the better plan, but do it at once, because I have said so.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will do it,&quot; he replied. Then she saw a shadow fall over his face.
+&quot;There is nothing really in them, I suppose, Lady Lisle?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nothing,&quot; she said, &quot;but the cry of a woman's breaking heart! Enough to
+ruin me, should my husband ever come to know it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That he never shall; they shall be destroyed. If I die for it, they
+shall be destroyed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah, me,&quot; she said; &quot;had ever liege lady so true a knight? Basil, how
+shall I thank you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The pleasure of serving you will be thanks enough,&quot; he replied.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah, generous knight, noble knight, who shall say true chivalry is
+dead?&quot; And she praised him, she flattered him, she thanked him until the
+slight doubt that had occurred to him died away and he was ashamed of
+it.</p>
+
+<p>He thought of nothing but obeying her. It was sadly against his high
+English spirit to steal into a man's room and take from it; he would
+have preferred fighting until one or the other lay dead. But she had
+said nay, and it could not be. That very evening he called and was told
+the count was not in; the day following he repeated the call, and the
+servant, as he had said at the trial, was suspicious, not recognizing
+him as one of his master's friends.</p>
+
+<p>He called another evening, and, owing to the fact of there being a new
+servant, he was admitted into the count's room. It was empty, although
+the gas was burning. He saw the little ivory casket, and with one stroke
+of his strong, young hand, opened it.</p>
+
+<p>There lay the letters, underneath a watch and ring. He obeyed her; he
+did not lose one instant. He emptied the casket, carried the letters to
+the lighted gas, and burned them! Just as he had raised the watch and
+ring in his hand to replace them, the door opened and the count, with
+his servant, entered the room.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<br />
+
+<a name='CHAPTER_XIV'></a><h3>CHAPTER XIV.</h3>
+
+<h4>The Trap Closed.</h4>
+<br />
+
+<p>The count did not utter one word. He saw at one glance what had been
+done. He recognized the young gentleman whom he had sneered at as Lady
+Amelie's victim. He understood at once what had been done.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She had asked him to destroy the letters, and he has done it,&quot; he said
+to himself. In one moment he had formed his scheme of revenge. He would
+give the young man in charge for stealing his watch and ring. If he
+cleared himself at all, he must tell the truth. He must tell that he had
+not come there to steal a watch, but to destroy Lady Lisle's letters.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If he confesses that,&quot; said the quick-witted count to himself, &quot;she
+will be doubly disgraced; if he declines to confess, I am at least
+revenged upon him.&quot; So, until the entrance of the policeman, the two men
+stood and glared at each other.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You can save yourself,&quot; said the count, &quot;if you will confess what you
+came for, and if you will write that confession down.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Basil smiled contemptuously. &quot;Of what do you charge me?&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I shall charge you with stealing my watch and ring,&quot; was the reply.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Knowing I am innocent?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The alternative lies before you. Confess, as I have said, and Lady
+Amelie suffers; deny, and you go to prison for stealing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It seemed to him far easier. &quot;I will go to prison,&quot; he thought, &quot;I can
+give a false name; no one will know me. There will be no fuss, no stir,
+nothing known, and she, my queen, will be saved.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Of course there was no common sense in such a proceeding, nothing but
+enthusiasm and romance. He certainly had not calculated upon the fact
+being known. He had really believed the false name would shield him. He
+found means through a heavy bribe to send one word to Lady Amelie; it
+was merely the word, &quot;Destroyed.&mdash;B.C.&quot; But it gave the queen of
+coquettes a sense of security she had not enjoyed for long. While Basil
+still lay in prison, Count Jules sought her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You have baffled me, my lady,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; was the calm reply, &quot;I have checkmated you, count. You will
+extort no more money from me, nor will you threaten me again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; said the count, &quot;I confess myself beaten, and I am not a good
+man, either, my Lady Amelie, but sooner than have blighted that young
+man's life, as you have done, I would have suffered anything.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear count,&quot; said Lady Amelie, philosophically, &quot;some men seem, by
+fate and by nature, destined to be used as a cat's-paw.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Count Jules was baffled; his only hold upon the rich and beautiful Lady
+Amelie was broken. What those letters contained was known only to the
+lady and himself. If simply the written expressions of her own
+unhappiness, he placed more value on them than they were worth. The
+chances are that they held more than that.</p>
+
+<p>He was entirely defeated&mdash;they had been his last resources for long. He
+had never failed, by means of them, to extort money from Lady Lisle at
+pleasure. It was useless to threaten any more. She had but to dare him
+to bring forth his proofs, and he had not one word to say.</p>
+
+<p>His only consolation was, that in revenge, he had completely blighted
+the young hero's life, for hero he was, although his heroism was of a
+mistaken kind.</p>
+
+<p>And Lady Amelie&mdash;did she feel any regret for the young life tarnished?
+She missed a very pleasant companion, an enthusiastic adorer, but as
+fortune would have it, there came to England a young Roman prince, who
+was both artist and poet, handsome as a Greek god, and wealthy beyond
+compare. His appearance created a perfect furore in fashionable society,
+and he, as a matter of course, fell in love with Lady Amelie, so that
+she soon forgot the young knight who languished in prison. When the
+season was over, she persuaded her husband to go to Rome, and never left
+even a line or a message for the mistaken young man who had done so much
+for her.</p>
+
+<p>She only did what suited her; she was the queen of coquettes, and she
+made him useful to her; nothing else mattered.</p>
+
+<p>The lonely months wore on very slowly for Basil. At first the notion of
+heroism and the conviction that he was performing a most noble and
+chivalrous deed sustained him; but there was a fund of common sense in
+his character, and this common sense suggested to him that instead of
+being a hero, he had been the dupe of a wily coquette. Not at first did
+this idea strike him; not until long, dreary weeks had passed, and she
+had never sent him even one message of thanks or sympathy. He was very
+angry with the idea at first, thinking it quite a false one, but
+gradually he awakened to the conviction that it was true.</p>
+
+<p>Then his fortitude forsook him, and it was some consolation to hear from
+Mr. Forster that what the kind-hearted lawyer called his
+misrepresentations had been effectual. People had almost forgotten that
+little paragraph that had one morning taken London by storm.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have denied it so constantly and emphatically,&quot; he said, &quot;that my
+words have been believed. As soon as you get out of here, make haste
+abroad, then all may be well.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Even he could not help seeing how entirely the light and brightness had
+faded from the young face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have never said anything to you,&quot; said Mr. Forster, one morning, &quot;but
+I have a certain conviction, Mr, Carruthers, that there is some woman in
+this; you are here for a woman's sake and to screen her from blame; if
+so, it is useless asking you to tell the truth, I know, but make the
+best of it; get out of this as soon as you can.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He did so. When the six months were over, &quot;John Smith&quot; was discharged
+and did not linger many hours in London; he went at once to Paris, and
+there made out where Lady Amelie was.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;In Rome,&quot; replied the gentleman of whom he asked the question. &quot;Her
+last caprice was a young Roman prince, and they are settled there for
+the winter.&quot; To Rome he resolved to go. He would see for himself whether
+she was all that his dreaming fancy had painted her, or whether she was
+what men said&mdash;a heartless coquette.</p>
+
+<p>He went to Rome, and found her, as usual, queen of all that was most
+brilliant and gay.</p>
+
+<p>It was at a soiree given by the Duchessa Sforza. He saw her again,
+beautiful, radiant and magnificent. By her side stood a young man, who
+was handsome as one of the grand old statutes that ornamented the
+galleries of Rome. He watched her, thinking bitterly of the time that
+had passed since be looked his last on that radiant face, and all the
+bitter shame that had been his portion since then.</p>
+
+<p>He crossed the room and went over to her. Whatever dismay she may have
+felt, she showed none. She looked up with a bright, cold smile, as
+though they had parted but yesterday.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mr. Carruthers!&quot; she said. &quot;I hope you are well. I really believe that
+half of England is coming to Rome.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Can you wonder,&quot; said the prince, &quot;when England's fairest queen is
+here?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Lady Amelie introduced the two gentlemen, and after a time the prince
+went away. Then she turned her lovely face to the young man she had
+duped so cleverly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How do you like Rome?&quot; she asked,</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I cannot talk commonplace to you, Lady Lisle,&quot; he said; &quot;I have come
+from England purposely to see you,&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She looked slightly impatient.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah,&quot; she replied. &quot;Of course I am very much obliged to you; but you
+must have been terribly imprudent. Could you not have managed without
+being discovered in that suspicious attitude? I was so grievously
+distressed. You are too quixotic&mdash;you seek needless dangers.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>That was the extent of her gratitude to the man who had saved her
+reputation, character, and fair fame.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I did not compromise you,&quot; he said. &quot;I preferred imprisonment to that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes; but it was quixotic; there was no need for anything of the kind.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am very sorry to have erred from excess of zeal,&quot; he replied,
+sarcastically. &quot;It is a comfort to me to think that I shall not so
+offend again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I hope,&quot; she said, more anxiously, &quot;that it will not injure you&mdash;that
+no one will know about it. It was really too shocking. Prison for a
+young man of your position! It was absurd.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I thought so myself, before I came out; it was absurd; but you will be
+comforted to know, Lady Amelie, that no one seems to have known of it
+but my mother, Lady Carruthers, and my lawyer, Mr. Forster. So far as
+the world is concerned, I am safe.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The prince returned, looking slightly jealous, and then Basil amused
+himself, after a bitter fashion. He watched Lady Amelie playing off all
+her airs, graces, and fascinations on the young prince, as she had
+played them upon him. He was cured. It was a bitter lesson, but it
+lasted him. He began to understand the difference between romance and
+reality&mdash;between dreaming and doing. It had been a hard, bitter, almost
+shameful, lesson, but he was thankful in after years that he had learned
+it.</p>
+
+<p>He found, after a time, that the world was wiser than he thought.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is some story about Mr. Carruthers,&quot; people would say, but no one
+ever knew exactly what it was. He remained in Rome for a whole week.
+Before it was over he was quite cured of his liking for the queen of
+coquettes.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<br />
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='CHAPTER_XV'></a><h3>CHAPTER XV.</h3>
+
+<h4>The Denouement.</h4>
+<br />
+
+<p>Then Basil Carruthers set himself busily to work to discover how he
+might best undo the effects of his folly. The duties he had thought so
+lightly of rose before him now.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will go down to Ulverston,&quot; he said to himself, &quot;and with God's help
+I will be a wiser and a better man.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He saw what his mistaken notions of chivalry had done for him&mdash;how
+completely they had misled him&mdash;how near they had brought him to ruin
+and disgrace. The meeting between mother and son was not the most
+pleasant in the world. Lady Carruthers, stately, sensitive, and proud,
+could not forgive the dark disgrace under which her son had lain. He saw
+how deeply she felt it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mother,&quot; he said, &quot;you must judge me leniently. I own myself mistaken.
+I think, sometimes, I must have been mad, I cannot tell you precisely
+what took me to prison. Will you believe me that it was for a woman's
+sake?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I knew it!&quot; she interrupted.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It was to screen a woman's folly,&quot; he continued. &quot;And, indeed, wrong as
+I was, I believed myself to be doing a most chivalrous deed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is a great pity, Basil,&quot; said Lady Carruthers.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; he said, quietly; &quot;but I was a woman's dupe, and I have suffered
+enough. It was one false step, but I shall spend my life in trying to
+redeem it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He kept his word. In four years' time the name of Basil Carruthers rang
+through the land with a pleasant sound; he had, indeed, found something
+to do.</p>
+
+<p>He was returned for the borough of Rutsford, and his fame as an able and
+eloquent orator spread over the country.</p>
+
+<p>Then he studied to become a model landlord; he built large, airy
+cottages and schools; he paid the attention that every landlord ought to
+pay that the land be well drained, well cultivated. He was a friend to
+all his tenants, a benefactor to his dependants. In the course of time
+people forgot to whisper there had been some story about Mr. Carruthers;
+they only mentioned him in terms of praise. The very quality that his
+mother once thought would be against him now proved to be in his favor.
+If he was more romantic, more enthusiastic than other young men, he
+employed the superabundance of his gifts to excellent purpose.</p>
+
+<p>After some years there was a grand wedding at Ulverston. Basil
+Carruthers won Marion Hautville for his wife. Before they were married
+he took her one afternoon for a long ramble in the green summer woods
+and told her this story. Marion was shocked at first; it seemed to her
+impossible that a man could be so foolish as to mistake a deed like that
+for chivalry.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And what has become of your lovely Lady Amelie now?&quot; she asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She is still the queen of coquettes,&quot; replied Basil; &quot;but, Marion,
+although it was a terrible mistake, and I suffered so bitterly for it, I
+cannot be altogether sorry that it happened. I should have been a
+useless dreamer until the day of my death if this had not taken place.
+It was a rude, rough, but sure awakening.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I shall never call you my knight,&quot; said Marion. &quot;Why, Basil, dear, a
+schoolboy would not have been taken in by such nonsense.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But, Marion, I was not so wise as a schoolboy,&quot; he replied.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She only used you for her own purposes. She simply made a cat's-paw of
+you, Basil.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can see it now, darling, I did not then. But you will forgive me,
+Marion?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes; because, after all, though you were so greatly mistaken, still the
+faults that led to your mistake were almost virtues.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Lady Carruthers was rendered very happy by her son's marriage. When Mrs.
+Carruthers went to London, she proved to be Lady Amelie's greatest
+rival. She was quite as beautiful, as witty, as clever, but in place of
+coquetry, she was gifted with honest simplicity, that men pronounced
+charming, while Lady Amelie, to her great chagrin, began to find her
+attractions on the wane. Men grew tired of her vanity and her cruelty.
+Women disliked her for her selfish disregard of everything but her own
+triumph.</p>
+
+<p>Basil Carruthers bows his head in shame and contrition when he remembers
+this episode in his career. Then Marion, his wife, kisses him with a
+smile, and tells him he is not much the worse for having been once upon
+a time a coquette's victim.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<center>THE END.</center>
+
+<br />
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<center>
+<img src='images/dishes.png' width='70%' alt='gold monogram dinner set' title=''>
+</center>
+
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+
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+
+<p><b>E.D. LIFE, Dept. G.E. 337 W. Madison St., Chicago, Ill.</b></p>
+
+<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12886 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
+
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+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #12886 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/12886)
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Coquette's Victim, by Charlotte M. Braeme
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Coquette's Victim
+
+Author: Charlotte M. Braeme
+
+Release Date: July 12, 2004 [EBook #12886]
+[Last updated: September 21, 2013]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COQUETTE'S VICTIM ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Steven desJardins and Distributed Proofreaders.
+
+
+
+
+
+EVERYDAY LIFE LIBRARY No.1
+
+Published by EVERYDAY LIFE, Chicago
+
+THE COQUETTE'S VICTIM
+
+BY CHARLOTTE M. BRAEME
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+The Trial.
+
+
+Mr. Kent was a very able magistrate. He had sat on the bench for many
+years and was considered a man of great legal attainments and skill. He
+very seldom erred in his judgment, and being gifted with a natural
+shrewdness, he saw the difference at once between a guilty and an
+innocent man.
+
+He rarely erred; long practice had made him an adept in reading faces.
+
+But on this morning, the fourteenth of May, he was puzzled. Many cases
+had been brought before him. Drunken men dismissed with a fine and a
+reprimand, thieves sentenced to weeks or months of imprisonment, wives
+with pale faces and bruised arms had given reluctant evidence against
+husbands who had promised to love and cherish them until death.
+
+It was a bright May morning, and the sun did his best to pour through
+the dusky windows of the police court; a faint beam fell on the stolid
+faces of the policemen and ushers of the court, the witnesses and the
+lookers-on; a faint beam that yet, perhaps, brought many messages of
+bright promise to those present.
+
+A little boy had been sent on an errand with sixpence and had stolen the
+money; with many sobs and tears he confessed that he had spent it in
+cakes. Mr. Kent looked at the tear-stained face; the untidy brown head
+scarcely reached to the table, and the good magistrate thought, with
+something like pain at his heart, of a fair-haired boy at home. So he
+spoke kindly to the poor, trembling prisoner, and while he strongly
+reprimanded, still encouraged him to better ways. The boy was removed,
+and then Mr. Kent was puzzled by the prisoner who took his place.
+
+A tall, handsome young man, apparently not more than twenty, with a
+clear-cut aristocratic face, and luminous dark gray eyes. A face that no
+one could look into without admiration--that irresistibly attracted man,
+woman and child. He was a gentleman--there could be no mistake about it.
+That clear-cut Norman face had descended to him from a long line of
+ancestors; the well-built, manly figure, with its peculiar easy grace
+and dignity told of ancient lineage and noble birth.
+
+His hands were white, slender and strong, with almond-shaped
+nails--hands that had never been soiled with labor, and surely never
+stained with crime.
+
+He carried his handsome head high; it was proudly set on a firm,
+graceful neck, and covered with clusters of dark hair. He would have
+looked in his place near the throne of a queen, or, on the back of a war
+horse, leading a forlorn hope; but no one could understand his being
+prisoner in a dock. Mr. Kent looked at him, wondering with what he was
+charged. Surely, with that noble face and gentlemanly bearing, he had
+never been guilty of a common assault. Magistrate as he was, Mr. Kent
+listened to the recital of the charge, with some curiosity.
+
+Jules St. Croix, Count of the French Empire, charged the prisoner at the
+bar with having broken into his rooms for the purpose of robbery. He had
+been discovered in the count's drawing-room, where he had forced open an
+ivory casket and stolen the contents, which were an ancient and valuable
+gold watch and a gold ring, also of considerable value. At the moment
+that the count, followed by his servant, entered the room, the prisoner
+had these articles in his hand. He dropped them immediately, but the
+count, hastily calling for the police, gave him in charge.
+
+There was a smell of burned paper in the room and it was nearly eleven
+at night.
+
+The magistrate asked if the prisoner had made any resistance. Policeman
+C. No. 14, answered, "No, he gave in at once; and came straight away."
+
+Mr. Kent asked again: "Was there anything in the casket beside the
+jewelry?"
+
+It seemed to be a very insignificant question, but the prisoner and the
+count looked steadfastly at each other and both answered: "No."
+
+There were two witnesses. Robert Bolton, the count's servant, and C. No.
+14, the policeman. The evidence of the servant was taken first. He said
+that the prisoner had called several times to see his master, always
+coming when the count was from home; that he had, before, made one or
+two efforts to get into the count's room, but that he, the servant, had
+always refused him permission.
+
+On this evening the count went out early, and Robert Bolton having some
+errands to do, followed his master. About ten o'clock the prisoner
+called at the house, No. 24 Cambridge Terrace, and asked to speak to
+Count St. Croix. The landlady of the house told him the count was from
+home; then the prisoner said:
+
+"I know. I will go to his room and wait there for him."
+
+The landlady, believing him to be a perfect gentleman, allowed him to
+go up to the count's room. Robert Bolton returned home just as his
+master was at the door; when the landlady told him a gentleman was
+waiting there, it flashed instantly into his mind there was something
+wrong. He hastily told his suspicions to the count and they ran upstairs
+together. Opening the door quickly, they found the prisoner with the
+casket in one hand and the watch in the other. There was an odor of
+burnt paper in the room.
+
+The count immediately opened the window and called for the police. C.
+No. 14 was just passing, and in marvelously quick time he ran upstairs.
+
+"This man has gotten into my room on false pretences," said the count.
+"He is a stranger to me. I give him in charge for breaking open my
+casket and stealing a watch and ring from it."
+
+"What did the prisoner say."
+
+"He pointed to the watch and ring, and said: 'There they are;' then he
+looked at the count with a smile."
+
+"Did he seem frightened?"
+
+"Not the least in the world," was the answer; "just the contrary."
+
+"What happened next?"
+
+"The prisoner told him he must consider himself a prisoner on the charge
+of stealing a watch. He laughed aloud and walked away."
+
+The landlady of the house, the policeman and the count all gave the same
+evidence. It seemed very clear against him.
+
+"What have you to say?" asked, the magistrate of the prisoner.
+
+He raised his luminous gray eyes.
+
+"Not one word," he replied, in a clear, refined voice.
+
+"What is your name? I see you have refused to give any."
+
+For the first time the prisoner's face flushed crimson, and the count
+smiled malignantly.
+
+"My name is--John Smith," he replied, and again the count smiled.
+
+"Your address?"
+
+He gave some number and street which every one knew to be false.
+
+"Your occupation?" asked the magistrate again.
+
+"I have none--that is, no settled occupation," he replied.
+
+"Have you no lawyer to defend you?" asked Mr. Kent.
+
+"I require none," said the prisoner; "I have no defense. All that Count
+Jules St. Croix says is true; he found me in his room with the open
+casket in my hand."
+
+"You had gone there for the purpose of robbery?"
+
+"I have not a word to answer."
+
+"You can surely give some account of your presence there?"
+
+The prisoner smiled again.
+
+"I refuse to do so," he replied, with great firmness, yet courtesy of
+manner.
+
+"Then I must commit you for trial," said the magistrate. "Have you no
+witnesses to bring forward in your own defense now, as to character--no
+referees?" he continued.
+
+"None," was the quiet reply.
+
+"I am sorry," said Mr. Kent; "to see one who is so evidently a
+gentleman and a man of education in such a position."
+
+But there was no shame in the handsome face; none in the proud eyes. He
+raised his head with haughty grace and made no reply.
+
+"I can take bail," said Mr. Kent, but the prisoner said, "I have none to
+offer."
+
+Then was the good magistrate puzzled. He had no resource but to commit
+the young man to take his trial at the Sessions. Yet looking at the
+clear, aristocratic face, and the firm, proud lips, he could have sworn
+that the prisoner was perfectly innocent of the theft.
+
+He read pride, honesty, loyalty and chivalry in the face, yet there was
+nothing left for him to do but to commit him.
+
+He looked very grave as he did so, and then John Smith was taken away by
+the policeman. As he left the dock he turned to his accuser, the Count
+St. Croix, who stood there with a dark frown on his face; he looked at
+him for one moment, then waved his hand, as one who had won a great
+victory.
+
+"I have conquered," he said, and the count's sallow face grew pale with
+rage,
+
+"Curse you," he said, between his teeth, "I should like to stand with my
+foot on your neck."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+The Sentence.
+
+
+John Smith--for the prisoner was known by no other name--lay in prison
+until the time for his trial. He had not long to wait, but he made no
+complaint. He seemed perfectly at his ease--much more so than was Mr.
+Kent. In vain the good magistrate said to himself that it was no
+business of his; that he had nothing whatever to do with the case, he
+had simply performed his duty--done what was required of him. Yet he
+could not feel satisfied; he was sure there was a mystery, and he longed
+to fathom it.
+
+He resolved to go and see the young man, and ask him more questions, to
+try to ascertain who he really was. He went to his cell and the prisoner
+looked at him in utter surprise.
+
+"I have come purposely," said Mr. Kent, "to see if I cannot induce you
+to tell the truth over this affair. I will call you John Smith, if you
+like, yet I am sure you are a gentleman; you will not deny that?"
+
+"I neither admit nor deny anything," was the smiling reply; "I have made
+up my mind that there will be a certain punishment, and I shall go
+through it like a brave man."
+
+"Have you well considered what degradation that punishment will bring
+upon you as long as you live?"
+
+His face flushed hotly.
+
+"Since you ask me," he answered, "I tell you frankly, no; I had not
+thought of that part of the business at all--it never even occurred to
+me; my thoughts were all otherwise engrossed."
+
+"You should take it into consideration," said the magistrate. "I know
+nothing of what your position in society may be, but remember, you
+voluntarily cut yourself off from all association with even respectable
+people; a man who has been in prison cannot expect the countenance or
+fellowship of his fellow-men."
+
+"I suppose you are right," replied the young man; "although, believe me,
+never a thought of this occurred to me."
+
+"Now, would it not be better to tell the truth? Have you done it for a
+wager? is it the trick of a foolish young man? or were you really
+tempted to steal the watch?"
+
+Something like a smile curved his handsome lips.
+
+"I cannot tell you," he replied. "I am deeply grateful for your kind
+interest--indeed, I shall never forget it; but I cannot, in return, tell
+you one word."
+
+"Then I can do nothing to help you?"
+
+"No," he answered slowly; "you could not help sending me for trial. Will
+you tell me what the probable result will be, supposing, as a matter of
+course, that I am found guilty?"
+
+"Most probably, six months imprisonment, without hard labor, if it be a
+first offence."
+
+"It is the first of its kind," was the smiling reply.
+
+"You will not let me help you, then, in any way?" said Mr. Kent.
+
+"There is nothing you can do for me," said the young man, gratefully.
+
+"If you take my advice," continued the magistrate, "you will send for
+some clever lawyer; tell him the truth, whatever it may be, and while
+preserving your incognito, he may be able to do something for you. I
+should certainly do so in your place."
+
+"I think not," he replied; "the less stir made about it the better.
+Surely in the crowd of a criminal court and in the prison dress, I shall
+escape recognition?"
+
+"An admission," thought the magistrate, "that he has concealed his
+identity."
+
+"I cannot tell; I think it doubtful."
+
+"Well, whatever comes, I shall always he grateful to you, Mr. Kent, for
+your interest in me."
+
+"I am sorry you will not trust me," said the magistrate, rising to leave
+the cell.
+
+"I am still more sorry that I cannot," was the reply, and then the
+prisoner was left alone.
+
+He did not look much like a thief; there was a light on his face such as
+one sees in the pictures of the martyrs, a clear fire in the gray eyes.
+
+"My ancestors have smiled with their heads on a block," he said.
+"Surely, with such a motive, I may bear six months of prison."
+
+The day of his trial came. The report of it in the papers read as
+follows:
+
+"John Smith, aged twenty, occupation unknown, was charged by Count Jules
+St. Croix with stealing from his room an ivory casket, containing a
+watch and an antique ring of great value. The prisoner, who refused to
+give any account of himself, pleaded guilty; he made no defence, and had
+retained no counsel. The judge made a few remarks to the effect that it
+was very hard to see a young man, evidently possessed of some education
+and refinement, in such a position, then sentenced him to six months'
+imprisonment without hard labor. Prisoner made no remark, and was then
+removed."
+
+The papers did not tell of a little incident that occurred, simply
+because the reporters did not know it. During the hearing of the case,
+which did not last long, one of the leading barristers, Mr. Macfarlane,
+sat with his eyes riveted on the prisoner's face, his own growing very
+pale and anxious; then he wrote a little note, which he dispatched by a
+messenger, who soon returned, accompanied by Mr. Forster, one of the
+most celebrated lawyers in Lincoln's Inn.
+
+He spoke a few words to Mr. Macfarlane.
+
+"Nonsense!" he said; "the idea is incredible, impossible, even. What can
+have made you think of such a thing?"
+
+"Stand here in my place; you cannot see over all those heads. Now look
+well at him. Am I right or wrong?"
+
+A strange gray look came over Mr. Forster's face.
+
+"I--I believe you are right," he said. "My God! what can this mean?"
+
+"Look now! his face is turned this way! Look!" cried Mr. Macfarlane,
+eagerly.
+
+"It is he!" cried the lawyer, and he stood like one turned to stone,
+then recovering himself, he said quickly:
+
+"Why is he here? What is he charged with?"
+
+Mr. Macfarlane whispered into the lawyer's ear:
+
+"With stealing a watch and ring from the room of Count Jules St. Croix."
+
+"Absurd!" was the reply, in accents of the deepest contempt; "what
+idiotic nonsense! He steal a watch! I could believe myself mad or
+dreaming."
+
+"Then," said Mr. Macfarlane. "he has pleaded guilty; he has made no
+defence, engaged no counsel."
+
+"The boy is mad! completely mad!" cried the lawyer.
+
+"Hush!" said the barrister; "the judge is speaking."
+
+Mr. Forster stood in a most impatient mood, while the grave, clear voice
+of the judge sentenced the prisoner. Then he turned to the barrister
+abruptly.
+
+"I tell you," he cried, "the boy is mad! Steal a watch! Why, he could
+buy one-half the watches in London if he liked. I must see him. Come
+this way."
+
+"No," said Mr. Macfarlane, "he evidently does not wish to be known. I
+shall not go near him."
+
+"If he got into trouble, why in the world did he not send for me or for
+some one else?" said the lawyer to himself. "It must be a young man's
+frolic, a wager, a bet. He has spirit enough for anything. He never
+could have been such a mad fool as to wreck his life for a paltry
+watch."
+
+Mr. Forster went to the room, where with other prisoners, John Smith
+stood, awaiting his removal in the prison van. He went up to him and
+touched him on the shoulder.
+
+"Is it really you?" he cried, and the luminous gray eyes smiled into
+his.
+
+"Ah! Forster, I am sorry to see you. What has brought you here?"
+
+"It is you," said the lawyer. "I was in hopes that my senses deceived
+me."
+
+"I hope you will keep the fact of having seen me here a profound
+secret."
+
+"But in the name of heaven, what does it mean?" cried Mr. Forster. "You
+know you have not attempted to steal a watch. Pardon me, but how dare
+you plead guilty? You will cover yourself with disgrace and infamy. You
+will break your mother's heart. You will be utterly ruined for life."
+
+"My dear Forster, no one knows of my being here, and no one need know
+except yourself."
+
+"You are mistaken; you have been recognized. I was sent for to identify
+you."
+
+Then the proud face did grow pale, but the proud light did not die out
+of the gray eyes.
+
+"I am sorry for it, but I cannot help it. I must 'dree my weird.'"
+
+Mr. Forster stood looking at him like one stupefied.
+
+"If the sun had fallen from the heavens," he said, "it would not have
+surprised me more. Surely, surely you are going to trust me and tell me
+what this means?"
+
+"I cannot. Go on with everything just the same. Tell my mother I have
+gone abroad for six months, and if you value my name, keep my secret
+from spreading, if you can."
+
+And then a rough voice called John Smith to the prison van.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+The Papers Again.
+
+
+Mr. Foster went home in a terrible rage. His clerks could not imagine
+what had happened. He looked pale, worried, anxious and miserable. "I
+should not think," he said to himself, "that such a thing ever happened
+in the world before." His clients thought him bad tempered; he had the
+air of a man with whom everything had gone wrong--out of sorts with all
+the world.
+
+"The man is mad," he said to himself, with a shrug of his shoulders;
+"neither more nor less than mad to fling away his life and disgrace his
+name. It is useless to think it will never be known; those stupid papers
+are sure to get hold of it, and then there is little chance of secrecy."
+
+He went about his work with a very unsettled, wretched expression on his
+shrewd face. Something or other had evidently disturbed him very much.
+While on his part John Smith, with the same light in his face and the
+same fire in his eyes, went off in the prison van.
+
+He heard very little of what was going on around him. He seemed to be
+quite apart in some dreamland, some world of his own. When the coarse
+suit of prison clothes was brought to him, instead of the disgust the
+attendants expected to see, there came over his face a smile. To himself
+he said: "I could almost kiss them for her sweet sake."
+
+"That man is no thief," said one of the warders. "I do not care if they
+did catch him with the watch in his hand, he is no thief! I know the
+stamp!"
+
+How he passed that first day and night was best known to himself. The
+jailer who brought his breakfast the next morning said, "You look
+tired."
+
+He smiled and said to himself, "I would have gone to death for her sweet
+sake! This will be easy to bear."
+
+When that same morning dawned Mr. Forster was all impatience for his
+newspaper. Twice he rang the bell and asked if it had come, and when the
+servant brought it up he looked at it eagerly.
+
+"Give it to me quickly," he said. Then he opened it, and was soon
+engrossed in the contents. Suddenly he flung it down, and almost stamped
+upon it in his rage.
+
+"I knew it would be so! Now it will be blazoned all over England! What
+can have possessed him?"
+
+The paragraph that excited his attention and anger ran as follows:
+
+"We are informed on good authority that the John Smith tried yesterday
+on the charge of stealing a watch is no less a person than Basil
+Carruthers, Esquire, the owner of Ulverston Priory, and head of one of
+the oldest families in England."
+
+"What can I do?" cried Mr. Forster; "it will break his mother's heart;
+she can never forget it. He is ruined for life. For a lawyer, I am
+strangely unwilling to tell a lie; but it must be done! He must be saved
+at any price!" He went to his desk and wrote the following note:
+
+     "To the Editor of 'The Times':
+
+     "Sir: I beg to call your attention to a paragraph that appears in
+     'The Times' of today stating that a man, tried under the name of
+     John Smith for stealing a watch, is no less a person than Basil
+     Carruthers, Esq., of Ulverston Priory. As the solicitor of that
+     family, and manager of the Ulverston property, I beg to contradict
+     it. Mr. Carruthers, himself, informed me of his intention to go
+     abroad. Without doubt his indignant denial will follow mine. I am,
+     sir, etc.,
+
+     "Herbert Forster."
+
+"That may help him," he said. "I do not like doing it, but I cannot see
+my old friend's son perish without trying to save him. I may fail, but I
+must try. Perhaps my lie may be blotted out, like Uncle Toby's oath. If
+I can persuade him to send a denial, and date it Paris or Vienna, he
+will be saved."
+
+Mr. Forster lost no time in applying for an order to see the prisoner.
+It was granted at once.
+
+Basil Carruthers--we may use his right name now--looked up in surprise
+when Mr. Forster, with the paper in his hand, entered the cell.
+
+"Back again?" he said.
+
+"Yes; it is just as I expected; the papers have got hold of your name,
+and there is a grand expose."
+
+Basil held out his hand and read the paragraph.
+
+"It is enough to make your father rise up from his grave," said the
+lawyer; "I cannot understand what madness, what infatuation, has come
+over you, to drag such a proud name as yours through the dust."
+
+"So it is known," said Basil, slowly. "Well, I cannot help it."
+
+"I have done my best," said Mr. Forster. "I have never yet asked you if
+you stole the watch--the idea is too absurd."
+
+"They are so far right that I was found in the room; nothing else
+matters."
+
+"I can only imagine that the same folly which has brought you here will
+keep you here," said Mr. Forster. "The only thing to be done is to send
+a denial to the papers. If you will write one, I will go to Paris myself
+to post it."
+
+Basil Carruthers laughed contemptuously.
+
+"I shield myself behind a lie!" he said. "Never!"
+
+"You are too late," replied Mr. Forster; "I have already written, and
+sent, a very indignant denial, saying you have gone abroad."
+
+Basil's face grew pale, as it had not done during that trial; then an
+angry fire flashed from his eyes.
+
+"And you have dared to do this?" he cried. "You have dared to publish a
+lie to screen a Carruthers?"
+
+"I would have dared a great deal more to have saved you from public
+ignominy," said Mr. Forster.
+
+"Do not apply that word to me!" said Basil, angrily.
+
+"If I do not, every one else will. Your position is ignominious, Mr.
+Carruthers; the paltry crime you are charged with is the same; and the
+name that for centuries has been honored in England will be low in the
+dust, sir. I would rather have been dead than have seen such a day."
+
+The handsome young face changed slightly; evidently these thoughts had
+not occurred to him; he seemed to seek solace from some inward source of
+comfort of which the lawyer knew nothing.
+
+"I must bear it," he said, unflinchingly.
+
+"There is but one thing you can do," said Mr. Forster; "only one means
+of escape--write a letter at once containing a most indignant denial of
+the identity. I will go myself purposely to Paris and post it there."
+
+"My dear Forster," said the young man with a smile of languid contempt,
+"I would not ransom my life, even, with a lie!"
+
+"In my opinion," said the lawyer, bluntly, "you have done worse in
+pleading guilty--you have acted a lie, at least."
+
+"I know my own motive. I am the best judge of my own actions."
+
+"Certainly," was the sarcastic reply. "I should not think any young man
+of your prospects was ever in such a position before."
+
+"Perhaps, as I said before, no man ever had the same motive," and a look
+of heroism and high resolve came over his face which astonished the
+lawyer.
+
+"In the name of your dead father," he said, "who held the honor of his
+house so dear, I pray of you to write that letter!"
+
+"Not to save my head from the block!" he replied. "I am here, and I must
+bear all that follows. I had hoped to preserve my incognito. If I
+cannot, well, I must bear the shame."
+
+"And your mother?" asked the lawyer.
+
+"My poor mother! Perhaps, after all, you had better go down to Ulverston
+and tell her! She will begin to wonder where I am. Besides, the London
+house must be attended to."
+
+"If I know Lady Carruthers rightly," said the lawyer, "she will never
+get over the blow."
+
+"Tell her that I am here, and why, but tell her also that I refuse to
+give an explanation to any human being. Tell her the honor of the
+Carruthers seals my lips; try to comfort her if she seems distressed; do
+all she wishes you."
+
+"How am I to comfort a mother whose eldest and only son has thrown all
+prudence to the wind; who has disgraced himself so far as to stand in a
+felon's dock; who has wantonly laid his life bare and waste--for what?"
+
+A strange smile came over the young face.
+
+"Ah! for what! I know; no one else does. There is a reward, and it
+satisfies me."
+
+"If ever a Carruthers went mad," said Mr. Forster, angrily, "I should
+say you were mad now!"
+
+Basil paid no heed to the remark.
+
+"The only thing I can do," he said, "I will do. I will go to Vienna as
+soon as I leave here. I will not remain in London one-half hour."
+
+"I fear your compliance will be too late then," he said. "I must leave
+you, if I go to Ulverston this evening. I have several matters that I
+must attend to. Will any persuasion of mine induce you to alter your
+mind?"
+
+"No; though I thank you for your interest."
+
+And the lawyer left the young man's cell with something like a moan upon
+his lips.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+Ulverston Priory.
+
+
+During his walk from the prison to his office, Mr. Forster was stopped
+several times.
+
+"Is this rumor about young Carruthers true?" asked Sir James Hamlyn,
+anxiously.
+
+"No," replied the little lawyer, stoutly, "the paragraph is a joke, and
+if we can find out the author of it, he will be punished."
+
+"Serve him right. I told Lady Hamlyn there was some absurd mistake. Very
+glad to hear it. Good morning."
+
+"Mr. Forster, stop one moment!" cried Major Every; "surely this tale of
+Carruthers stealing a watch is all false?"
+
+"False as the foul fiend himself," said the little man, in a rage.
+
+"I knew it--I said so. Young men with twenty thousand a year do not
+steal. A likely story! What does it mean, then?"
+
+"Some one who owes him an ill-turn has played this sorry jest upon him;
+but we shall pay him."
+
+"He deserves transportation. I do not know a nobler young fellow in all
+the world than Basil Carruthers." A fashionable carriage was standing at
+his office door when he reached it.
+
+"The Countess of Northdown waiting to see you, sir," said the clerk.
+
+Entering his private room he saw a lovely lady, fashionably attired, who
+greeted him with exquisite grace. Her face was very pale and her lips
+quivered as she spoke to him.
+
+"Good morning, Mr. Forster. You will be surprised to see me, but knowing
+you are the family solicitor, I called to ask you if this shocking story
+about Mr. Carruthers is true."
+
+"Heaven have mercy on me this day," thought the lawyer, "my soul is
+steeped in lies."
+
+"Certainly not, Lady Northdown. Mr. Carruthers is abroad. The fact of
+the matter is, the prisoner resembles him, as a vile caricature does, at
+times, resemble the original, and some would-be wag who saw it, thought
+the writing of this absurd paragraph a great joke."
+
+"He deserves shooting," said my lady, angrily.
+
+"That may be his fate, when Mr. Carruthers catches him," was the grim
+reply.
+
+"I told Lord Northdown it was all nonsense," she continued. "I am much
+obliged to you for your kindness, Mr. Forster."
+
+There was a rustle of silken robes, a stirring of sweet perfume, and
+then Lady Northdown was gone, only to be succeeded by another and
+another, until the lawyer gave himself up for lost on account of the
+many falsehoods he had told.
+
+"Tomorrow my contradiction will set all this straight," he thought;
+"especially if it be followed by a letter from my lady, and I must
+compel her to write. I would as soon try to drive wild oxen as to
+persuade a Carruthers."
+
+He was not able to start for Ulverston until the end of the afternoon.
+It was full two hours' ride by rail from London, and all the way there
+the lawyer was worrying himself with conjectures, and trying to solve
+what he thought honestly the greatest mystery he had ever known.
+
+It was six o'clock on a bright May evening when he reached Ulverston.
+
+He ordered a fly, and drove at once to the Priory. More than half that
+busy town of Rutsford belonged to the Carruthers. They were lords of the
+manor, masters of the soil. To them belonged also the fertile lands, the
+profitable farms, the hop gardens, and broad meadows that stretched
+between Rutsford and the Priory.
+
+As the lawyer drove through this rich inheritance, his wonder increased.
+
+What could possess any man blessed with such a birthright to place
+himself in so false and degraded a position?
+
+Then the carriage entered the Ulverston woods, said by connoisseurs to
+be the finest and most picturesque in England. Such a glorious sight on
+this May evening as made the lawyer's heart beat, though many years had
+passed since the fountain of poetry flowed for him. The hawthorn and
+chestnut trees were all in flower; the maple and ash wore their most
+luxuriant foliage. The grand old oaks in their leafy boughs concealed
+myriads of singing birds; underneath the shade of the trees, the blue
+hyacinths stretched out like the waves of the azure sea, the violets hid
+their modest heads, great golden primroses shone like stars from the
+midst of green leaves. The air was sweet and warm; the music of the
+birds and the whispers of the wind were full of melody.
+
+"A man possessed of all this," thought Mr. Forster again; "he must be
+mad."
+
+Then the carriage stopped before the grand entrance of one of the most
+magnificent mansions in England. Ulverston Priory--whose beauty has been
+described, in prose and in verse, by pens more eloquent than mine.
+
+"Is Lady Carruthers at home?" asked Mr. Forster of the stately old
+butler.
+
+"My lady is at home, sir."
+
+"Will you ask if it is convenient for me to see her? I have come hastily
+from London on important business."
+
+With all the solemnity an old family retainer displays on such
+occasions, the butler led the way to the library.
+
+"I will send your message to my lady at once, sir."
+
+He went away and soon returned.
+
+"My lady is dressing, but she will be with you in a few minutes." He
+placed a decanter of the famous Ulverston sherry on the table, and
+withdrew. Mr. Forster gladly helped himself to a glass. "I would take
+that or anything else to give me courage," he said to himself. "How am I
+to tell her? I know not."
+
+In a quarter of an hour the door opened, and a stately lady,
+magnificently dressed, entered the room. She was very dignified, of
+queenly presence and bearing, with the remains of great beauty in her
+face.
+
+She bowed most courteously to the lawyer, and held out her white,
+jeweled hand.
+
+"Good evening, Mr. Forster," she said; "your visit has taken me by
+surprise. You are well. I hope?"
+
+"Quite well, Lady Carruthers, myself. Quite well, I thank you."
+
+But his manner was so confused, his face so flushed, that the stately
+lady looked at him in wonder.
+
+"And my son, Mr. Forster! Have you seen him lately? Have you left him
+well?"
+
+"He was in perfect health, Lady Carruthers, when I saw him last,"
+replied the lawyer, stiffly.
+
+"I am glad of it. I have no wish to complain, but I have not heard from
+my son lately. He has not time to write, I suppose."
+
+"There will be no use in beating about the bush," the lawyer thought. "I
+had better speak plainly at once."
+
+"Lady Carruthers," he said, "have you seen today's 'Times'?"
+
+"No," she replied; "I have been so deeply engaged with visitors, I have
+really not opened it."
+
+"Then I must ask you to prepare yourself for something very
+disagreeable. I wish I knew how to save you from the knowledge--but I do
+not."
+
+The diamond necklace rose and fell as though she breathed heavily; her
+face grew quite white.
+
+"Does it concern my son, Mr. Carruthers?" she asked.
+
+"Alas, that I must say yes, Lady Carruthers," he answered; "I am not a
+man of sentiment, but I would give many years of my life to spare you
+this pain."
+
+"Is he dead?" she asked, hoarsely.
+
+"No, it is not so bad as that," he replied.
+
+"Not death; and I know it is not disgrace. I can bear what you have to
+tell me, Mr. Forster."
+
+He took both papers from his pocket and laid them before her.
+
+"Read this paragraph first," he said; "and then this."
+
+She did as he wished. When she read the second, her proud face flushed,
+and she drew her figure to its full height.
+
+"What does this mean?" she said, contemptuously. "My son, Mr.
+Carruthers, charged with stealing a watch? What does it mean, Mr.
+Forster?"
+
+"Lady Carruthers," said the lawyer, "it is true. I was in court when
+your son, under the name of John Smith, pleaded guilty to the charge of
+getting in the room belonging to Count Jules St. Croix, and I, myself,
+heard him sentenced to six months' imprisonment."
+
+She sat for some minutes, silent, mute and motionless. Then in a low
+voice she asked: "Is he mad?"
+
+"That was my first thought. It is some weeks since I had seen him, and
+yesterday morning a note was brought to my office, from a gentleman in
+court, telling me your son was in the dock. I hastened there and found
+it true. You may imagine how quickly I followed him and implored of him
+to tell me the mystery, for mystery I feel sure there is. Instead of
+looking ashamed of himself and miserable, he had a light in his face
+that puzzled me. I blamed him, told him the consequences--how his life
+would be useless to him after this, but he only smiled; my words made no
+impression on him; he evidently derived comfort and support from some
+source known to himself and no others."
+
+"And is it possible?" asked Lady Carruthers, with ghastly face; "does he
+lie in prison now?"
+
+"He does indeed, and there he must remain until the six months are
+ended."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+Lady Carruthers.
+
+
+My lady rose from her seat with an air of almost tragical dignity.
+
+"My son in prison!" she cried; "I cannot believe it. What has come over
+him? Can you explain the mystery to me, Mr. Forster?"
+
+"I cannot--the only thing that occurs to me is that he has gone to this
+count's room for some purpose that he will confide to no one, and that
+he has taken the watch in his hands and was discovered with it. He asked
+me to tell you that the honor of the Carruthers sealed his lips."
+
+"Did he say that--my Basil, Mr. Forster? If that be the case, rest
+assured--although I blush to say it--there is a woman in it. I can
+imagine Basil capable of suffering anything from a mistaken motive of
+chivalry. Do you know with whom Mr. Carruthers has chiefly associated
+since he has been in town?"
+
+"I do not. I know that he has been in a very fast and fashionable set;
+he told me as much; also that he has spent a good deal of money. One
+check for three thousand pounds vanished in a day, and he gave no
+account of it."
+
+"Three thousand pounds!" cried Lady Carruthers; "yet he neither drank,
+betted nor gambled."
+
+"No," said the lawyer; "Mr. Carruthers told me he had never touched a
+card and never would. I know he did not care for betting."
+
+The proud, anxious mother raised her eyes to the lawyer's face. "How,
+then, do you think he has got through it?"
+
+"I cannot tell. You must pardon me, my lady, if I remind you that
+although I am family solicitor, agent and manager of the property, I am
+not the guardian of your son."
+
+"I know," she said, clasping her hands. "I little thought he would ever
+need a guardian; he seemed all that was honorable and upright. I cannot
+imagine what has changed him. I regret so bitterly that I let him go to
+London alone."
+
+"It is a terrible position," said the lawyer; "the only thing is to
+clear him as much as we can. The moment I read this I wrote an answer
+and sent it to the 'Times' to the effect that Mr. Carruthers had gone
+abroad."
+
+A slight frown came over the delicate face.
+
+"I implored Mr. Carruthers to write an indignant denial, and to let me
+go to Paris to post it, but he would not hear of such a thing; the very
+idea seemed offensive to him. I hope, Lady Carruthers, to induce you to
+write such a letter."
+
+"What kind of a letter?" she asked.
+
+"One to the editor of the 'Times' denying the report, and saying that
+your son has gone abroad."
+
+"But that would be grossly untrue," she said.
+
+"Yes, yes! I know that, still if we can save him, we should."
+
+"I will try any honorable means you choose to suggest," she replied;
+"but not even to save my son from death could I consent to write or
+publish a lie."
+
+"Of course you know best, Lady Carruthers," said the lawyer, with a
+shrug of the shoulders. "Words are but words, and very few of them might
+have saved your son from public shame."
+
+"I have never yet believed in the success of a lie," said her ladyship.
+
+"Pardon me," said Mr. Forster, grimly, "then you have forgotten the
+pages of history. I came down purposely to persuade your ladyship to do
+this. I am well aware that at first sight it seems contrary to all one's
+notions of truth and honor, but there is so much at stake. My denial,
+couched in strong terms, will appear tomorrow. If it were succeeded by a
+letter from your ladyship, written in the same strain, people would
+laugh and believe that it was a great mistake. I had so many inquiries
+this morning before I left London, and I gave the same answer to all,
+that it was the sorry jest of an evil-disposed person. If your ladyship
+would but second my efforts, all would be well; we could get him through
+in safety."
+
+But Lady Carruthers had risen from her seat and stood with her proud
+figure drawn to its utmost height.
+
+"I will do anything you propose, save tell a lie. If my son can be
+rescued by no other means, he must bear his punishment."
+
+"Then my journey is in vain," said Mr. Forster. "I may return to London
+at once."
+
+"No," said Lady Carruthers; "I cannot allow you to return after that
+long journey--you must stay and dine with us. Pardon me," she said,
+seeing that he looked hurt and uncomfortable. "I have spoken strongly,
+but truth has always been far dearer to me than life. I do full justice
+to your motives. I appreciate your kindness, but in this manner I cannot
+help you. Stay and take dinner with us; then we can consult as to what
+is best to be done."
+
+"May I give your ladyship one piece of advice?" said the lawyer. "Have
+the papers--yesterday's and today's--destroyed, so that no rumor of
+anything amiss can reach your servants; also say nothing of it--it may
+possibly die away, as some rumors do. Your visitors and friends will not
+broach such a subject to you, I am sure."
+
+"I shall not mention it," she replied; "although Marion will be sure to
+suspect something wrong." At that moment the last dressing-bell rang.
+
+"You will join us in a few minutes," said Lady Carruthers; "never mind
+your traveling-dress; Miss Hautville and I are quite alone."
+
+No one who saw Lady Carruthers leave the library with stately step and
+dignified air, would have believed that she had received a blow which
+laid her life and all her hopes in ruins--as the lightning smites the
+lofty oak. She went back to her sumptuous bedroom that she had left half
+an hour ago, so calm and serene, so unconscious of coming evil. Looking
+in the mirror, she saw her face was deadly pale--there was no trace of
+color left on it, and deep lines had come on her brow that had been so
+calm.
+
+"It will not do to look so pale," said Lady Carruthers; and from one of
+the mysterious little drawers she took a small powder puff that soon
+remedied the evil.
+
+Then she went to the dining-room. Miss Hautville and Mr. Forster were
+talking together like old acquaintances, and the three sat down to
+dinner together.
+
+Mr. Forster was, as he himself often said, a grim old lawyer, without
+any poetry or romance, but even he could not sit opposite the pale, pure
+loveliness of Marion Hautville unmoved; there was something about her
+that reminded one irresistibly of starlight, delicate, graceful, holy
+veiled loveliness. She was slender and graceful, with a figure that was
+charming now, but that promised, in years to come, to be superb; the
+same promise of magnificent womanhood was in the lovely delicate face.
+The pure profile, the delicate brows, the shining hair, braided Madonna
+fashion, were all beautiful, but looking at her, one realized there was
+greater beauty to come.
+
+She looked across the table with a smile.
+
+"And now, Mr. Forster, you have told me how London looks; tell me
+something about my cousin, Mr. Carruthers."
+
+He made some indifferent answer, and as he did so, he thought to
+himself:
+
+"Can it be possible, that with a chance of winning this lovely girl--one
+of the richest heiresses in London--that Basil Carruthers has given his
+heart to some worthless creature, who has spent his money and helped him
+to prison?"
+
+A question that, if our readers will kindly follow us, we will answer in
+the succeeding chapters.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+Youth Full of Beauty and Promise.
+
+
+There was no man of greater note in England than the late Royston
+Carruthers, Esq., Lord of the Manor of Rutsford. He was one of the
+ablest statesmen and finest orators in England. He had been returned for
+the Borough of Rutsford for many years, without opposition. To hear him
+make a speech was a decided treat; a handsome man of stately presence,
+he invested every word with new dignity. The grand volume of sound
+rolled on in one continuous stream; the ideas he expressed were noble,
+the sentiments patriotic and exalted; his gestures were full of
+animation and grace.
+
+Royston Carruthers had done great service to his country in his time. He
+had advocated several important measures; his eloquence had facilitated
+the introduction of several bills; his country thought well of him, and
+for a wonder, was grateful to him.
+
+Government offered him the title of Baron Rutsford of Rutsford, and he
+had declined it, saying that his ancestors had for years asked no higher
+title than that of Lord of the Manor, and he valued his name--Carruthers
+of Ulverston--too highly to ever exchange it for another.
+
+In the very pride and zenith of his prosperity he married the Lady
+Hildegarde Blenholme, the only daughter of the Duke of Blenholme. She
+was a very beautiful and accomplished woman--proud to a fault, but
+generous and noble in disposition. They had one child, Basil, and while
+he was yet a boy, his father died, worn out with work and over-exertion.
+He left his wife, Lady Hildegarde Carruthers, sole guardian of the boy,
+expressing a wish that she should bring him up to resemble herself in
+mind and disposition as far as it was possible.
+
+Three years after the great statesman's death, a cousin of Lady
+Hildegarde died, leaving her only child, Marion Hautville, under the
+sole care and guardianship of the mistress of Ulverston Priory.
+
+"Bring her up as you would a daughter of your own," wrote the dying
+mother. "She has a large fortune--save her from fortune-hunters."
+
+And Lady Carruthers scrupulously carried out her kinswoman's wish. She
+took the girl to her own home, Ulverston Priory; she superintended her
+education; she brought her up in simple, refined habits--succeeded in
+making of her a perfect lady and a noble woman.
+
+Then the dearest wish of her heart was to see her son, the heir to
+Ulverston, marry Marion Hautville, one of the loveliest girls and
+wealthiest heiresses in England. She was far too wise ever to express
+such a wish openly, none the less it was deeply engraven on her heart.
+They were warmly attached to each other and Lady Carruthers fancied that
+she already saw some signs of liking on the part of Marion for Basil.
+
+While Miss Hautville pursued her quiet, ordinary course of education
+under Lady Carruthers' roof, Basil went through Eton and Oxford; at both
+places he gained high honors and at both places he succeeded in puzzling
+his tutors and masters. He was of such a peculiar disposition;
+chivalrous, romantic, brave, yet with something about him--they could
+not define what, but quite unlike other boys.
+
+He did not evince any taste for any particular branch of study; he had
+no inclination for the navy, for serving his country as his father had
+done before him. In fact, it was difficult to tell in what direction his
+taste really lay. Still, he left college with high honors, and his
+masters prophesied great things for him.
+
+"He will make himself famous some day," they wrote to his anxious
+mother. "In the mean time, let him see something of the world, and you
+will know in what direction his talent lies."
+
+So, crowded with honors, he came home to Ulverston. He was eighteen then
+and one of the handsomest young men England could boast. No barber's
+beauty; strong, comely, of noble bearing, with a face that had come to
+him from the crusaders of old.
+
+Then Lady Hildegarde set herself to work to discover what manner of man
+her son was. She was puzzled; he was brave, generous, full of high
+spirits, truthful, even to bluntness. She could not discover any grave
+fault in him. She thanked God he had no vices, no mean faults, no
+contemptible failings.
+
+"Basil," she said to him, one evening, as the three sat around the
+drawing-room fire. "Confess now, do you not like and admire the olden
+times better than these?"
+
+"Yes," he replied; "I always did."
+
+"I knew it," said Lady Hildegarde; "I understand now what has always
+puzzled everyone who has had the care of you. You were born two hundred
+years too late; the ancient days of knight errantry and chivalry would
+have suited you better than these."
+
+"It is your fault, mother," he replied. "When I was only twelve years
+old, you gave me a beautiful edition of Froissart's Chronicles, and
+everything else has seemed dull and tame to me since."
+
+"I thought as much," she said, quietly; "you make the same mistake
+others have made before you; you live in the past, not in the present."
+
+"You are right, mother; in these days, there seems to me nothing to do."
+
+"Your father thought differently," she said; "he died from overwork."
+
+"Ah! my dear father was a genius," said the young man, thoughtfully, and
+for some minutes there was silence between them.
+
+"I can understand you," said Lady Hildegarde, with a smile; "you would
+like to have been a knight, always looking out for some romantic
+adventure; you would have fought giants, released distressed
+princesses."
+
+"Overthrown all wrong and upheld all right," he said; "that would have
+been my vocation."
+
+Lady Hildegarde went over to him and laid her hand on his head. "My
+dearest boy, you are young yet, but will live to see that there is as
+much to be done in the way of redressing wrong now as there was in the
+days when knights rode forth to do battle for lady fair."
+
+"I want some romantic adventure," he said; "I cannot see much in the
+plain, common ways of man. I should like to do something that would make
+me a hero at once, something brave and glorious."
+
+"My dear boy," she said; "God grant you may learn to distinguish true
+from false, true romance from mere sentiment, true gold from mere
+glitter."
+
+He looked so eager, so handsome, she kissed him with passionate love.
+
+"I should like to have been one of King Arthur's knights," he said,
+musingly.
+
+"My dear Basil," said his mother; "your mind is chaos. I tell you there
+are giants to be fought, hydra-headed ones--the giants of ignorance, of
+wickedness, of injustice, and they call for a sharper, keener sword than
+that wielded by the knights of old."
+
+And there came into her heart a great fear lest her boy, who had too
+much imagination, too much ideality, would waste his life in dreams.
+
+"I will tell you, Basil," said Marion Hautville; "what I call a great
+hero. The man who does his duty perfectly in the state of life in which
+God has placed him."
+
+"We all do that," replied Basil.
+
+"Indeed we do not--you do not, to begin with. You ought now, instead of
+dreaming about Froissart and his barbaric times, you ought to be
+studying hard how to make a good master of this large estate--how to
+employ the vast wealth given to you--how best to serve your God, your
+country and those who will depend upon you."
+
+"Solomon in petticoats!" cried Basil, gaily, and Marion joined in his
+laugh.
+
+That conversation gave Lady Carruthers many uneasy moments. She
+understood so well the dreamy, yet ardent, romantic temperament of the
+boy.
+
+"What shall I make of him?" she said. "Will he ever learn to live
+contentedly here at Ulverston, doing his duty, as Marion says, to God
+and man? My poor Basil, he lives too late!"
+
+She asked advice from those best fitted to give it. One and all said the
+same thing; there would be nothing so useful for him as a tour on the
+Continent, seeing plenty of the world and going into society.
+
+So Lady Carruthers, who loved home very dearly, gave up its peaceful
+tranquillity, and went with Basil and Miss Hautville to Paris, where
+they remained some months until they saw all that was most brilliant in
+that brilliant capital; from there to Berlin; then on to Vienna, and
+Basil lost much of his dreamy nature.
+
+He was eager, ardent, impetuous, longing, as is the fashion of young
+men, to do brave deeds, to be a great hero, and not in the least knowing
+what to do.
+
+He was just twenty when they returned home, at the commencement of the
+year; Lady Carruthers, worn out with travel and excitement, longing for
+rest. There was more to be done--her son had been presented at most of
+the courts of Europe; he must attend the first levees held in London
+this season.
+
+The Carruthers had a magnificent mansion in Belgravia. Miss Hautville
+begged for one year more of seclusion and privacy, so that Lady
+Hildegarde and her son went to London alone. She remained there for a
+week, and then, finding her son afloat in London society, she returned
+to Ulverston.
+
+And Basil Carruthers, the dreamy, ardent, romantic boy, remained in
+London alone.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+A Modern Bayard.
+
+
+Perhaps Lady Carruthers never did a more unwise thing than when she left
+her son, with his peculiar temperament and notions, to go through a
+London season alone. She honestly believed herself to be doing right.
+She was ill and unable to bear the whirl of fashion and gaiety. She
+could not withdraw him from town to spend the gayest month of the year
+in seclusion.
+
+"Leave him to me, Hildegarde," said her cousin, Colonel Mostyn. "I will
+pilot him safely through the rocks and deep waters; nothing makes a man
+as self-reliant as feeling that he is trusted entirely."
+
+And knowing that Colonel Mostyn was an elderly man, who knew about as
+much as there was to know of life in all its phases, Lady Hildegarde had
+no scruples.
+
+The colonel and the young squire were most luxuriously established at
+Roche House, the Carruthers' family mansion in Belgravia. Lady
+Hildegarde made every arrangement for keeping up the establishment in
+all bachelor's comforts. There was an excellent housekeeper, one who had
+been at Ulverston Priory for many years.
+
+"You will be able to give some good dinner-parties," she said to her
+son; "bachelor dinners--bien entender--for Mrs. Richards is an excellent
+housekeeper."
+
+Assured and satisfied that all would go well, she left London. She
+hesitated as to whether she should give her son any warning about love
+or marriage, then decided that it would be quite useless.
+
+"The boy is naturally so fastidious and refined," she thought; "he will
+never love beneath him. He will see no one so nice as Marion."
+
+So Lady Hildegarde Carruthers went to her stately home, little dreaming
+of the fatal news that was to follow her.
+
+Basil cared little for the fashions and frivolities of the day; Colonel
+Mostyn tried to laugh him out of his romantic and chivalrous ideas.
+
+"You are behind the age, Basil--quite unfit for it," he would say to
+him. "Chevalier Bayard would not be appreciated in these times."
+
+He listened with a smile on his face, while the young man talked of
+something to do--some grand action to fill up his life, some heroic deed
+with which to crown himself.
+
+"Utopian, Basil--all those are Utopian ideas. Progress is the order of
+the day."
+
+"Is there nothing?" asked Basil, "no way in which a man may distinguish
+himself after the fashion of the heroes of old?"
+
+The colonel smiled sarcastically.
+
+"My dear boy," he said, "between ourselves, some of those heroes of
+yours were unmitigated ruffians, I hardly like to give utterance to such
+a sentiment, yet I believe it. You cannot defend a bridge after the
+fashion of Horatius--you cannot conquer worlds like Alexander. I fancy
+you will have to be content with being one of the best lords of the
+manor Rutsford has ever known."
+
+"You are sentimental, Basil," he said to him one morning, "but not
+practical. A man is nothing unless he is practical. Why not give up all
+these foolish notions of being a great hero? Go down to Ulverston,
+build schools, almhouses, mechanics' institutes and all that kind of
+thing. Marry and bring up your family to fear God and serve the queen.
+One ounce of such practice is worth all the theory in the world."
+
+But Basil could not see it--he longed for the unattainable, the ideal.
+What lay plainly before him was a matter of great indifference to him.
+
+Colonel Mostyn, the keen, cynical man of the world, was, perhaps, the
+best companion he could have had. But the colonel had many anxious
+thoughts over him. At last an idea struck him.
+
+"The finest thing that could happen to Basil would be a very decided
+flirtation with a beautiful, worldly woman, who would laugh him out of
+these fantastic ideas and make a modern man of him."
+
+So thought the colonel, and so has thought many a one before him, little
+dreaming of the danger of playing with fire.
+
+But Basil did not seem to care much for ladies' society. He went to two
+or three grand balls and pronounced them stupid, on hearing which, the
+colonel raised his eyes and hands in horror.
+
+"A young man of twenty who finds a ball stupid is past hope," he said.
+
+There had been a great flutter in the dovecotes when it was known that
+Basil Carruthers, the heir of Ulverston, son of the great statesman, a
+young man whose income was quite twenty thousand per annum, besides the
+savings of a long minority, was in London--free, disengaged, and, as a
+matter of course, wanting a wife. Invitations literally poured in upon
+him--he accepted them at first, but soon grew tired.
+
+"A tres dansantes at Lady Cecilia Gorton's," he said, holding out an
+invitation card at arm's length. "Go, if you like, colonel. I do not
+care for it."
+
+The colonel was engrossed in the buttering of his roll, an operation
+which he always performed himself, but he was sufficiently astonished to
+pause in his proceedings and look at his nephew with a very horrified
+face.
+
+"You do not mean to tell me, Basil, that you are tired of ladies--young
+ladies?"
+
+"My dear colonel," said the young man, quietly, "I am very sorry to tell
+you that I find one chignon very much the same as another."
+
+Colonel Mostyn sighed deeply. What Mentor could make anything out of
+such a Telemachus? He resigned himself, thankful that what he called one
+civilized taste remained--Basil enjoyed the opera.
+
+"I would really sooner see him fall in love with an opera dancer than
+remain what he is," thought the man of the world.
+
+One evening they went to the opera. It was "Lucretia Borgia," and, as
+usual, Basil Carruthers saw nothing but the stage. In vain did the
+unwearied colonel call his attention to Lady Evelyn Hope, the lovely
+blonde; the fascinating Spanish Countess Rosella; to the twin sisters,
+the Ladies Isabel and Marie Duncan--he looked at them without interest.
+
+"I wonder," thought the colonel to himself, "if the woman be living who
+could touch that cold, icy heart!"
+
+The opera was nearly over when he saw Basil looking intently at the
+occupants of a box on the grand tier. He even raised his glass, and sat
+for some minutes oblivious of everything and everyone except one central
+figure. Very quietly and without attracting Basil's attention, Colonel
+Mostyn raised his glass and looked at the box. His gaze was steadfast
+for some minutes, then he gave utterance to a prolonged sigh.
+
+"That will do," he said to himself.
+
+Like the diplomatist that he was, Colonel Mostyn said never a word, but
+when the act was ended, he turned to Basil.
+
+"I see a lady, an old friend of mine, and I am going to spend a few
+minutes with her."
+
+He went to the box, and had the satisfaction of seeing that Basil never
+removed his glass. When he returned to his own seat, the heir of
+Ulverston said, somewhat eagerly:
+
+"Who is that lady, colonel, with whom you have been speaking?"
+
+"My dear boy," he replied, "one chignon is just like another; which do
+you mean?"
+
+"There is no chignon in this case. I mean the lady with whom you have
+been speaking."
+
+"That is Lady Amelie Lisle," he replied, briefly.
+
+"Amelie Lisle!" repeated Basil; "but who is she?"
+
+"If you wish to know her pedigree, you must consult Burke's Peerage. I
+can only remember that she is the daughter of Lord Grayson, who married
+a French duchess, and rumor says she is the loveliest and most
+accomplished woman in England."
+
+"Is she married?" was the next question.
+
+"Yes; she married Lord Lisle, and rumor, always busy with beautiful
+women, says again that she is not too happy. Do you know Lord Lisle?"
+
+"No; I do not remember having ever seen him."
+
+"When you do, you will realize what it is for a man to be all animal. He
+eats well, sleeps well, drinks well; he rides out a great deal in the
+fresh air; he is tall and portly, never, perhaps, read a book through in
+his life, good humored, generous in his way, but obstinate as a--well,
+as a woman."
+
+"And is that lovely lady married to such a man?"
+
+"Yes; the lovely lady was very young, and perhaps his fortune tempted
+her. She is all fire and poetry, plays with passion as children play
+with sharp knives."
+
+"Will you introduce me?" asked Basil Carruthers.
+
+"My dear Basil," replied the wily diplomatist, with an air of assumed
+frankness, "I really do not think you would like her. She is fond of
+balls, of dancing, of all sorts of amusements that you despise. If I
+introduce you to anybody at all, it must be to Minerva in disguise."
+
+"I should not like Minerva," was the abrupt reply.
+
+"Well, as you seem anxious, I will undertake it. We are going to the
+Duchess of Hexham's ball tomorrow evening. Lady Amelie Lisle is sure to
+be there--no grand ball is complete without her. She is so surrounded
+now. I hardly like to interrupt her. Are you going to the Hexham ball?"
+
+Now Basil had said no, he should certainly decline the invitation, but
+he seemed to forget it.
+
+"Certainly I shall go," he said.
+
+"Ah, then we shall see her there," replied the colonel, and his long
+mustache concealed the triumphant smile with which he listened to the
+words.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+Lady Amelie at Home.
+
+
+The poets of old must have been thinking of a woman like Lady Amelie
+when they wrote of circes and sirens, and women whose beauty has proved
+fatal to men. It is perhaps quite as well that they are very rare--the
+power of a beautiful woman is great. If she be good, and use it for a
+good purpose; the world is the better for it. If she be bad, and her
+beauty is simply used as a lure, the world is the worse for it.
+
+Either for good or evil, the power of Lady Amelie was great, for a more
+royally beautiful woman had seldom been seen. She was the very ideal of
+glowing, luxurious loveliness, and her beauty was perhaps the least of
+her charms. She had that wonderful gift of fascination which makes even
+a plain woman irresistible. Allied to beauty so wondrous as hers, it was
+fatal.
+
+It is morning, and Lady Amelie, fresh and radiant as a June rose, is in
+her boudoir, an exquisite little room, hung with pink silk and white
+lace; the windows were draped with pink silk, and the light that came
+through was subdued and rosy, the fairest of all lights in which to see
+a fair woman.
+
+A gem of a room, from which a painter would have made a room glowing in
+luxurious color. The air was heavy with the perfume of white hyacinths
+and daphnes--the jardinieres were filled with the sweetest of flowers;
+Lady Amelie loved them so well; she was never so pleased as when in the
+midst of them. There was a marble Flora, whose hands were filled with
+purple heliotropes--in fact, every beauty that money, taste or luxury
+could suggest, was there. Pale pink was a color that Lady Amelie
+loved--her chairs and couches were covered with it. She is sitting now
+in a pretty, fantastic chair, the subdued rosy light of the room falling
+full upon her. She is reading the fashionable daily paper, smiling as
+some on dits meet her eye. Surely such beauty as that should be
+immortal. No wonder that Basil Carruthers, whose eyes had never rested
+long on a woman's face before, should not weary of hers.
+
+It is the beauty of an empress, royal, commanding, statuesque, yet
+radiant and full of grace. Her figure, as she reclines, is perfection;
+the soft, flowing lines, the gracious curves, the free, unfettered
+grace, the queenly dignity, all combined, enchant one. The head, whose
+contour is simply perfect, is crowned with a mass of dark hair, shining
+like the lustrous wing of some rare bird. The brow is white, rounded at
+the temples and clear as the leaf of the lily. The brows are straight,
+delicate and have in them wonderful expression. But it was Lady Amelie's
+eyes that drew men so irresistibly to her feet. They were irresistible.
+Black, with a languid, golden light in their wondrous depths; full of
+veiled fire and repressed passion. They could melt and flash, persuade
+and command, as no other eyes did. No man ever looked into their depths
+without losing himself there. Her mouth was no less beautiful, tender
+and sensitive; yet those lovely lips could curl with scorn that withered
+and pride that crashed.
+
+She knew that she was beautiful, and she rejoiced in her beauty, as the
+lion in his strength or the serpent in its cunning. Men she looked upon
+as her natural vassals, her subjects, her lawful prey. She never once,
+in the whole course of her triumphant life, paused to think whether or
+not she inflicted pain. If any one had said to her, abruptly, "You have
+made such a person suffer," she would have laughed gaily. The ache and
+pain of honest hearts is incense to a coquette.
+
+And Lady Amelie Lisle was a coquette to the very depth of her heart! She
+could have counted her victims by the hundred. Who ever saw her and did
+not love her? She delighted in this universal worship; it became
+necessary to her as the air she breathed. Universal dominion was her end
+and aim; but once sure of a man's love or admiration, it became
+worthless to her and she longed for something fresh. Like Alexander, she
+would have conquered worlds.
+
+Not, be it understood, that Lady Amelie, as she expressed it, "ever went
+in for anything serious." She had never been in love in her life, except
+with herself, and to that one affection she was most constant. She
+accepted all, but gave none. Once or twice her flirtations had been on
+the verge, but Lady Amelie was one of those who can look very steadily
+over the brink but never fall in.
+
+The world spoke well of her. "She was certainly a great coquette,"
+people said, indulgently, but then she was so beautiful and so much
+admired. She smiles as she reads the fashionable intelligence; there is
+a paragraph describing her appearance at a ball given by one of the
+queens of society. The paper speaks of her beauty, her magnificent dress
+and costly jewels. She remembered all the homage, the sighs, the
+whispered words, the honeyed compliments, smiled and thought how sweet
+life was.
+
+At that moment her maid entered. "My lady," she said. "Colonel Mostyn
+would be so much obliged if you could see him. It is on important
+business."
+
+"Certainly. I will see him here," she replied. "What can he want with
+me?" thought my lady. "He was very empresse last night; surely he is not
+going to make love to me."
+
+And the notion of a gray-haired lover piqued her and made her smile
+again.
+
+The colonel entered with the most courtly of bows, and she received him
+graciously. He talked of the opera, of the ball, of the last new novel,
+of the latest marriage on the tapis, and all the time Lady Lisle's
+beautiful eyes were looking at him. "It was not for this you came," she
+thought. At last the colonel spoke openly.
+
+"I have come to ask of you a great favor, Lady Lisle," he said. "You
+have perhaps heard of my young kinsman, Basil Carruthers?"
+
+"The heir of Ulverston?" she said. "Certainly. He is one of the prizes
+in the matrimonial market at present, colonel."
+
+Colonel Mostyn drew a very animated and interesting portrait of his
+young charge.
+
+"He wants modernizing; his ideas are dated two hundred years back. Lady
+Lisle, there is no one who could work such wonders for him as you."
+
+"What could I do?" she asked, with a conscious smile.
+
+"You could modernize him and humanize him. Will you allow me to
+introduce him to you? And will you take him in hand a little--teach him
+something of life as it is, not as he dreams of it?"
+
+"What if he burns his wings, like many other silly moths?" she asked,
+laughingly.
+
+"It would do him all the good in the world," he replied, with
+enthusiasm. "Will you believe, Lady Lisle, that he never admired any
+one, not even Lady Evelyn Hope? He never admired any face until he saw
+yours last evening." That piqued her. "I have never seen anything like
+his indifference to all ladies. Dear Lady Lisle, you are the brilliant
+sun that alone can melt this icicle. I assure you, that his mother and
+myself are in despair."
+
+"You must not blame me," she said, "for whatever happens. You choose to
+run the risk."
+
+"Nothing can happen but what will be for his greatest good," said the
+colonel, gallantly.
+
+"You may introduce him to me," said Lady Amelie, "and I will do the best
+I can for him."
+
+"You will be at the Duchess of Hexham's ball this evening?" he asked.
+
+"Yes," she replied. "You have described your charge, Colonel Mostyn; now
+I know the carte du pays. It would be better not to mention having seen
+me."
+
+"Certainly not"--
+
+"Let me see," she interrupted. "I am to teach him what life is like in
+this nineteenth century, to try to inoculate him with modern ideas; to
+teach him how to appreciate the society of ladies; he shall learn his
+lesson well."
+
+There was something in her peerless face and her brilliant smile that
+made Colonel Mostyn pause, and wonder if after all he had done a wise
+thing.
+
+"The boy cannot be hurt," he said to himself; "he has too much sense to
+fall in love with a married lady. A violent flirtation will do him good,
+and cure him of his absurd ideas."
+
+"Your ladyship will be the benefactress of the whole family if you can
+rescue our young hero, and help us make him in some degree fit for the
+age he lives in."
+
+Lady Amelie smiled; there was not much fear in her failing in anything
+she undertook.
+
+"It is not often that young men err on the side of originality and
+singularity," she said; "I have always considered realism the sin of the
+age. I am quite curious to see your hero, Colonel Mostyn."
+
+"I believe he is quite as anxious to see you, Lady Lisle; he positively
+asked me to introduce him to you, and that is a request he has never
+made before, though I have shown him some beautiful women."
+
+"I ought to feel flattered," said Lady Amelie, and again there was
+something in her smile that made the colonel wonder whether he had done
+amiss.
+
+"We are quite in a conspiracy," he said, and Lady Lisle laughingly
+assured him that all women were fond of plots.
+
+"Your sex, my dear colonel, are so strong and so wise that it is a real
+pleasure to any poor weak woman to outwit you." And Lady Amelie shot him
+a glance from her beautiful eyes that made the colonel again half pity
+his young kinsman.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+Weaving the Spell.
+
+
+The Duchess of Hexham bore the reputation of being a most accomplished
+woman; if she excelled in anything it was certainly the giving of balls.
+She had the largest, loftiest and best ball-room in London. It was never
+overcrowded.
+
+"As many flowers as possible," she was in the habit of saying; "but we
+must limit our guests."
+
+It did not matter either who was fashionable and who was not, the
+duchess would have nothing but beauty and grace at her balls. You were
+sure at Hexham House to meet the most beautiful women in London and the
+most eligible men. It was consequently agreed on all sides that her
+grace gave the best balls during the season. This one at which Lady
+Amelie was to be present, promised unusual splendor.
+
+An archduke of one of the European courts was just then the guest of the
+queen, and he had promised to honor Hexham House with his presence.
+
+"He shall see such lovely women," said the duchess to her husband, "that
+he shall go back to his own country in despair."
+
+To Lady Amelie she had said, laughingly: "Look your very loveliest. I
+want you to make a conquest of the archduke."
+
+And that queen of coquettes thought to herself that her hands on that
+eventful evening would indeed be full. Not one word did the diplomatic
+old colonel say to Basil, but that young man was not quite himself. He
+had been wonderfully attracted by Lady Lisle's face; he read poetry,
+love of romance and everything else beautiful and piquant in it. Of all
+the women he had seen she was the only one who had interested him. He
+wondered whether the mind matched the peerless face. She must be clever,
+witty, brilliant, he thought, or she would not have kept all those men
+enchained as she did. He was very anxious to see her again.
+
+"If she is like everyone else," he said, "I shall soon be disenchanted,
+but if she speaks as she looks, she will indeed be peerless among
+women."
+
+He longed for the evening. He said nothing of her, but he talked so
+incessantly of the Duchess of Hexham, that the colonel understood
+exactly where his thoughts were, and smiled again most knowingly to
+himself.
+
+He looked at his young kinsman in his faultless evening dress, and said
+to himself that there was not in all England a more noble or handsome
+man.
+
+Lady Amelie called all the skill of the milliner to her aid; her dress
+was superb and effective--gold flowers on a white ground--a dress that
+irresistibly reminded one of sunbeams; it fell around her in statuesque
+folds that would have driven a sculptor to despair. Her beautiful neck
+and white arms were bare. She wore a diamond necklace of almost
+priceless value; her dark, shining hair was crowned with a circlet of
+the same royal stones; a diamond bracelet clasped one rounded arm. As
+she moved the light shone on her dress and gleamed on her jewels, until
+one was dazed with her splendor.
+
+Lady Amelie was very particular about her flowers. On this evening, with
+her costly dress and magnificent jewels, she would have nothing but
+white daphnes. Did she know that the sweet, subtle fragrance of a daphne
+reaches the senses long before the odor of other flowers touches them?
+As she surveyed herself in the mirror, she felt devoutly satisfied.
+
+"I shall be able to convert Basil Carruthers, Esq., to anything I like,"
+she said; "if he has resisted all the world, he will yield to me."
+
+So she drove off, resplendent, happy, animated, ready for the weaving of
+her spells.
+
+Any good Christian, seeing her pass by with that triumphant smile on her
+lovely face, might have prayed their nearest and dearest should be kept
+from harm.
+
+Lady Amelie never arrived very early at a ball. She liked to make her
+entree when most of the other guests were assembled. It was sweet to her
+to see how sorry and shy the ladies looked at her arrival, and how the
+faces of the men brightened. The first thing, of course, when she
+arrived at Hexham House, was the archduke. It was wonderful to watch the
+various phases of character that she could assume at will. With the
+archduke, she was the brilliant woman of the world, witty, sarcastic,
+adorable. He was enchanted with her; he declared that she combined all
+the charms of English and French women; he danced with her and would
+fain have lingered by her side, but that etiquette called him away.
+
+Then Lady Amelie, already the belle of the ball, looked up, for Colonel
+Mostyn was standing before her, and by his side one of the handsomest
+and noblest young men she had ever seen. He introduced Basil Carruthers
+to his fate.
+
+She looked in his face with a smile, and drawing aside a fold of her
+sumptuous dress, made room for him to sit near her.
+
+He thought her even more dazzlingly beautiful than when he had seen her
+at the opera. The perfume of the white daphnes must have touched his
+senses as those most lovely eyes smiled into his; his brain seemed to
+reel; he was intoxicated with her beauty as some men are with the fumes
+of rare wine.
+
+Colonel Mostyn lingered for a few minutes, then, well satisfied, went
+away, leaving Basil and Lady Amelie together. She had taken her seat
+under the shade of a magnificent mass of gorgeous, blooming flowers,
+with wondrous leaves and rich perfume. As she sat with her gleaming
+dress and jewels showing to perfection, from against this beautiful
+background, Basil was completely charmed. In all his life he had never
+even seen such a picture. She turned to him, when they were alone, with
+the sweetest smile on her lovely lips; her eyes seemed to rain down
+light into his.
+
+"This is a brilliant scene, Mr. Carruthers; the duchess excels in the
+arrangement of her rooms."
+
+He made some reply; he never quite knew what it was. It was enough for
+him to watch the charm of that irresistible face as she spoke. "Of
+course, everything depends on taste," she continued; "I quite expect you
+to laugh at me, but do you know what scene I should find much more
+brilliant than this?"
+
+"I cannot imagine," he replied; "but I shall not laugh."
+
+"Ah, well. I am peculiar in my tastes. In place of this brilliant
+ballroom, I should like to be seated at a tournament. I should like to
+see the knights with their banners and waving plumes, in the lists--the
+ladies in their balconies all hung with cloth of gold--the queen of
+beauty with the prize. Ah, me! in those days, ladies had knights and men
+were heroes."
+
+As he looked at her, his whole soul shone in his eyes.
+
+"And I, too," he cried. "I love those days ten thousand times better
+than these."
+
+"Do you?" asked her ladyship with admiring eyes, "how strange! It is not
+long since I was speaking to one whom I may call a young man of the
+period, and his reply was, 'Horrid bore, those kind of things were, Lady
+Lisle,' and I thought most young men were of his opinion."
+
+"I am not," said Basil, "I love those knights and heroes of old! great
+men and grand men who were content to ride forth, and to battle unto
+death for a woman's smile."
+
+She raised her radiant eyes to his.
+
+"Would you do that much for a woman's smile, Mr. Carruthers?"
+
+He paused a moment before speaking, then said: "For one such woman as
+those men loved, I would." She sighed deeply; the jewels on her white
+breast gleamed and glistened.
+
+"Ah, you think, then, that the glorious race of women heroes loved and
+died for, have disappeared?"
+
+"I thought so, until I saw you," he replied.
+
+"You are wrong," she said. "You will live to tell me that you are wrong.
+There may be no Helen such as she who lived at Troy, and no Cleopatra
+such as Egypt's dusky queen, but there are grand women living yet,
+worthy of heroes' love."
+
+"I am sure of it," he said, "now that I have seen you."
+
+But she made no reply; she did not even appear to have heard his words.
+
+"I can understand you," she said, gently. "Women have sometimes the rare
+gift of entering into the minds of reserved men. I understand you as
+though I had known you for years."
+
+His face cleared, his heart beat, his eyes brightened for her as they
+had never done for any other woman.
+
+"I can remember," she said, "when I had many similar opinions. I used to
+think these, our present days of steam and progress, quite unfit for
+heroes; I used to long for olden times again, when, by one great deed, a
+man made a great name."
+
+His eyes shone with new fire as he looked at her; it seemed to him that
+he had found his other soul at last. His mother laughed at him; Marion
+Hautville was sarcastic to him, but this beautiful woman--this
+magnificent queen at whose feet men bowed--she not only sympathized with
+him, but she had the self-same ideas.
+
+"The great thing that I complain of," said Lady Amelie, "is that there
+really seems in these days nothing to do. You, for instance, supposing
+that you were ambitious, how would you distinguish yourself?"
+
+And as she asked the question, my lady gave a sidelong look at her
+victim and was charmed to see the progress she had made.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+Deeper and Deeper Still.
+
+
+It was not possible that the queen of the ball should be allowed to sit
+apart from the dancers long. Many curious glances were bent on the pair
+who sat before the grand tier of fragrant blossoms.
+
+"Who is that with Lady Amelie?" asked one of another.
+
+"Mr. Carruthers of Ulverston," was the, reply; and great was the
+indignation felt by young ladies and their mammas.
+
+Poor Lady Masham had five marriageable daughters, and none had as yet
+received even the faintest shadow of an offer. In her own mind she had
+thought of Mr. Carruthers as especially eligible for one of them, and
+had resolved, when he did go more into society, upon a decided mode of
+attack. Her dismay, when she saw the state of things, can be better
+imagined than described.
+
+"My dear," she said to her friend and confidant, Mrs. Scrops, "look,
+only look! Lady Amelie has victimized Mr. Carruthers."
+
+"She cannot do him any harm," replied Mrs. Scrops; "she is married, I am
+thankful to say."
+
+"There will be no good done with him this season," said poor Lady
+Masham. "I would rather he had fallen in love than that she took
+possession of him."
+
+But Basil was not allowed to remain very long tete-a-tete with his
+charming queen. The Duchess of Hexham, alarmed lest her most brilliant
+star should be eclipsed, came to the rescue. Lady Amelie was soon
+surrounded, and then was carried off by the archduke.
+
+Not, however, before she had managed to turn round to Basil and say to
+him, sotto voce, "You must call and see me. We shall be friends, I can
+foretell." And he was more charmed than ever by those words. Friends
+with that enchanting woman, that proud, peerless queen, that radiant
+beauty! Be friends with her! It was more than he had dared to venture to
+hope. That he might worship her in the distance seemed to him honor
+enough.
+
+He had dreamed of such women, but he had not thought they existed; they
+belonged to the heroic ages, past now and dead. Here, in the midst of
+the days he considered so degenerate, he had found the very ideal of his
+heart.
+
+The brilliant scene before him seemed to fade away. Ah! if there was but
+some faint chance of distinguishing himself for her sake!--if she were
+but a princess in distress!--a lady for whom he could enter the lists
+and fight until he won! What was there in this prosaic century that he
+could do for her?--literally nothing but give her flowers.
+
+"Basil! Basil! my dear boy," said a voice near him. "Pray excuse me, but
+what are you doing here? Dreaming in a ballroom? This will not do."
+
+And Basil, aroused from his dream, looked up to see the face of Colonel
+Mostyn, wearing an expression of perfect horror.
+
+"Do rouse up, Basil! Do, for heaven's sake, try to be like every one
+else! Lady Masham wishes to know you; come with me."
+
+Basil followed, like a victim. Lady Masham received him cordially,
+mentioned casually that she had been to school with his mother,
+therefore felt called upon to take a special interest in himself, and
+then, very kindly, introduced him to her youngest daughter, Miss Nellie,
+whom she pathetically called the flower of her flock. Miss Nellie was a
+pretty girl, as were all the Misses Masham, or they would not have
+figured at her grace's ball. She wore the regulation chignon, golden
+brown in her case, her eyes were blue, her lips rosy and sweet, her face
+fair as the lilies and roses of summer. They had all been brought up
+after the same pattern; they all knew exactly what to say in every case
+and how to say it. As a matter of course, and not, it is to be feared,
+because he felt the least inclination, Basil asked the young lady to
+dance, and Miss Nellie, with the prettiest pink flush on her cheek,
+consented.
+
+She talked about the rooms, the opera, the archduke, until Basil almost
+groaned aloud. There was his beautiful queen, with her face full of
+poetry and her eyes of love. Yet if he could but have had both hearts,
+he would have seen that pretty, simple Nellie Masham, who talked
+innocent little commonplaces to him, was worth a thousand of such women
+as Lady Amelie Lisle. But it is not given to men to see clearly;
+anything but that. When Basil Carruthers had finished that dance he
+longed to escape, lest he should be compelled to go through another.
+Then came another moment of rapture for him, when, from the midst of a
+crowd of courtiers, Lady Amelie summoned him to take her to her
+carriage. Already they seemed like old friends. Basil drew the lace
+shawl around the white shoulders and held her flowers.
+
+"You have told me I may call," he said; "will you tell me when?"
+
+"I am visible any time after two," said Lady Amelie. Not for any amount
+of love or homage would she forego her comforts. Then it seemed to him
+that the world stopped until two the next day. He went back to the
+ballroom, but its beauty had all departed--there was no soul in the
+music, no fragrance in the flowers.
+
+"Colonel," he said, "I have had quite enough of the ball. Are you ready
+for home?"
+
+The colonel, who was quite satisfied with the result of the night's
+work, declared that he also was ready, and they went.
+
+"A very pleasant ball," remarked the diplomatist, as they drove home.
+
+"Was it?" said Basil dreamily. "I did not notice much--the only part of
+it I enjoyed was the conversation I had with Lady Lisle. Ah, colonel, if
+the ladies of the present day resembled her, there would be some hope
+for chivalry."
+
+"God forbid," thought the colonel to himself. Aloud he replied: "Yes,
+she is a very beautiful and most accomplished woman."
+
+"She is more than that; she has a touch of genius and fire and poetry. I
+have met no one like her."
+
+"I can only hope," thought Colonel Mostyn, "he will not take the disease
+too severely. I want a difference, but I do not care to have a case of
+raving love and madness on my hands."
+
+At breakfast time the next morning, Colonel Mostyn was pleased to see
+that, for the first time, Basil eagerly opened the papers and spoke
+anxiously of the evening engagements.
+
+"Better rest at home, tonight," said the colonel; "you were out last
+evening, and going out much tires you, I know. What do you say to a
+quiet game at chess?"
+
+"I cannot say positively. I shall not know what my evening engagements
+are until dinner-time."
+
+And then the colonel felt quite relieved. "He is going to call on Lady
+Amelie," he thought, "and wherever she goes this evening he will follow.
+I shall soon see him like other young men."
+
+As for Basil himself, he simply lived in one longing for two o'clock. My
+lady was perfectly ready to receive him. She had arranged a little scene
+and smiled to herself as she thought how sure it was to succeed.
+
+"He saw me all magnificence last evening; now I will play a different
+role."
+
+She wore a plain dress of some white flowing material, with a knot of
+scarlet ribbons on her fair neck; her shining hair was drawn from her
+white brow and fell in luxuriant waves; in it she wore one rose half
+shrouded in green leaves, and never in all her gorgeous magnificence had
+Lady Amelie looked one-half as fair. She was seated in her own boudoir,
+where the white daphnes shone like stars in the rosy light. A picture
+that would have ravished the heart of any man that gazed upon it, and
+Lady Amelie knew that it was perfect, even down to the graceful attitude
+and half sad, half languid expression of her face.
+
+It was not much after two when he came. Her reception of him was
+perfect--unstudied, graceful, natural; and he looking at her, thought
+her more beautiful than ever.
+
+"You were reading," he said; "have I disturbed you?"
+
+"No; Owen Meredith is a favorite poet of mine; there is something very
+unworldly and beautiful about his verses."
+
+"That is why you like them--you are so unworldly yourself."
+
+"Perhaps so, in one sense. I have just sufficient tinge of it about me
+to teach me that whatever are my thoughts and opinions, if they differ
+much from other people's, I must keep them to myself, unless, as is the
+case now, I meet a congenial soul."
+
+A view of the subject which was quite new to Basil.
+
+"I thought originality was a sign of genius," he replied, "and that
+people admired it."
+
+She smiled with an air of superiority that left him miles behind.
+
+"My observation teaches me that there is nothing worldly people
+disapprove of so highly as originality," she said. "To be more clever
+than your neighbor is a crime they never pardon."
+
+Basil, drinking in the beauty of that marvelous face, and the light of
+those lovely eyes, learned more worldly wisdom in one hour from the
+lovely lips of Lady Amelie than he had ever learned before.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+How the Plot Succeeded.
+
+
+Colonel Mostyn had no longer any reason to complain of his young
+kinsman; it was a month since he had been introduced to Lady Amelie, and
+he had lived in one long dream. He no longer found the time wearisome,
+or longed for something to do. He was in the power of a beautiful and
+heartless coquette, who took care that he should not lightly wear her
+chains.
+
+He no longer showed any indifference to his evening engagements; to be
+with her was the one wish of his life; where she went, he went--to ball,
+opera, soiree, concert, fete, to dinners at Richmond, to water-parties;
+whoever saw the beautiful Lady Amelie, saw her last victim with her.
+
+Colonel Mostyn began to think that really matters had been carried quite
+far enough; all the good he had anticipated was done; he did not wish
+evil to follow, and he was beginning to scheme for his young kinsman's
+rescue, when he was suddenly summoned to join his regiment, just ordered
+abroad, and Basil was left to his fate.
+
+He gave him some parting words of advice, but they fell on deaf ears.
+Even had Basil quite understood them, he would have asked how was it
+possible for a matter-of-fact, prosaic soldier like Colonel Mostyn, a
+man of the world, to understand such transcendental beings as Lady
+Amelie and himself.
+
+During the whole of this time, believe me, he had no thought of harm or
+wrong; he never dreamed of being in love with Lady Amelie. What was she
+to him? His queen, his lode-star, his inspiration to all that was great
+and glorious, the Lama to his Petrarch; but of anything less exalted, he
+had no notion. Basil Carruthers, with all his eccentricity, would have
+shuddered at the bare notion of dishonorable love or sin. He was an
+enthusiast, a dreamer, a poet in heart and soul, but he was not the man
+to betray a woman; he scorned the notion of such a sin; it was utterly
+beneath his lofty nature. How skilfully she managed him! How artfully
+she contrived to lead him on, to engage his whole thought, time and
+attention, yet never to lose her influence for one moment!
+
+Take a scene from her life and his. A bright, beautiful summer day,
+when, with a large party of friends, they had gone down to Richmond.
+When dinner was over, and the sweet, soft gloaming lay over the earth,
+Lady Amelie left the room, where the guests were lingering over the wine
+and grapes, and went out into the balcony that overlooked the green park
+and the smooth, clear water.
+
+Seeing that, and feeling tired of the conversation, Basil followed her.
+She was leaning over the stone balustrade, and the green foliage
+wreathed round the balcony formed a beautiful frame-work for a lovely
+picture. He went up to her, and stood in silence by her side.
+
+"How different these two worlds are!" she said. "The world in there, all
+heat, noise and frivolity; the world out here, so calm, so grand and
+still. Look at the shadow of the trees in the water! Look at the
+floating clouds of rose-colored light in the sky!"
+
+But he thought nothing in that outside world so beautiful as she
+herself.
+
+"Are you found of German stories?" he asked her, suddenly.
+
+"Yes, some of them. I like the mystery and the spirituality, the poetry
+and the romance."
+
+"I read a book of Fouque's last night that charmed me--Minstrel Love. Do
+you know it, Lady Amelie?"
+
+"No," she replied; "tell me what it is."
+
+"Only the history of a poet-knight who loved the lofty Lady Alcarda. She
+lived with her husband, a German warrior, in an old castle, and the poet
+was her knight.
+
+"Do you know, Lady Amelie," he whispered, "that book made me ambitious?"
+
+"Of what?" she asked.
+
+"Dare I tell you? The Lady Alcarda was beautiful, gifted, pure of heart
+and soul, lofty and spiritual--like you," he added, passionately, "and
+she accepted the poet's service--she made him her knight."
+
+"There are no knights in these days," she said, half sadly.
+
+"Ah! let me prove to you that you are wrong. You are like Lady Alcarda.
+Let me be your knight. I would be content to serve you in all chivalry,
+and in all honor, until death, if you would reward me with a kind word
+and a smile."
+
+His handsome young face looked so eager, so wistful, that the coquette's
+heart smote her for one half moment. Knowing what was before him, was it
+not too cruel to lead him on? But the short-lived feeling of compunction
+soon died. She bent her head and the perfume of the flowers she carried
+reached him.
+
+"Would you be my knight?" she said; "would you go through danger and
+peril to serve me?"
+
+"I would die for you," he replied, simply; "quite content, if you smiled
+on me as I died."
+
+"Do you mean it, without any romance or nonsense? Seriously, would you,
+to serve me?"
+
+"Yes: and count all loss as gain."
+
+"Then you shall be my knight, my friend. I am not a queen. I have no
+sword to lay on your shoulder, but I place my hand in yours, and I
+accept your loyal service."
+
+She laid her white hand in his, and the touch of those slender fingers
+thrilled him as nothing had ever done before.
+
+"I am your sovereign liege," she said, with a smile. "If I come to you
+in distress you are sworn, remember, to help me. If I require your
+service, it is mine."
+
+"Yes," he said; "at all times and at all hours."
+
+"I shall go through life the more happily for knowing that I have so
+true and chivalrous a defender," she replied.
+
+And they sat in the flower-wreathed balcony, watching the sun set over
+the river, and the simple, dreaming boy believed himself in Paradise.
+
+It seemed to him that the spell was broken when the other guests came
+out and joined them. As he could no longer talk to Lady Amelie, he was
+content to stand by himself and think over his own happiness. To him it
+was like a beautiful page from some old romance, that this lovely lady
+should have smiled upon him, and have laid her gracious hand upon him,
+calling him her knight. How insufferable the empty talk of the men
+around him seemed! Ah, if they knew how he was sworn to do the lady's
+service!
+
+It was more than an hour afterward when Lady Lisle was free again; then
+he enjoyed the felicity of helping her with her shawls, and of sitting
+by her side while they drove home in the moonlight.
+
+Lady Amelie was the very queen of coquettes. In the course of all her
+long experience, she had never, through all her flirtations, said one
+word too much. But no other woman living could imply so much by a
+gesture, a look or an exclamation. One morning Basil had called early,
+in the hope of escorting her to an exhibition of paintings. He found her
+alone, and while he was talking to her, a gentleman entered the room--a
+tall, portly, sensual-looking man, whom Basil disliked at first sight.
+Lady Amelie introduced him to her husband, Lord Lisle, who was very
+cordial in his greeting.
+
+"Lady Lisle has often spoken of you," he said; "but this is, strange to
+say, the first time I have ever had the pleasure of seeing you. I met
+your mother, Lady Carruthers, a year ago, and have a most pleasant
+recollection of her."
+
+Lord Lisle sat down, and Lady Amelie gave a pretty little sigh,
+expressive of her resignation to something unpleasant.
+
+And truly a conversation with Lord Lisle was about as unpleasant a
+matter as one could well experience. His language was coarse; his ideas
+coarser still. There was very little to redeem it. He mistook slang for
+wit, told stories that made his wife shudder, and misbehaved himself as
+only such a man can do.
+
+Basil looked at him in dismay. Could it be possible that this man was
+the husband of that queen of beauty? What a life for her! No wonder she
+looked sad as she sat listening to him! The young man's heart ached for
+her.
+
+"Are you engaged this evening?" asked Lord Lisle; "if not, dine with us.
+I expect Sir Harry Vere, and he is the most amusing character I know."
+
+He would have refused, but that he met the imploring glance of Lady
+Amelie's eyes.
+
+"I will come with pleasure," he replied; and her eyes thanked him.
+
+Then Lord Lisle, thinking he had been most amiable and charming, rose
+from his chair and quitted the room. In some vague, indistinct way the
+atmosphere seemed clearer after he had gone.
+
+Lady Amelie made no comment; a woman less gifted than herself might have
+done so; she merely raised her hands and eyes and gave one deep sigh.
+Will you believe me that that sigh meant more than any other woman could
+have put into words? It meant "Pity me! see how I am wasted on this boor
+of a man! think how uncongenial he is, how wretched I am."
+
+No one could sigh so effectively as Lady Amelie Lisle; thus it was with
+difficulty she refrained from smiling. Basil looked so wretchedly
+anxious and uncomfortable, she saw that he was longing to say something,
+but dare not.
+
+"I shall not be five minutes," she said, with a graceful little smile;
+"and then we can spend a long hour with the pictures."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+Caught in the Snare.
+
+
+The first part of that hour was charming. Basil never forgot it; the
+rooms were not crowded, the pictures beautiful, and Lady Amelie in one
+of her most graceful moods. They both stood before a little gem by one
+of our first English artists, called "The Coquette's Decision," a very
+pretty picture that told its own story. A young girl, standing, half
+hesitating between two gentlemen. They looked anxious, she smiling and
+triumphant. She inclined ever so little to the fair-haired youth on the
+right, her eyes and lips smiling on him, but her hand was extended to
+his dark-haired rival on the left.
+
+"I do not like that kind of picture," said Basil, "it lowers one's ideal
+of woman. I do not think there is one-half so much coquetry in the world
+as people would make you believe."
+
+"Perhaps you never knew a coquette," she said; and the look she gave him
+from underneath those long lashes was quite irresistible.
+
+"No," he replied; "indeed, a coquette could never charm me. My ideal of
+woman is some one as lofty, grand, beautiful and gifted as you."
+
+"Yet there are coquettes," she said, gravely.
+
+"I do not doubt it. I only say there would be no charm for me in the
+fairest of them all."
+
+Just then two gentlemen entered at the other end of the room, and the
+slight noise made by their entrance caused Lady Amelie to look up.
+Basil, who was watching her every movement, as he always did,
+attentively, saw her turn very pale and a sudden cloud of fear dimmed
+the radiance of her eyes.
+
+"Lady Amelie, you are ill!" he cried; "or tired."
+
+"I am tired," she said, and they sat down on one of the seats, placed
+in the middle of the room. It struck him that she was anxiously trying
+to conceal herself from observation, yet the idea seemed absurd.
+
+In the meantime, the two gentlemen advanced slowly up the room. They,
+too, paused before "The Coquette's Decision," and laughed. Then one,
+leaving his companion, came hastily to the seat where Lady Amelie was
+sitting. He held out his hand as though surprised and delighted.
+
+"Lady Amelie!" he said. "I felt sure that I was not mistaken--that it
+must be you."
+
+There was no answering delight on her face; nothing but constraint,
+embarrassment and confusion.
+
+"How do you do, Count Jules?" she said, coldly. "This is an unexpected
+surprise. I thought you had left London for some years."
+
+"L'homme propose, Dieu dispose," said the count. "I only reached England
+last night, and have hurried to London."
+
+"It is strange that I should meet you here," she said.
+
+"My friend, Monsieur Le Blanc, has a picture here, and I have been
+criticising it for him."
+
+Then Lady Amelie seemed to remember the laws of politeness, for she
+introduced the two gentlemen, who looked very unpleasantly at each
+other.
+
+Basil did not like the count, although at first sight he was certainly a
+very handsome man, essentially French, with a quick, shrewd, handsome
+face and dark hair, eyes black as night, yet bright and eloquent. It was
+those very eyes that Basil disliked; they were not clear, true nor
+honest. In fact, a sudden hatred to the French count sprang up in his
+heart, he could not tell how or why. They exchanged a few words, and
+then, under pretense of drawing Lady Amelie's attention to a picture,
+Count Jules said to her:
+
+"Can you not dismiss your young cavalier? I have come to London on
+purpose to see you--I must speak to you."
+
+"I cannot dismiss him," she said, curtly. "He is not a footman to be
+sent away at my pleasure. Tell me in few words what you want."
+
+"I want money!" he said, with a very dark frown; "and money, Amelie, I
+must have."
+
+"I can give you none--you have no conscience. How much have you had
+already?"
+
+"I have kept no account." he replied; "and really what I have had is not
+of the least consequence--it is what I have to get."
+
+"That will be nothing from me," she replied. "I gave you a thousand
+pounds three months ago, and you promised you would ask for no more."
+
+"I did not foresee the present necessity," he said. "Amelie, I must have
+money."
+
+"Count Jules," said Lady Lisle, "you are a villain, who trades upon a
+woman's fears!"
+
+"My charming lady shall call me anything she will, but I must have the
+money."
+
+"I tell you," she replied, angrily, "that I have not got it, nor is it
+any use asking my lord for it; he was angry the last time, and I shall
+ask him no more."
+
+"Then get it from some other source."
+
+"There is no other source open to me," she replied.
+
+The count's face darkened angrily.
+
+"There need not be so many words about it, Lady Lisle. I must have the
+money."
+
+"By what right do you incessantly demand money from me?" she asked.
+
+"You promised, in those happier days, to be my friend always; and as a
+friend you have lent me money often. As a friend, I ask you for it
+again."
+
+"And as a friend," she retorted, "I refuse."
+
+"Then I shall be obliged to adopt the very unpleasant alternative of
+asking it from Lord Lisle."
+
+"Lord Lisle would refuse it."
+
+"He would give it to me as the means of purchasing my silence," he said.
+"You forget, Lady Amelie, what I have to show Lord Lisle, if he does
+refuse?"
+
+"You mean my letters?" she said, indignantly. "You are coward enough to
+threaten me with showing my husband the letters I was so mistaken as to
+write to you?"
+
+"I should be deeply grieved, indeed," he said, "but I have no other
+alternative."
+
+"And I mistook you for a gentleman," she said, with calm scorn.
+
+"You were very kind to me, Lady Amelie," he said, with a polite sneer.
+
+"I do not believe you have those letters," she said.
+
+"I have, indeed. I have locked them up with the only two family
+heirlooms I possess--a watch and a ring--in an ivory casket, and I go
+nowhere without it."
+
+"You must do your worst!" said Lady Amelie.
+
+"Nay," he said, "I do not wish to do that. My worst would be to bring
+the honored name of Lady Amelie Lisle into the divorce court, and that I
+should not like to do. Do not decide hastily. I cannot remain in England
+very long. Take a week to decide in and let me know when I am to have
+the money."
+
+She turned from him with the scornful gesture of an outraged queen.
+
+"We shall see," she muttered between her white teeth. "We shall see."
+
+She spoke no other word to him, but went back to her seat. Count Jules
+bowed and quitted the room.
+
+"You do not like that man, Lady Lisle?" said Basil, as he looked at her
+fair, flushed face. Before she had time to answer, they were joined by
+some ladies of his acquaintance, and were not able to exchange another
+word on the subject. As he was leaving, Lady Lisle looked out of the
+carriage.
+
+"Mr. Carruthers!" she said. He was by her side in a moment. She was pale
+and agitated, not quite herself.
+
+"You are my sworn knight," she said, laying her hand on his.
+
+"Until death!" he replied.
+
+"You promised to help me at any risk, in any difficulty, and now I am
+going to ask your aid."
+
+"It is yours. My whole life is yours," he cried. She smiled, sadly.
+
+"There are some things more valuable than life. Perhaps what I ask from
+you will cost you dear."
+
+"I do not care in the least what it costs," he said.
+
+"You are coming to dine with us; we do not dine this evening until
+eight. Come soon after six. I have a story to tell you."
+
+"I will not fail," he replied. "Do not be anxious, Lady Lisle, you look
+distressed. Trust in me; far as human aid can go, mine is yours."
+
+His clear blue eyes lingered on her perfect face, and again, for the
+second time in her life, the queen of coquettes felt something like pity
+for the man she was luring to his doom. She leaned back in the carriage
+after he was gone, with a most triumphant smile on her lips.
+
+"What wonders a pretty face can work," she thought. "I feel quite safe,
+now that my troubles are to rest on his broad shoulders. How I should
+like to see that Jules trampled upon and crushed. My knight will save
+me."
+
+She never remembered that he was the only son of his mother--a widow.
+She cared little that he was the head of a grand old race. She thought
+still less of his talents, his honest enthusiasm, his simplicity, except
+so far as it answered her purpose.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+Ladie Amelie's Story.
+
+
+A few hours later, and Lady Lisle was seated in her boudoir, exquisitely
+attired. She, who knew so well the effect of every fold in her dress, of
+every flower she wore or carried; she, who had studied the art of
+looking beautiful more completely than any other woman, had not
+neglected her most potent charm. She wore a dinner dress of white silk,
+with crimson flowers, that suited her dark, glowing beauty to
+perfection. An elegant toilet! No jewels, but a massive golden bracelet
+on one arm, and a golden chain of exquisite workmanship round her neck.
+
+"I knew you would come," she said, looking up with a smile as Basil was
+shown into her boudoir; "I knew you would not fail me. We shall have
+time for a long conversation. Lord Lisle never reaches home until a
+quarter of an hour before dinner, and then he has to hurry. Our guests
+will not arrive until nearly eight, so we shall not be interrupted."
+
+He looked round that little fairy nook, wondering at its elegance,
+wondering at the soft, rosy light, at the fragrance of the white
+daphnes, but more than all at the queenly loveliness of the beautiful
+woman before him.
+
+She sat in the very heart of the crimson glow, her glistening silken
+dress sweeping in rich waves, and quite sure that her attitude, like
+everything else about her, was perfect. She held out her hand to him,
+with a smile that would have bewildered any man older and wiser than he.
+
+"Sit down here," she said, pointing to a velvet fauteuil; "I am going to
+make you my judge. Ah, Basil, for this one night I may call you Basil;
+perhaps after you have heard what I have to say, you will never be my
+knight again; it may change you."
+
+"I shall belong to you, and ask no greater happiness than to serve you
+until I die," he replied,
+
+A fan lay on the table by her side, with jeweled handle, and made of
+white, soft feathers. She opened it and quietly stirred the warm,
+perfumed air.
+
+"I could only tell my trouble to you," she began, in her soft, caressing
+voice. "You will understand me, because you know what it is to have
+wishes, hopes and aspirations that are never realized. You know what it
+is to be unworldly and unlike others.
+
+"I was but a girl when I was married, Basil--an innocent, unsuspecting
+girl, just seventeen. I might plead, in excuse of what followed, that I
+was married without my own inclination being consulted--unwillingly
+sacrificed to money that never has done me any good, and never will. I
+might plead my youth, my unhappiness, the utter want of congeniality
+with the man I married; but I will not. You shall judge me without
+excuses. I must, however, tell you that at first, for the first two
+years of my married life, I was in despair. There seemed to me no hope,
+no respite--nothing but despair. Now I have grown accustomed to my
+misery, and can wear it with a smile; then it was otherwise. At that
+time I was first introduced to Count Jules Ste. Croix. I hate myself,"
+she continued, passionately, "when I remember how that man duped me. I
+did not think him handsome, although other ladies raved of his beaux
+yeux and his classical face.
+
+"But I liked him, Basil, because he had the art of expressing silent
+sympathy for me. He said nothing--if he had done so, my pride would have
+taken fire and I should have been saved--but all that other men say in
+passionate words, he conveyed to me in passionate looks. He was very
+kind to me; he used to visit us a great deal, and on several occasions
+he stood between me and Lord Lisle's fierce anger.
+
+"He knew all my distress, my troubles, my misery, as well as I know them
+myself. Let me tell you briefly, Basil, that at this unhappy time I
+wrote to him three letters--only three. I was so miserable, so wretched,
+that, unless I had opened my heart to some one, I must have died. Now
+listen, Basil, and do not wonder if I have ceased to believe in men. He
+answered them, and then, after a time, presumed upon my having written
+to him. Oh, Basil, if I could but spare myself the shame of telling you!
+He made a compact of friendship with me that nothing was ever to break.
+I was but a frightened child, and I made it. He asked me to lend him
+money. Oh, Basil, I was but a frightened, terrified girl, and I lent it!
+Then he tried to make love to me--he flattered me; he followed me like
+my shadow. But there I was firm; he could not frighten me into anything
+I thought wrong."
+
+"Why, the man is a villain!" cried Basil; "an unprincipled, cowardly
+villain!"
+
+"Wait," she said, laying her hand on his arm. "Wait; you have not heard
+all. He uses the three letters as a means of extorting money from me.
+Now he threatens that if I do not lend it to him, he will show them to
+my husband."
+
+Basil sprang from his seat, with a hot flush on his handsome young face.
+
+"I will shoot him!" he said. "Such a man is not fit to breathe the air
+of heaven."
+
+"Hush!" she said again. "You cannot help me unless you are calm. My
+husband does not love me, Basil. The least whisper of this, and,
+innocent as I am, I should be separated from him and disgraced. It is
+from this I want you to save me. If I were married to a noble, generous
+man, I should go to him at once, and tell him the truth. If Lord Lisle
+knew it, he would use it as a pretext for separating himself from me.
+Basil, you are my knight--you must save me; you must get those letters."
+
+"I will," he replied, "at any cost."
+
+"I tremble to think how much money, I, in my cowardly fear, have lent
+him. He will want more and more, until he has drained a fortune, and I
+shall be no safer in the end. I will lend him no more money, Basil; but
+you, my only friend, shall get the letters."
+
+"I will. How shall I do it! Oh, Lady Lisle, let me fight him--let me
+punish him as he deserves!"
+
+"No," she said; "he is too cunning. If you were to offer to fight with
+him, he would know it was for my sake, and he would so place the letters
+as to fall into my husband's hands if anything happened to him."
+
+But the hot flush did not fade from Basil's face.
+
+"I must thrash him," he cried.
+
+"No; for my sake, and because you would do me true service, you must
+not," she said.
+
+"I will give him all my fortune for the letters," he said.
+
+"That would not do--he would take your money first, then, holding the
+letters, would still want more. I will tell you the only plan by which
+you can help me. Go boldly into the room and bring the letters away."
+
+"But that looks so much like stealing them," he said. "Let me fight him
+and take them because I win."
+
+"No," she said, sadly. "If you will not help me, as I wish, I must
+forego all aid, and suffer on."
+
+"You have but to command," he cried, "and I will obey."
+
+"This is the count's address," she said. "Go into his rooms; you will
+find there an ivory casket; he keeps the letters there; he told me so."
+
+"I will do it," he said, quietly.
+
+A beautiful light came into her eyes.
+
+"I knew you would save me, Basil," she said, tenderly. "When will you do
+it?"
+
+"I will make my first essay tonight. I shall not rest again until it is
+done."
+
+"Go to his rooms," she said; "ask for him; if they tell you he is not
+in, say you will wait for him; then, while you are in the room, open the
+casket, take out the letters, destroy them at once, and send word to me
+when it is done. Do not stop to think whether I am right, whether it is
+the better plan, but do it at once, because I have said so."
+
+"I will do it," he replied. Then she saw a shadow fall over his face.
+"There is nothing really in them, I suppose, Lady Lisle?"
+
+"Nothing," she said, "but the cry of a woman's breaking heart! Enough to
+ruin me, should my husband ever come to know it."
+
+"That he never shall; they shall be destroyed. If I die for it, they
+shall be destroyed."
+
+"Ah, me," she said; "had ever liege lady so true a knight? Basil, how
+shall I thank you?"
+
+"The pleasure of serving you will be thanks enough," he replied.
+
+"Ah, generous knight, noble knight, who shall say true chivalry is
+dead?" And she praised him, she flattered him, she thanked him until the
+slight doubt that had occurred to him died away and he was ashamed of
+it.
+
+He thought of nothing but obeying her. It was sadly against his high
+English spirit to steal into a man's room and take from it; he would
+have preferred fighting until one or the other lay dead. But she had
+said nay, and it could not be. That very evening he called and was told
+the count was not in; the day following he repeated the call, and the
+servant, as he had said at the trial, was suspicious, not recognizing
+him as one of his master's friends.
+
+He called another evening, and, owing to the fact of there being a new
+servant, he was admitted into the count's room. It was empty, although
+the gas was burning. He saw the little ivory casket, and with one stroke
+of his strong, young hand, opened it.
+
+There lay the letters, underneath a watch and ring. He obeyed her; he
+did not lose one instant. He emptied the casket, carried the letters to
+the lighted gas, and burned them! Just as he had raised the watch and
+ring in his hand to replace them, the door opened and the count, with
+his servant, entered the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+The Trap Closed.
+
+
+The count did not utter one word. He saw at one glance what had been
+done. He recognized the young gentleman whom he had sneered at as Lady
+Amelie's victim. He understood at once what had been done.
+
+"She had asked him to destroy the letters, and he has done it," he said
+to himself. In one moment he had formed his scheme of revenge. He would
+give the young man in charge for stealing his watch and ring. If he
+cleared himself at all, he must tell the truth. He must tell that he had
+not come there to steal a watch, but to destroy Lady Lisle's letters.
+
+"If he confesses that," said the quick-witted count to himself, "she
+will be doubly disgraced; if he declines to confess, I am at least
+revenged upon him." So, until the entrance of the policeman, the two men
+stood and glared at each other.
+
+"You can save yourself," said the count, "if you will confess what you
+came for, and if you will write that confession down."
+
+Basil smiled contemptuously. "Of what do you charge me?" he said.
+
+"I shall charge you with stealing my watch and ring," was the reply.
+
+"Knowing I am innocent?"
+
+"The alternative lies before you. Confess, as I have said, and Lady
+Amelie suffers; deny, and you go to prison for stealing."
+
+It seemed to him far easier. "I will go to prison," he thought, "I can
+give a false name; no one will know me. There will be no fuss, no stir,
+nothing known, and she, my queen, will be saved."
+
+Of course there was no common sense in such a proceeding, nothing but
+enthusiasm and romance. He certainly had not calculated upon the fact
+being known. He had really believed the false name would shield him. He
+found means through a heavy bribe to send one word to Lady Amelie; it
+was merely the word, "Destroyed.--B.C." But it gave the queen of
+coquettes a sense of security she had not enjoyed for long. While Basil
+still lay in prison, Count Jules sought her.
+
+"You have baffled me, my lady," he said.
+
+"Yes," was the calm reply, "I have checkmated you, count. You will
+extort no more money from me, nor will you threaten me again."
+
+"Well," said the count, "I confess myself beaten, and I am not a good
+man, either, my Lady Amelie, but sooner than have blighted that young
+man's life, as you have done, I would have suffered anything."
+
+"My dear count," said Lady Amelie, philosophically, "some men seem, by
+fate and by nature, destined to be used as a cat's-paw."
+
+Count Jules was baffled; his only hold upon the rich and beautiful Lady
+Amelie was broken. What those letters contained was known only to the
+lady and himself. If simply the written expressions of her own
+unhappiness, he placed more value on them than they were worth. The
+chances are that they held more than that.
+
+He was entirely defeated--they had been his last resources for long. He
+had never failed, by means of them, to extort money from Lady Lisle at
+pleasure. It was useless to threaten any more. She had but to dare him
+to bring forth his proofs, and he had not one word to say.
+
+His only consolation was, that in revenge, he had completely blighted
+the young hero's life, for hero he was, although his heroism was of a
+mistaken kind.
+
+And Lady Amelie--did she feel any regret for the young life tarnished?
+She missed a very pleasant companion, an enthusiastic adorer, but as
+fortune would have it, there came to England a young Roman prince, who
+was both artist and poet, handsome as a Greek god, and wealthy beyond
+compare. His appearance created a perfect furore in fashionable society,
+and he, as a matter of course, fell in love with Lady Amelie, so that
+she soon forgot the young knight who languished in prison. When the
+season was over, she persuaded her husband to go to Rome, and never left
+even a line or a message for the mistaken young man who had done so much
+for her.
+
+She only did what suited her; she was the queen of coquettes, and she
+made him useful to her; nothing else mattered.
+
+The lonely months wore on very slowly for Basil. At first the notion of
+heroism and the conviction that he was performing a most noble and
+chivalrous deed sustained him; but there was a fund of common sense in
+his character, and this common sense suggested to him that instead of
+being a hero, he had been the dupe of a wily coquette. Not at first did
+this idea strike him; not until long, dreary weeks had passed, and she
+had never sent him even one message of thanks or sympathy. He was very
+angry with the idea at first, thinking it quite a false one, but
+gradually he awakened to the conviction that it was true.
+
+Then his fortitude forsook him, and it was some consolation to hear from
+Mr. Forster that what the kind-hearted lawyer called his
+misrepresentations had been effectual. People had almost forgotten that
+little paragraph that had one morning taken London by storm.
+
+"I have denied it so constantly and emphatically," he said, "that my
+words have been believed. As soon as you get out of here, make haste
+abroad, then all may be well."
+
+Even he could not help seeing how entirely the light and brightness had
+faded from the young face.
+
+"I have never said anything to you," said Mr. Forster, one morning, "but
+I have a certain conviction, Mr, Carruthers, that there is some woman in
+this; you are here for a woman's sake and to screen her from blame; if
+so, it is useless asking you to tell the truth, I know, but make the
+best of it; get out of this as soon as you can."
+
+He did so. When the six months were over, "John Smith" was discharged
+and did not linger many hours in London; he went at once to Paris, and
+there made out where Lady Amelie was.
+
+"In Rome," replied the gentleman of whom he asked the question. "Her
+last caprice was a young Roman prince, and they are settled there for
+the winter." To Rome he resolved to go. He would see for himself whether
+she was all that his dreaming fancy had painted her, or whether she was
+what men said--a heartless coquette.
+
+He went to Rome, and found her, as usual, queen of all that was most
+brilliant and gay.
+
+It was at a soiree given by the Duchessa Sforza. He saw her again,
+beautiful, radiant and magnificent. By her side stood a young man, who
+was handsome as one of the grand old statutes that ornamented the
+galleries of Rome. He watched her, thinking bitterly of the time that
+had passed since be looked his last on that radiant face, and all the
+bitter shame that had been his portion since then.
+
+He crossed the room and went over to her. Whatever dismay she may have
+felt, she showed none. She looked up with a bright, cold smile, as
+though they had parted but yesterday.
+
+"Mr. Carruthers!" she said. "I hope you are well. I really believe that
+half of England is coming to Rome."
+
+"Can you wonder," said the prince, "when England's fairest queen is
+here?"
+
+Lady Amelie introduced the two gentlemen, and after a time the prince
+went away. Then she turned her lovely face to the young man she had
+duped so cleverly.
+
+"How do you like Rome?" she asked,
+
+"I cannot talk commonplace to you, Lady Lisle," he said; "I have come
+from England purposely to see you,"
+
+She looked slightly impatient.
+
+"Ah," she replied. "Of course I am very much obliged to you; but you
+must have been terribly imprudent. Could you not have managed without
+being discovered in that suspicious attitude? I was so grievously
+distressed. You are too quixotic--you seek needless dangers."
+
+That was the extent of her gratitude to the man who had saved her
+reputation, character, and fair fame.
+
+"I did not compromise you," he said. "I preferred imprisonment to that."
+
+"Yes; but it was quixotic; there was no need for anything of the kind."
+
+"I am very sorry to have erred from excess of zeal," he replied,
+sarcastically. "It is a comfort to me to think that I shall not so
+offend again."
+
+"I hope," she said, more anxiously, "that it will not injure you--that
+no one will know about it. It was really too shocking. Prison for a
+young man of your position! It was absurd."
+
+"I thought so myself, before I came out; it was absurd; but you will be
+comforted to know, Lady Amelie, that no one seems to have known of it
+but my mother, Lady Carruthers, and my lawyer, Mr. Forster. So far as
+the world is concerned, I am safe."
+
+The prince returned, looking slightly jealous, and then Basil amused
+himself, after a bitter fashion. He watched Lady Amelie playing off all
+her airs, graces, and fascinations on the young prince, as she had
+played them upon him. He was cured. It was a bitter lesson, but it
+lasted him. He began to understand the difference between romance and
+reality--between dreaming and doing. It had been a hard, bitter, almost
+shameful, lesson, but he was thankful in after years that he had learned
+it.
+
+He found, after a time, that the world was wiser than he thought.
+
+"There is some story about Mr. Carruthers," people would say, but no one
+ever knew exactly what it was. He remained in Rome for a whole week.
+Before it was over he was quite cured of his liking for the queen of
+coquettes.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+The Denouement.
+
+
+Then Basil Carruthers set himself busily to work to discover how he
+might best undo the effects of his folly. The duties he had thought so
+lightly of rose before him now.
+
+"I will go down to Ulverston," he said to himself, "and with God's help
+I will be a wiser and a better man."
+
+He saw what his mistaken notions of chivalry had done for him--how
+completely they had misled him--how near they had brought him to ruin
+and disgrace. The meeting between mother and son was not the most
+pleasant in the world. Lady Carruthers, stately, sensitive, and proud,
+could not forgive the dark disgrace under which her son had lain. He saw
+how deeply she felt it.
+
+"Mother," he said, "you must judge me leniently. I own myself mistaken.
+I think, sometimes, I must have been mad, I cannot tell you precisely
+what took me to prison. Will you believe me that it was for a woman's
+sake?"
+
+"I knew it!" she interrupted.
+
+"It was to screen a woman's folly," he continued. "And, indeed, wrong as
+I was, I believed myself to be doing a most chivalrous deed."
+
+"It is a great pity, Basil," said Lady Carruthers.
+
+"Yes," he said, quietly; "but I was a woman's dupe, and I have suffered
+enough. It was one false step, but I shall spend my life in trying to
+redeem it."
+
+He kept his word. In four years' time the name of Basil Carruthers rang
+through the land with a pleasant sound; he had, indeed, found something
+to do.
+
+He was returned for the borough of Rutsford, and his fame as an able and
+eloquent orator spread over the country.
+
+Then he studied to become a model landlord; he built large, airy
+cottages and schools; he paid the attention that every landlord ought to
+pay that the land be well drained, well cultivated. He was a friend to
+all his tenants, a benefactor to his dependants. In the course of time
+people forgot to whisper there had been some story about Mr. Carruthers;
+they only mentioned him in terms of praise. The very quality that his
+mother once thought would be against him now proved to be in his favor.
+If he was more romantic, more enthusiastic than other young men, he
+employed the superabundance of his gifts to excellent purpose.
+
+After some years there was a grand wedding at Ulverston. Basil
+Carruthers won Marion Hautville for his wife. Before they were married
+he took her one afternoon for a long ramble in the green summer woods
+and told her this story. Marion was shocked at first; it seemed to her
+impossible that a man could be so foolish as to mistake a deed like that
+for chivalry.
+
+"And what has become of your lovely Lady Amelie now?" she asked.
+
+"She is still the queen of coquettes," replied Basil; "but, Marion,
+although it was a terrible mistake, and I suffered so bitterly for it, I
+cannot be altogether sorry that it happened. I should have been a
+useless dreamer until the day of my death if this had not taken place.
+It was a rude, rough, but sure awakening."
+
+"I shall never call you my knight," said Marion. "Why, Basil, dear, a
+schoolboy would not have been taken in by such nonsense."
+
+"But, Marion, I was not so wise as a schoolboy," he replied.
+
+"She only used you for her own purposes. She simply made a cat's-paw of
+you, Basil."
+
+"I can see it now, darling, I did not then. But you will forgive me,
+Marion?"
+
+"Yes; because, after all, though you were so greatly mistaken, still the
+faults that led to your mistake were almost virtues."
+
+Lady Carruthers was rendered very happy by her son's marriage. When Mrs.
+Carruthers went to London, she proved to be Lady Amelie's greatest
+rival. She was quite as beautiful, as witty, as clever, but in place of
+coquetry, she was gifted with honest simplicity, that men pronounced
+charming, while Lady Amelie, to her great chagrin, began to find her
+attractions on the wane. Men grew tired of her vanity and her cruelty.
+Women disliked her for her selfish disregard of everything but her own
+triumph.
+
+Basil Carruthers bows his head in shame and contrition when he remembers
+this episode in his career. Then Marion, his wife, kisses him with a
+smile, and tells him he is not much the worse for having been once upon
+a time a coquette's victim.
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
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+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Coquette's Victim, by Charlotte M. Braeme
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Coquette's Victim
+
+Author: Charlotte M. Braeme
+
+Release Date: July 12, 2004 [EBook #12886]
+[Last updated: September 21, 2013]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COQUETTE'S VICTIM ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Steven desJardins and Distributed Proofreaders.
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<h4>EVERYDAY LIFE LIBRARY No.1</h4>
+
+<h4>Published by EVERYDAY LIFE, Chicago</h4>
+
+<h1>THE COQUETTE'S VICTIM</h1>
+
+<h2>BY CHARLOTTE M. BRAEME</h2>
+
+<br />
+
+<center>
+<img src='images/coquette.jpg' width='436' height='515' alt='frontispiece' title=''>
+</center>
+
+<br />
+
+<h4><a href='#CHAPTER_I'><b>CHAPTER I.&mdash;The Trial.</b></a><br />
+<a href='#CHAPTER_II'><b>CHAPTER II.&mdash;The Sentence.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#CHAPTER_III'><b>CHAPTER III.&mdash;The Papers Again.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#CHAPTER_IV'><b>CHAPTER IV.&mdash;Ulverston Priory.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#CHAPTER_V'><b>CHAPTER V.&mdash;Lady Carruthers.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#CHAPTER_VI'><b>CHAPTER VI.&mdash;Youth Full of Beauty and Promise.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#CHAPTER_VII'><b>CHAPTER VII.&mdash;A Modern Bayard.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#CHAPTER_VIII'><b>CHAPTER VIII.&mdash;Lady Amelie at Home.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#CHAPTER_IX'><b>CHAPTER IX.&mdash;Weaving the Spell.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#CHAPTER_X'><b>CHAPTER X.&mdash;Deeper and Deeper Still.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#CHAPTER_XI'><b>CHAPTER XI.&mdash;How the Plot Succeeded.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#CHAPTER_XII'><b>CHAPTER XII.&mdash;Caught in the Snare.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#CHAPTER_XIII'><b>CHAPTER XIII.&mdash;Ladie Amelie's Story.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#CHAPTER_XIV'><b>CHAPTER XIV.&mdash;The Trap Closed.</b></a><br />
+ <a href='#CHAPTER_XV'><b>CHAPTER XV.&mdash;The Denouement.</b></a></h4>
+
+<br />
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<br />
+<a name='CHAPTER_I'></a><h3>CHAPTER I.</h3>
+
+<h4>The Trial.</h4>
+<br />
+
+<p>Mr. Kent was a very able magistrate. He had sat on the bench for many
+years and was considered a man of great legal attainments and skill. He
+very seldom erred in his judgment, and being gifted with a natural
+shrewdness, he saw the difference at once between a guilty and an
+innocent man.</p>
+
+<p>He rarely erred; long practice had made him an adept in reading faces.</p>
+
+<p>But on this morning, the fourteenth of May, he was puzzled. Many cases
+had been brought before him. Drunken men dismissed with a fine and a
+reprimand, thieves sentenced to weeks or months of imprisonment, wives
+with pale faces and bruised arms had given reluctant evidence against
+husbands who had promised to love and cherish them until death.</p>
+
+<p>It was a bright May morning, and the sun did his best to pour through
+the dusky windows of the police court; a faint beam fell on the stolid
+faces of the policemen and ushers of the court, the witnesses and the
+lookers-on; a faint beam that yet, perhaps, brought many messages of
+bright promise to those present.</p>
+
+<p>A little boy had been sent on an errand with sixpence and had stolen the
+money; with many sobs and tears he confessed that he had spent it in
+cakes. Mr. Kent looked at the tear-stained face; the untidy brown head
+scarcely reached to the table, and the good magistrate thought, with
+something like pain at his heart, of a fair-haired boy at home. So he
+spoke kindly to the poor, trembling prisoner, and while he strongly
+reprimanded, still encouraged him to better ways. The boy was removed,
+and then Mr. Kent was puzzled by the prisoner who took his place.</p>
+
+<p>A tall, handsome young man, apparently not more than twenty, with a
+clear-cut aristocratic face, and luminous dark gray eyes. A face that no
+one could look into without admiration&mdash;that irresistibly attracted man,
+woman and child. He was a gentleman&mdash;there could be no mistake about it.
+That clear-cut Norman face had descended to him from a long line of
+ancestors; the well-built, manly figure, with its peculiar easy grace
+and dignity told of ancient lineage and noble birth.</p>
+
+<p>His hands were white, slender and strong, with almond-shaped
+nails&mdash;hands that had never been soiled with labor, and surely never
+stained with crime.</p>
+
+<p>He carried his handsome head high; it was proudly set on a firm,
+graceful neck, and covered with clusters of dark hair. He would have
+looked in his place near the throne of a queen, or, on the back of a war
+horse, leading a forlorn hope; but no one could understand his being
+prisoner in a dock. Mr. Kent looked at him, wondering with what he was
+charged. Surely, with that noble face and gentlemanly bearing, he had
+never been guilty of a common assault. Magistrate as he was, Mr. Kent
+listened to the recital of the charge, with some curiosity.</p>
+
+<p>Jules St. Croix, Count of the French Empire, charged the prisoner at the
+bar with having broken into his rooms for the purpose of robbery. He had
+been discovered in the count's drawing-room, where he had forced open an
+ivory casket and stolen the contents, which were an ancient and valuable
+gold watch and a gold ring, also of considerable value. At the moment
+that the count, followed by his servant, entered the room, the prisoner
+had these articles in his hand. He dropped them immediately, but the
+count, hastily calling for the police, gave him in charge.</p>
+
+<p>There was a smell of burned paper in the room and it was nearly eleven
+at night.</p>
+
+<p>The magistrate asked if the prisoner had made any resistance. Policeman
+C. No. 14, answered, &quot;No, he gave in at once; and came straight away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Kent asked again: &quot;Was there anything in the casket beside the
+jewelry?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It seemed to be a very insignificant question, but the prisoner and the
+count looked steadfastly at each other and both answered: &quot;No.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There were two witnesses. Robert Bolton, the count's servant, and C. No.
+14, the policeman. The evidence of the servant was taken first. He said
+that the prisoner had called several times to see his master, always
+coming when the count was from home; that he had, before, made one or
+two efforts to get into the count's room, but that he, the servant, had
+always refused him permission.</p>
+
+<p>On this evening the count went out early, and Robert Bolton having some
+errands to do, followed his master. About ten o'clock the prisoner
+called at the house, No. 24 Cambridge Terrace, and asked to speak to
+Count St. Croix. The landlady of the house told him the count was from
+home; then the prisoner said:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know. I will go to his room and wait there for him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The landlady, believing him to be a perfect gentleman, allowed him to
+go up to the count's room. Robert Bolton returned home just as his
+master was at the door; when the landlady told him a gentleman was
+waiting there, it flashed instantly into his mind there was something
+wrong. He hastily told his suspicions to the count and they ran upstairs
+together. Opening the door quickly, they found the prisoner with the
+casket in one hand and the watch in the other. There was an odor of
+burnt paper in the room.</p>
+
+<p>The count immediately opened the window and called for the police. C.
+No. 14 was just passing, and in marvelously quick time he ran upstairs.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This man has gotten into my room on false pretences,&quot; said the count.
+&quot;He is a stranger to me. I give him in charge for breaking open my
+casket and stealing a watch and ring from it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What did the prisoner say.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He pointed to the watch and ring, and said: 'There they are;' then he
+looked at the count with a smile.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Did he seem frightened?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not the least in the world,&quot; was the answer; &quot;just the contrary.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What happened next?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The prisoner told him he must consider himself a prisoner on the charge
+of stealing a watch. He laughed aloud and walked away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The landlady of the house, the policeman and the count all gave the same
+evidence. It seemed very clear against him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What have you to say?&quot; asked, the magistrate of the prisoner.</p>
+
+<p>He raised his luminous gray eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not one word,&quot; he replied, in a clear, refined voice.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What is your name? I see you have refused to give any.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>For the first time the prisoner's face flushed crimson, and the count
+smiled malignantly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My name is&mdash;John Smith,&quot; he replied, and again the count smiled.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your address?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He gave some number and street which every one knew to be false.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your occupation?&quot; asked the magistrate again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have none&mdash;that is, no settled occupation,&quot; he replied.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Have you no lawyer to defend you?&quot; asked Mr. Kent.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I require none,&quot; said the prisoner; &quot;I have no defense. All that Count
+Jules St. Croix says is true; he found me in his room with the open
+casket in my hand.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You had gone there for the purpose of robbery?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have not a word to answer.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You can surely give some account of your presence there?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The prisoner smiled again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I refuse to do so,&quot; he replied, with great firmness, yet courtesy of
+manner.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then I must commit you for trial,&quot; said the magistrate. &quot;Have you no
+witnesses to bring forward in your own defense now, as to character&mdash;no
+referees?&quot; he continued.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;None,&quot; was the quiet reply.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am sorry,&quot; said Mr. Kent; &quot;to see one who is so evidently a
+gentleman and a man of education in such a position.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But there was no shame in the handsome face; none in the proud eyes. He
+raised his head with haughty grace and made no reply.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can take bail,&quot; said Mr. Kent, but the prisoner said, &quot;I have none to
+offer.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then was the good magistrate puzzled. He had no resource but to commit
+the young man to take his trial at the Sessions. Yet looking at the
+clear, aristocratic face, and the firm, proud lips, he could have sworn
+that the prisoner was perfectly innocent of the theft.</p>
+
+<p>He read pride, honesty, loyalty and chivalry in the face, yet there was
+nothing left for him to do but to commit him.</p>
+
+<p>He looked very grave as he did so, and then John Smith was taken away by
+the policeman. As he left the dock he turned to his accuser, the Count
+St. Croix, who stood there with a dark frown on his face; he looked at
+him for one moment, then waved his hand, as one who had won a great
+victory.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have conquered,&quot; he said, and the count's sallow face grew pale with
+rage,</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Curse you,&quot; he said, between his teeth, &quot;I should like to stand with my
+foot on your neck.&quot;</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<br />
+
+<a name='CHAPTER_II'></a><h3>CHAPTER II.</h3>
+
+<h4>The Sentence.</h4>
+<br />
+
+<p>John Smith&mdash;for the prisoner was known by no other name&mdash;lay in prison
+until the time for his trial. He had not long to wait, but he made no
+complaint. He seemed perfectly at his ease&mdash;much more so than was Mr.
+Kent. In vain the good magistrate said to himself that it was no
+business of his; that he had nothing whatever to do with the case, he
+had simply performed his duty&mdash;done what was required of him. Yet he
+could not feel satisfied; he was sure there was a mystery, and he longed
+to fathom it.</p>
+
+<p>He resolved to go and see the young man, and ask him more questions, to
+try to ascertain who he really was. He went to his cell and the prisoner
+looked at him in utter surprise.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have come purposely,&quot; said Mr. Kent, &quot;to see if I cannot induce you
+to tell the truth over this affair. I will call you John Smith, if you
+like, yet I am sure you are a gentleman; you will not deny that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I neither admit nor deny anything,&quot; was the smiling reply; &quot;I have made
+up my mind that there will be a certain punishment, and I shall go
+through it like a brave man.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Have you well considered what degradation that punishment will bring
+upon you as long as you live?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>His face flushed hotly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Since you ask me,&quot; he answered, &quot;I tell you frankly, no; I had not
+thought of that part of the business at all&mdash;it never even occurred to
+me; my thoughts were all otherwise engrossed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You should take it into consideration,&quot; said the magistrate. &quot;I know
+nothing of what your position in society may be, but remember, you
+voluntarily cut yourself off from all association with even respectable
+people; a man who has been in prison cannot expect the countenance or
+fellowship of his fellow-men.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I suppose you are right,&quot; replied the young man; &quot;although, believe me,
+never a thought of this occurred to me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Now, would it not be better to tell the truth? Have you done it for a
+wager? is it the trick of a foolish young man? or were you really
+tempted to steal the watch?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Something like a smile curved his handsome lips.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I cannot tell you,&quot; he replied. &quot;I am deeply grateful for your kind
+interest&mdash;indeed, I shall never forget it; but I cannot, in return, tell
+you one word.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then I can do nothing to help you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; he answered slowly; &quot;you could not help sending me for trial. Will
+you tell me what the probable result will be, supposing, as a matter of
+course, that I am found guilty?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Most probably, six months imprisonment, without hard labor, if it be a
+first offence.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is the first of its kind,&quot; was the smiling reply.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will not let me help you, then, in any way?&quot; said Mr. Kent.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is nothing you can do for me,&quot; said the young man, gratefully.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you take my advice,&quot; continued the magistrate, &quot;you will send for
+some clever lawyer; tell him the truth, whatever it may be, and while
+preserving your incognito, he may be able to do something for you. I
+should certainly do so in your place.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I think not,&quot; he replied; &quot;the less stir made about it the better.
+Surely in the crowd of a criminal court and in the prison dress, I shall
+escape recognition?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;An admission,&quot; thought the magistrate, &quot;that he has concealed his
+identity.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I cannot tell; I think it doubtful.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, whatever comes, I shall always he grateful to you, Mr. Kent, for
+your interest in me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am sorry you will not trust me,&quot; said the magistrate, rising to leave
+the cell.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am still more sorry that I cannot,&quot; was the reply, and then the
+prisoner was left alone.</p>
+
+<p>He did not look much like a thief; there was a light on his face such as
+one sees in the pictures of the martyrs, a clear fire in the gray eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My ancestors have smiled with their heads on a block,&quot; he said.
+&quot;Surely, with such a motive, I may bear six months of prison.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The day of his trial came. The report of it in the papers read as
+follows:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;John Smith, aged twenty, occupation unknown, was charged by Count Jules
+St. Croix with stealing from his room an ivory casket, containing a
+watch and an antique ring of great value. The prisoner, who refused to
+give any account of himself, pleaded guilty; he made no defence, and had
+retained no counsel. The judge made a few remarks to the effect that it
+was very hard to see a young man, evidently possessed of some education
+and refinement, in such a position, then sentenced him to six months'
+imprisonment without hard labor. Prisoner made no remark, and was then
+removed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The papers did not tell of a little incident that occurred, simply
+because the reporters did not know it. During the hearing of the case,
+which did not last long, one of the leading barristers, Mr. Macfarlane,
+sat with his eyes riveted on the prisoner's face, his own growing very
+pale and anxious; then he wrote a little note, which he dispatched by a
+messenger, who soon returned, accompanied by Mr. Forster, one of the
+most celebrated lawyers in Lincoln's Inn.</p>
+
+<p>He spoke a few words to Mr. Macfarlane.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nonsense!&quot; he said; &quot;the idea is incredible, impossible, even. What can
+have made you think of such a thing?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Stand here in my place; you cannot see over all those heads. Now look
+well at him. Am I right or wrong?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A strange gray look came over Mr. Forster's face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I&mdash;I believe you are right,&quot; he said. &quot;My God! what can this mean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Look now! his face is turned this way! Look!&quot; cried Mr. Macfarlane,
+eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is he!&quot; cried the lawyer, and he stood like one turned to stone,
+then recovering himself, he said quickly:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why is he here? What is he charged with?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Macfarlane whispered into the lawyer's ear:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;With stealing a watch and ring from the room of Count Jules St. Croix.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Absurd!&quot; was the reply, in accents of the deepest contempt; &quot;what
+idiotic nonsense! He steal a watch! I could believe myself mad or
+dreaming.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then,&quot; said Mr. Macfarlane. &quot;he has pleaded guilty; he has made no
+defence, engaged no counsel.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The boy is mad! completely mad!&quot; cried the lawyer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hush!&quot; said the barrister; &quot;the judge is speaking.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Forster stood in a most impatient mood, while the grave, clear voice
+of the judge sentenced the prisoner. Then he turned to the barrister
+abruptly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I tell you,&quot; he cried, &quot;the boy is mad! Steal a watch! Why, he could
+buy one-half the watches in London if he liked. I must see him. Come
+this way.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; said Mr. Macfarlane, &quot;he evidently does not wish to be known. I
+shall not go near him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If he got into trouble, why in the world did he not send for me or for
+some one else?&quot; said the lawyer to himself. &quot;It must be a young man's
+frolic, a wager, a bet. He has spirit enough for anything. He never
+could have been such a mad fool as to wreck his life for a paltry
+watch.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Forster went to the room, where with other prisoners, John Smith
+stood, awaiting his removal in the prison van. He went up to him and
+touched him on the shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is it really you?&quot; he cried, and the luminous gray eyes smiled into
+his.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah! Forster, I am sorry to see you. What has brought you here?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is you,&quot; said the lawyer. &quot;I was in hopes that my senses deceived
+me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I hope you will keep the fact of having seen me here a profound
+secret.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But in the name of heaven, what does it mean?&quot; cried Mr. Forster. &quot;You
+know you have not attempted to steal a watch. Pardon me, but how dare
+you plead guilty? You will cover yourself with disgrace and infamy. You
+will break your mother's heart. You will be utterly ruined for life.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear Forster, no one knows of my being here, and no one need know
+except yourself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are mistaken; you have been recognized. I was sent for to identify
+you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then the proud face did grow pale, but the proud light did not die out
+of the gray eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am sorry for it, but I cannot help it. I must 'dree my weird.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Forster stood looking at him like one stupefied.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If the sun had fallen from the heavens,&quot; he said, &quot;it would not have
+surprised me more. Surely, surely you are going to trust me and tell me
+what this means?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I cannot. Go on with everything just the same. Tell my mother I have
+gone abroad for six months, and if you value my name, keep my secret
+from spreading, if you can.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And then a rough voice called John Smith to the prison van.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<br />
+
+<a name='CHAPTER_III'></a><h3>CHAPTER III.</h3>
+
+<h4>The Papers Again.</h4>
+<br />
+
+<p>Mr. Foster went home in a terrible rage. His clerks could not imagine
+what had happened. He looked pale, worried, anxious and miserable. &quot;I
+should not think,&quot; he said to himself, &quot;that such a thing ever happened
+in the world before.&quot; His clients thought him bad tempered; he had the
+air of a man with whom everything had gone wrong&mdash;out of sorts with all
+the world.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The man is mad,&quot; he said to himself, with a shrug of his shoulders;
+&quot;neither more nor less than mad to fling away his life and disgrace his
+name. It is useless to think it will never be known; those stupid papers
+are sure to get hold of it, and then there is little chance of secrecy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He went about his work with a very unsettled, wretched expression on his
+shrewd face. Something or other had evidently disturbed him very much.
+While on his part John Smith, with the same light in his face and the
+same fire in his eyes, went off in the prison van.</p>
+
+<p>He heard very little of what was going on around him. He seemed to be
+quite apart in some dreamland, some world of his own. When the coarse
+suit of prison clothes was brought to him, instead of the disgust the
+attendants expected to see, there came over his face a smile. To himself
+he said: &quot;I could almost kiss them for her sweet sake.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That man is no thief,&quot; said one of the warders. &quot;I do not care if they
+did catch him with the watch in his hand, he is no thief! I know the
+stamp!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>How he passed that first day and night was best known to himself. The
+jailer who brought his breakfast the next morning said, &quot;You look
+tired.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He smiled and said to himself, &quot;I would have gone to death for her sweet
+sake! This will be easy to bear.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>When that same morning dawned Mr. Forster was all impatience for his
+newspaper. Twice he rang the bell and asked if it had come, and when the
+servant brought it up he looked at it eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Give it to me quickly,&quot; he said. Then he opened it, and was soon
+engrossed in the contents. Suddenly he flung it down, and almost stamped
+upon it in his rage.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I knew it would be so! Now it will be blazoned all over England! What
+can have possessed him?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The paragraph that excited his attention and anger ran as follows:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We are informed on good authority that the John Smith tried yesterday
+on the charge of stealing a watch is no less a person than Basil
+Carruthers, Esquire, the owner of Ulverston Priory, and head of one of
+the oldest families in England.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What can I do?&quot; cried Mr. Forster; &quot;it will break his mother's heart;
+she can never forget it. He is ruined for life. For a lawyer, I am
+strangely unwilling to tell a lie; but it must be done! He must be saved
+at any price!&quot; He went to his desk and wrote the following note:</p>
+
+<div class='blkquot'><p>&quot;To the Editor of 'The Times':
+
+<p>     &quot;Sir: I beg to call your attention to a paragraph that appears in
+     'The Times' of today stating that a man, tried under the name of
+     John Smith for stealing a watch, is no less a person than Basil
+     Carruthers, Esq., of Ulverston Priory. As the solicitor of that
+     family, and manager of the Ulverston property, I beg to contradict
+     it. Mr. Carruthers, himself, informed me of his intention to go
+     abroad. Without doubt his indignant denial will follow mine. I am,
+     sir, etc.,</p>
+
+<p>     &quot;Herbert Forster.&quot;</p></div>
+
+<p>&quot;That may help him,&quot; he said. &quot;I do not like doing it, but I cannot see
+my old friend's son perish without trying to save him. I may fail, but I
+must try. Perhaps my lie may be blotted out, like Uncle Toby's oath. If
+I can persuade him to send a denial, and date it Paris or Vienna, he
+will be saved.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Forster lost no time in applying for an order to see the prisoner.
+It was granted at once.</p>
+
+<p>Basil Carruthers&mdash;we may use his right name now&mdash;looked up in surprise
+when Mr. Forster, with the paper in his hand, entered the cell.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Back again?&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes; it is just as I expected; the papers have got hold of your name,
+and there is a grand expose.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Basil held out his hand and read the paragraph.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is enough to make your father rise up from his grave,&quot; said the
+lawyer; &quot;I cannot understand what madness, what infatuation, has come
+over you, to drag such a proud name as yours through the dust.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;So it is known,&quot; said Basil, slowly. &quot;Well, I cannot help it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have done my best,&quot; said Mr. Forster. &quot;I have never yet asked you if
+you stole the watch&mdash;the idea is too absurd.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;They are so far right that I was found in the room; nothing else
+matters.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can only imagine that the same folly which has brought you here will
+keep you here,&quot; said Mr. Forster. &quot;The only thing to be done is to send
+a denial to the papers. If you will write one, I will go to Paris myself
+to post it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Basil Carruthers laughed contemptuously.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I shield myself behind a lie!&quot; he said. &quot;Never!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are too late,&quot; replied Mr. Forster; &quot;I have already written, and
+sent, a very indignant denial, saying you have gone abroad.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Basil's face grew pale, as it had not done during that trial; then an
+angry fire flashed from his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And you have dared to do this?&quot; he cried. &quot;You have dared to publish a
+lie to screen a Carruthers?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I would have dared a great deal more to have saved you from public
+ignominy,&quot; said Mr. Forster.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do not apply that word to me!&quot; said Basil, angrily.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If I do not, every one else will. Your position is ignominious, Mr.
+Carruthers; the paltry crime you are charged with is the same; and the
+name that for centuries has been honored in England will be low in the
+dust, sir. I would rather have been dead than have seen such a day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The handsome young face changed slightly; evidently these thoughts had
+not occurred to him; he seemed to seek solace from some inward source of
+comfort of which the lawyer knew nothing.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I must bear it,&quot; he said, unflinchingly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is but one thing you can do,&quot; said Mr. Forster; &quot;only one means
+of escape&mdash;write a letter at once containing a most indignant denial of
+the identity. I will go myself purposely to Paris and post it there.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear Forster,&quot; said the young man with a smile of languid contempt,
+&quot;I would not ransom my life, even, with a lie!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;In my opinion,&quot; said the lawyer, bluntly, &quot;you have done worse in
+pleading guilty&mdash;you have acted a lie, at least.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know my own motive. I am the best judge of my own actions.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Certainly,&quot; was the sarcastic reply. &quot;I should not think any young man
+of your prospects was ever in such a position before.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Perhaps, as I said before, no man ever had the same motive,&quot; and a look
+of heroism and high resolve came over his face which astonished the
+lawyer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;In the name of your dead father,&quot; he said, &quot;who held the honor of his
+house so dear, I pray of you to write that letter!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not to save my head from the block!&quot; he replied. &quot;I am here, and I must
+bear all that follows. I had hoped to preserve my incognito. If I
+cannot, well, I must bear the shame.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And your mother?&quot; asked the lawyer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My poor mother! Perhaps, after all, you had better go down to Ulverston
+and tell her! She will begin to wonder where I am. Besides, the London
+house must be attended to.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If I know Lady Carruthers rightly,&quot; said the lawyer, &quot;she will never
+get over the blow.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Tell her that I am here, and why, but tell her also that I refuse to
+give an explanation to any human being. Tell her the honor of the
+Carruthers seals my lips; try to comfort her if she seems distressed; do
+all she wishes you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How am I to comfort a mother whose eldest and only son has thrown all
+prudence to the wind; who has disgraced himself so far as to stand in a
+felon's dock; who has wantonly laid his life bare and waste&mdash;for what?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A strange smile came over the young face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah! for what! I know; no one else does. There is a reward, and it
+satisfies me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If ever a Carruthers went mad,&quot; said Mr. Forster, angrily, &quot;I should
+say you were mad now!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Basil paid no heed to the remark.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The only thing I can do,&quot; he said, &quot;I will do. I will go to Vienna as
+soon as I leave here. I will not remain in London one-half hour.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I fear your compliance will be too late then,&quot; he said. &quot;I must leave
+you, if I go to Ulverston this evening. I have several matters that I
+must attend to. Will any persuasion of mine induce you to alter your
+mind?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No; though I thank you for your interest.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And the lawyer left the young man's cell with something like a moan upon
+his lips.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<br />
+
+<a name='CHAPTER_IV'></a><h3>CHAPTER IV.</h3>
+
+<h4>Ulverston Priory.</h4>
+<br />
+
+<p>During his walk from the prison to his office, Mr. Forster was stopped
+several times.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is this rumor about young Carruthers true?&quot; asked Sir James Hamlyn,
+anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; replied the little lawyer, stoutly, &quot;the paragraph is a joke, and
+if we can find out the author of it, he will be punished.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Serve him right. I told Lady Hamlyn there was some absurd mistake. Very
+glad to hear it. Good morning.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mr. Forster, stop one moment!&quot; cried Major Every; &quot;surely this tale of
+Carruthers stealing a watch is all false?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;False as the foul fiend himself,&quot; said the little man, in a rage.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I knew it&mdash;I said so. Young men with twenty thousand a year do not
+steal. A likely story! What does it mean, then?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Some one who owes him an ill-turn has played this sorry jest upon him;
+but we shall pay him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He deserves transportation. I do not know a nobler young fellow in all
+the world than Basil Carruthers.&quot; A fashionable carriage was standing at
+his office door when he reached it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The Countess of Northdown waiting to see you, sir,&quot; said the clerk.</p>
+
+<p>Entering his private room he saw a lovely lady, fashionably attired, who
+greeted him with exquisite grace. Her face was very pale and her lips
+quivered as she spoke to him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good morning, Mr. Forster. You will be surprised to see me, but knowing
+you are the family solicitor, I called to ask you if this shocking story
+about Mr. Carruthers is true.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Heaven have mercy on me this day,&quot; thought the lawyer, &quot;my soul is
+steeped in lies.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Certainly not, Lady Northdown. Mr. Carruthers is abroad. The fact of
+the matter is, the prisoner resembles him, as a vile caricature does, at
+times, resemble the original, and some would-be wag who saw it, thought
+the writing of this absurd paragraph a great joke.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He deserves shooting,&quot; said my lady, angrily.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That may be his fate, when Mr. Carruthers catches him,&quot; was the grim
+reply.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I told Lord Northdown it was all nonsense,&quot; she continued. &quot;I am much
+obliged to you for your kindness, Mr. Forster.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was a rustle of silken robes, a stirring of sweet perfume, and
+then Lady Northdown was gone, only to be succeeded by another and
+another, until the lawyer gave himself up for lost on account of the
+many falsehoods he had told.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Tomorrow my contradiction will set all this straight,&quot; he thought;
+&quot;especially if it be followed by a letter from my lady, and I must
+compel her to write. I would as soon try to drive wild oxen as to
+persuade a Carruthers.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He was not able to start for Ulverston until the end of the afternoon.
+It was full two hours' ride by rail from London, and all the way there
+the lawyer was worrying himself with conjectures, and trying to solve
+what he thought honestly the greatest mystery he had ever known.</p>
+
+<p>It was six o'clock on a bright May evening when he reached Ulverston.</p>
+
+<p>He ordered a fly, and drove at once to the Priory. More than half that
+busy town of Rutsford belonged to the Carruthers. They were lords of the
+manor, masters of the soil. To them belonged also the fertile lands, the
+profitable farms, the hop gardens, and broad meadows that stretched
+between Rutsford and the Priory.</p>
+
+<p>As the lawyer drove through this rich inheritance, his wonder increased.</p>
+
+<p>What could possess any man blessed with such a birthright to place
+himself in so false and degraded a position?</p>
+
+<p>Then the carriage entered the Ulverston woods, said by connoisseurs to
+be the finest and most picturesque in England. Such a glorious sight on
+this May evening as made the lawyer's heart beat, though many years had
+passed since the fountain of poetry flowed for him. The hawthorn and
+chestnut trees were all in flower; the maple and ash wore their most
+luxuriant foliage. The grand old oaks in their leafy boughs concealed
+myriads of singing birds; underneath the shade of the trees, the blue
+hyacinths stretched out like the waves of the azure sea, the violets hid
+their modest heads, great golden primroses shone like stars from the
+midst of green leaves. The air was sweet and warm; the music of the
+birds and the whispers of the wind were full of melody.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A man possessed of all this,&quot; thought Mr. Forster again; &quot;he must be
+mad.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then the carriage stopped before the grand entrance of one of the most
+magnificent mansions in England. Ulverston Priory&mdash;whose beauty has been
+described, in prose and in verse, by pens more eloquent than mine.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is Lady Carruthers at home?&quot; asked Mr. Forster of the stately old
+butler.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My lady is at home, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Will you ask if it is convenient for me to see her? I have come hastily
+from London on important business.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>With all the solemnity an old family retainer displays on such
+occasions, the butler led the way to the library.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will send your message to my lady at once, sir.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He went away and soon returned.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My lady is dressing, but she will be with you in a few minutes.&quot; He
+placed a decanter of the famous Ulverston sherry on the table, and
+withdrew. Mr. Forster gladly helped himself to a glass. &quot;I would take
+that or anything else to give me courage,&quot; he said to himself. &quot;How am I
+to tell her? I know not.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>In a quarter of an hour the door opened, and a stately lady,
+magnificently dressed, entered the room. She was very dignified, of
+queenly presence and bearing, with the remains of great beauty in her
+face.</p>
+
+<p>She bowed most courteously to the lawyer, and held out her white,
+jeweled hand.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Good evening, Mr. Forster,&quot; she said; &quot;your visit has taken me by
+surprise. You are well. I hope?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Quite well, Lady Carruthers, myself. Quite well, I thank you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But his manner was so confused, his face so flushed, that the stately
+lady looked at him in wonder.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And my son, Mr. Forster! Have you seen him lately? Have you left him
+well?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He was in perfect health, Lady Carruthers, when I saw him last,&quot;
+replied the lawyer, stiffly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am glad of it. I have no wish to complain, but I have not heard from
+my son lately. He has not time to write, I suppose.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There will be no use in beating about the bush,&quot; the lawyer thought. &quot;I
+had better speak plainly at once.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Lady Carruthers,&quot; he said, &quot;have you seen today's 'Times'?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; she replied; &quot;I have been so deeply engaged with visitors, I have
+really not opened it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then I must ask you to prepare yourself for something very
+disagreeable. I wish I knew how to save you from the knowledge&mdash;but I do
+not.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The diamond necklace rose and fell as though she breathed heavily; her
+face grew quite white.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Does it concern my son, Mr. Carruthers?&quot; she asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Alas, that I must say yes, Lady Carruthers,&quot; he answered; &quot;I am not a
+man of sentiment, but I would give many years of my life to spare you
+this pain.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is he dead?&quot; she asked, hoarsely.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No, it is not so bad as that,&quot; he replied.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Not death; and I know it is not disgrace. I can bear what you have to
+tell me, Mr. Forster.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He took both papers from his pocket and laid them before her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Read this paragraph first,&quot; he said; &quot;and then this.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She did as he wished. When she read the second, her proud face flushed,
+and she drew her figure to its full height.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What does this mean?&quot; she said, contemptuously. &quot;My son, Mr.
+Carruthers, charged with stealing a watch? What does it mean, Mr.
+Forster?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Lady Carruthers,&quot; said the lawyer, &quot;it is true. I was in court when
+your son, under the name of John Smith, pleaded guilty to the charge of
+getting in the room belonging to Count Jules St. Croix, and I, myself,
+heard him sentenced to six months' imprisonment.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She sat for some minutes, silent, mute and motionless. Then in a low
+voice she asked: &quot;Is he mad?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That was my first thought. It is some weeks since I had seen him, and
+yesterday morning a note was brought to my office, from a gentleman in
+court, telling me your son was in the dock. I hastened there and found
+it true. You may imagine how quickly I followed him and implored of him
+to tell me the mystery, for mystery I feel sure there is. Instead of
+looking ashamed of himself and miserable, he had a light in his face
+that puzzled me. I blamed him, told him the consequences&mdash;how his life
+would be useless to him after this, but he only smiled; my words made no
+impression on him; he evidently derived comfort and support from some
+source known to himself and no others.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And is it possible?&quot; asked Lady Carruthers, with ghastly face; &quot;does he
+lie in prison now?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He does indeed, and there he must remain until the six months are
+ended.&quot;</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<br />
+
+<a name='CHAPTER_V'></a><h3>CHAPTER V.</h3>
+
+<h4>Lady Carruthers.</h4>
+<br />
+
+<p>My lady rose from her seat with an air of almost tragical dignity.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My son in prison!&quot; she cried; &quot;I cannot believe it. What has come over
+him? Can you explain the mystery to me, Mr. Forster?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I cannot&mdash;the only thing that occurs to me is that he has gone to this
+count's room for some purpose that he will confide to no one, and that
+he has taken the watch in his hands and was discovered with it. He asked
+me to tell you that the honor of the Carruthers sealed his lips.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Did he say that&mdash;my Basil, Mr. Forster? If that be the case, rest
+assured&mdash;although I blush to say it&mdash;there is a woman in it. I can
+imagine Basil capable of suffering anything from a mistaken motive of
+chivalry. Do you know with whom Mr. Carruthers has chiefly associated
+since he has been in town?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do not. I know that he has been in a very fast and fashionable set;
+he told me as much; also that he has spent a good deal of money. One
+check for three thousand pounds vanished in a day, and he gave no
+account of it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Three thousand pounds!&quot; cried Lady Carruthers; &quot;yet he neither drank,
+betted nor gambled.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; said the lawyer; &quot;Mr. Carruthers told me he had never touched a
+card and never would. I know he did not care for betting.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The proud, anxious mother raised her eyes to the lawyer's face. &quot;How,
+then, do you think he has got through it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I cannot tell. You must pardon me, my lady, if I remind you that
+although I am family solicitor, agent and manager of the property, I am
+not the guardian of your son.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I know,&quot; she said, clasping her hands. &quot;I little thought he would ever
+need a guardian; he seemed all that was honorable and upright. I cannot
+imagine what has changed him. I regret so bitterly that I let him go to
+London alone.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is a terrible position,&quot; said the lawyer; &quot;the only thing is to
+clear him as much as we can. The moment I read this I wrote an answer
+and sent it to the 'Times' to the effect that Mr. Carruthers had gone
+abroad.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A slight frown came over the delicate face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I implored Mr. Carruthers to write an indignant denial, and to let me
+go to Paris to post it, but he would not hear of such a thing; the very
+idea seemed offensive to him. I hope, Lady Carruthers, to induce you to
+write such a letter.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What kind of a letter?&quot; she asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;One to the editor of the 'Times' denying the report, and saying that
+your son has gone abroad.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But that would be grossly untrue,&quot; she said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, yes! I know that, still if we can save him, we should.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will try any honorable means you choose to suggest,&quot; she replied;
+&quot;but not even to save my son from death could I consent to write or
+publish a lie.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of course you know best, Lady Carruthers,&quot; said the lawyer, with a
+shrug of the shoulders. &quot;Words are but words, and very few of them might
+have saved your son from public shame.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have never yet believed in the success of a lie,&quot; said her ladyship.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Pardon me,&quot; said Mr. Forster, grimly, &quot;then you have forgotten the
+pages of history. I came down purposely to persuade your ladyship to do
+this. I am well aware that at first sight it seems contrary to all one's
+notions of truth and honor, but there is so much at stake. My denial,
+couched in strong terms, will appear tomorrow. If it were succeeded by a
+letter from your ladyship, written in the same strain, people would
+laugh and believe that it was a great mistake. I had so many inquiries
+this morning before I left London, and I gave the same answer to all,
+that it was the sorry jest of an evil-disposed person. If your ladyship
+would but second my efforts, all would be well; we could get him through
+in safety.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Lady Carruthers had risen from her seat and stood with her proud
+figure drawn to its utmost height.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will do anything you propose, save tell a lie. If my son can be
+rescued by no other means, he must bear his punishment.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then my journey is in vain,&quot; said Mr. Forster. &quot;I may return to London
+at once.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; said Lady Carruthers; &quot;I cannot allow you to return after that
+long journey&mdash;you must stay and dine with us. Pardon me,&quot; she said,
+seeing that he looked hurt and uncomfortable. &quot;I have spoken strongly,
+but truth has always been far dearer to me than life. I do full justice
+to your motives. I appreciate your kindness, but in this manner I cannot
+help you. Stay and take dinner with us; then we can consult as to what
+is best to be done.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;May I give your ladyship one piece of advice?&quot; said the lawyer. &quot;Have
+the papers&mdash;yesterday's and today's&mdash;destroyed, so that no rumor of
+anything amiss can reach your servants; also say nothing of it&mdash;it may
+possibly die away, as some rumors do. Your visitors and friends will not
+broach such a subject to you, I am sure.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I shall not mention it,&quot; she replied; &quot;although Marion will be sure to
+suspect something wrong.&quot; At that moment the last dressing-bell rang.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will join us in a few minutes,&quot; said Lady Carruthers; &quot;never mind
+your traveling-dress; Miss Hautville and I are quite alone.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>No one who saw Lady Carruthers leave the library with stately step and
+dignified air, would have believed that she had received a blow which
+laid her life and all her hopes in ruins&mdash;as the lightning smites the
+lofty oak. She went back to her sumptuous bedroom that she had left half
+an hour ago, so calm and serene, so unconscious of coming evil. Looking
+in the mirror, she saw her face was deadly pale&mdash;there was no trace of
+color left on it, and deep lines had come on her brow that had been so
+calm.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It will not do to look so pale,&quot; said Lady Carruthers; and from one of
+the mysterious little drawers she took a small powder puff that soon
+remedied the evil.</p>
+
+<p>Then she went to the dining-room. Miss Hautville and Mr. Forster were
+talking together like old acquaintances, and the three sat down to
+dinner together.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Forster was, as he himself often said, a grim old lawyer, without
+any poetry or romance, but even he could not sit opposite the pale, pure
+loveliness of Marion Hautville unmoved; there was something about her
+that reminded one irresistibly of starlight, delicate, graceful, holy
+veiled loveliness. She was slender and graceful, with a figure that was
+charming now, but that promised, in years to come, to be superb; the
+same promise of magnificent womanhood was in the lovely delicate face.
+The pure profile, the delicate brows, the shining hair, braided Madonna
+fashion, were all beautiful, but looking at her, one realized there was
+greater beauty to come.</p>
+
+<p>She looked across the table with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And now, Mr. Forster, you have told me how London looks; tell me
+something about my cousin, Mr. Carruthers.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He made some indifferent answer, and as he did so, he thought to
+himself:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Can it be possible, that with a chance of winning this lovely girl&mdash;one
+of the richest heiresses in London&mdash;that Basil Carruthers has given his
+heart to some worthless creature, who has spent his money and helped him
+to prison?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A question that, if our readers will kindly follow us, we will answer in
+the succeeding chapters.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<br />
+
+<a name='CHAPTER_VI'></a><h3>CHAPTER VI.</h3>
+
+<h4>Youth Full of Beauty and Promise.</h4>
+<br />
+
+<p>There was no man of greater note in England than the late Royston
+Carruthers, Esq., Lord of the Manor of Rutsford. He was one of the
+ablest statesmen and finest orators in England. He had been returned for
+the Borough of Rutsford for many years, without opposition. To hear him
+make a speech was a decided treat; a handsome man of stately presence,
+he invested every word with new dignity. The grand volume of sound
+rolled on in one continuous stream; the ideas he expressed were noble,
+the sentiments patriotic and exalted; his gestures were full of
+animation and grace.</p>
+
+<p>Royston Carruthers had done great service to his country in his time. He
+had advocated several important measures; his eloquence had facilitated
+the introduction of several bills; his country thought well of him, and
+for a wonder, was grateful to him.</p>
+
+<p>Government offered him the title of Baron Rutsford of Rutsford, and he
+had declined it, saying that his ancestors had for years asked no higher
+title than that of Lord of the Manor, and he valued his name&mdash;Carruthers
+of Ulverston&mdash;too highly to ever exchange it for another.</p>
+
+<p>In the very pride and zenith of his prosperity he married the Lady
+Hildegarde Blenholme, the only daughter of the Duke of Blenholme. She
+was a very beautiful and accomplished woman&mdash;proud to a fault, but
+generous and noble in disposition. They had one child, Basil, and while
+he was yet a boy, his father died, worn out with work and over-exertion.
+He left his wife, Lady Hildegarde Carruthers, sole guardian of the boy,
+expressing a wish that she should bring him up to resemble herself in
+mind and disposition as far as it was possible.</p>
+
+<p>Three years after the great statesman's death, a cousin of Lady
+Hildegarde died, leaving her only child, Marion Hautville, under the
+sole care and guardianship of the mistress of Ulverston Priory.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Bring her up as you would a daughter of your own,&quot; wrote the dying
+mother. &quot;She has a large fortune&mdash;save her from fortune-hunters.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And Lady Carruthers scrupulously carried out her kinswoman's wish. She
+took the girl to her own home, Ulverston Priory; she superintended her
+education; she brought her up in simple, refined habits&mdash;succeeded in
+making of her a perfect lady and a noble woman.</p>
+
+<p>Then the dearest wish of her heart was to see her son, the heir to
+Ulverston, marry Marion Hautville, one of the loveliest girls and
+wealthiest heiresses in England. She was far too wise ever to express
+such a wish openly, none the less it was deeply engraven on her heart.
+They were warmly attached to each other and Lady Carruthers fancied that
+she already saw some signs of liking on the part of Marion for Basil.</p>
+
+<p>While Miss Hautville pursued her quiet, ordinary course of education
+under Lady Carruthers' roof, Basil went through Eton and Oxford; at both
+places he gained high honors and at both places he succeeded in puzzling
+his tutors and masters. He was of such a peculiar disposition;
+chivalrous, romantic, brave, yet with something about him&mdash;they could
+not define what, but quite unlike other boys.</p>
+
+<p>He did not evince any taste for any particular branch of study; he had
+no inclination for the navy, for serving his country as his father had
+done before him. In fact, it was difficult to tell in what direction his
+taste really lay. Still, he left college with high honors, and his
+masters prophesied great things for him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He will make himself famous some day,&quot; they wrote to his anxious
+mother. &quot;In the mean time, let him see something of the world, and you
+will know in what direction his talent lies.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>So, crowded with honors, he came home to Ulverston. He was eighteen then
+and one of the handsomest young men England could boast. No barber's
+beauty; strong, comely, of noble bearing, with a face that had come to
+him from the crusaders of old.</p>
+
+<p>Then Lady Hildegarde set herself to work to discover what manner of man
+her son was. She was puzzled; he was brave, generous, full of high
+spirits, truthful, even to bluntness. She could not discover any grave
+fault in him. She thanked God he had no vices, no mean faults, no
+contemptible failings.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Basil,&quot; she said to him, one evening, as the three sat around the
+drawing-room fire. &quot;Confess now, do you not like and admire the olden
+times better than these?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; he replied; &quot;I always did.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I knew it,&quot; said Lady Hildegarde; &quot;I understand now what has always
+puzzled everyone who has had the care of you. You were born two hundred
+years too late; the ancient days of knight errantry and chivalry would
+have suited you better than these.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is your fault, mother,&quot; he replied. &quot;When I was only twelve years
+old, you gave me a beautiful edition of Froissart's Chronicles, and
+everything else has seemed dull and tame to me since.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I thought as much,&quot; she said, quietly; &quot;you make the same mistake
+others have made before you; you live in the past, not in the present.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are right, mother; in these days, there seems to me nothing to do.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your father thought differently,&quot; she said; &quot;he died from overwork.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah! my dear father was a genius,&quot; said the young man, thoughtfully, and
+for some minutes there was silence between them.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can understand you,&quot; said Lady Hildegarde, with a smile; &quot;you would
+like to have been a knight, always looking out for some romantic
+adventure; you would have fought giants, released distressed
+princesses.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Overthrown all wrong and upheld all right,&quot; he said; &quot;that would have
+been my vocation.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Lady Hildegarde went over to him and laid her hand on his head. &quot;My
+dearest boy, you are young yet, but will live to see that there is as
+much to be done in the way of redressing wrong now as there was in the
+days when knights rode forth to do battle for lady fair.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I want some romantic adventure,&quot; he said; &quot;I cannot see much in the
+plain, common ways of man. I should like to do something that would make
+me a hero at once, something brave and glorious.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear boy,&quot; she said; &quot;God grant you may learn to distinguish true
+from false, true romance from mere sentiment, true gold from mere
+glitter.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He looked so eager, so handsome, she kissed him with passionate love.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I should like to have been one of King Arthur's knights,&quot; he said,
+musingly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear Basil,&quot; said his mother; &quot;your mind is chaos. I tell you there
+are giants to be fought, hydra-headed ones&mdash;the giants of ignorance, of
+wickedness, of injustice, and they call for a sharper, keener sword than
+that wielded by the knights of old.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And there came into her heart a great fear lest her boy, who had too
+much imagination, too much ideality, would waste his life in dreams.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will tell you, Basil,&quot; said Marion Hautville; &quot;what I call a great
+hero. The man who does his duty perfectly in the state of life in which
+God has placed him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We all do that,&quot; replied Basil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Indeed we do not&mdash;you do not, to begin with. You ought now, instead of
+dreaming about Froissart and his barbaric times, you ought to be
+studying hard how to make a good master of this large estate&mdash;how to
+employ the vast wealth given to you&mdash;how best to serve your God, your
+country and those who will depend upon you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Solomon in petticoats!&quot; cried Basil, gaily, and Marion joined in his
+laugh.</p>
+
+<p>That conversation gave Lady Carruthers many uneasy moments. She
+understood so well the dreamy, yet ardent, romantic temperament of the
+boy.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What shall I make of him?&quot; she said. &quot;Will he ever learn to live
+contentedly here at Ulverston, doing his duty, as Marion says, to God
+and man? My poor Basil, he lives too late!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She asked advice from those best fitted to give it. One and all said the
+same thing; there would be nothing so useful for him as a tour on the
+Continent, seeing plenty of the world and going into society.</p>
+
+<p>So Lady Carruthers, who loved home very dearly, gave up its peaceful
+tranquillity, and went with Basil and Miss Hautville to Paris, where
+they remained some months until they saw all that was most brilliant in
+that brilliant capital; from there to Berlin; then on to Vienna, and
+Basil lost much of his dreamy nature.</p>
+
+<p>He was eager, ardent, impetuous, longing, as is the fashion of young
+men, to do brave deeds, to be a great hero, and not in the least knowing
+what to do.</p>
+
+<p>He was just twenty when they returned home, at the commencement of the
+year; Lady Carruthers, worn out with travel and excitement, longing for
+rest. There was more to be done&mdash;her son had been presented at most of
+the courts of Europe; he must attend the first levees held in London
+this season.</p>
+
+<p>The Carruthers had a magnificent mansion in Belgravia. Miss Hautville
+begged for one year more of seclusion and privacy, so that Lady
+Hildegarde and her son went to London alone. She remained there for a
+week, and then, finding her son afloat in London society, she returned
+to Ulverston.</p>
+
+<p>And Basil Carruthers, the dreamy, ardent, romantic boy, remained in
+London alone.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<br />
+
+<a name='CHAPTER_VII'></a><h3>CHAPTER VII.</h3>
+
+<h4>A Modern Bayard.</h4>
+<br />
+
+<p>Perhaps Lady Carruthers never did a more unwise thing than when she left
+her son, with his peculiar temperament and notions, to go through a
+London season alone. She honestly believed herself to be doing right.
+She was ill and unable to bear the whirl of fashion and gaiety. She
+could not withdraw him from town to spend the gayest month of the year
+in seclusion.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Leave him to me, Hildegarde,&quot; said her cousin, Colonel Mostyn. &quot;I will
+pilot him safely through the rocks and deep waters; nothing makes a man
+as self-reliant as feeling that he is trusted entirely.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And knowing that Colonel Mostyn was an elderly man, who knew about as
+much as there was to know of life in all its phases, Lady Hildegarde had
+no scruples.</p>
+
+<p>The colonel and the young squire were most luxuriously established at
+Roche House, the Carruthers' family mansion in Belgravia. Lady
+Hildegarde made every arrangement for keeping up the establishment in
+all bachelor's comforts. There was an excellent housekeeper, one who had
+been at Ulverston Priory for many years.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will be able to give some good dinner-parties,&quot; she said to her
+son; &quot;bachelor dinners&mdash;bien entender&mdash;for Mrs. Richards is an excellent
+housekeeper.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Assured and satisfied that all would go well, she left London. She
+hesitated as to whether she should give her son any warning about love
+or marriage, then decided that it would be quite useless.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The boy is naturally so fastidious and refined,&quot; she thought; &quot;he will
+never love beneath him. He will see no one so nice as Marion.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>So Lady Hildegarde Carruthers went to her stately home, little dreaming
+of the fatal news that was to follow her.</p>
+
+<p>Basil cared little for the fashions and frivolities of the day; Colonel
+Mostyn tried to laugh him out of his romantic and chivalrous ideas.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are behind the age, Basil&mdash;quite unfit for it,&quot; he would say to
+him. &quot;Chevalier Bayard would not be appreciated in these times.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He listened with a smile on his face, while the young man talked of
+something to do&mdash;some grand action to fill up his life, some heroic deed
+with which to crown himself.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Utopian, Basil&mdash;all those are Utopian ideas. Progress is the order of
+the day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is there nothing?&quot; asked Basil, &quot;no way in which a man may distinguish
+himself after the fashion of the heroes of old?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The colonel smiled sarcastically.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear boy,&quot; he said, &quot;between ourselves, some of those heroes of
+yours were unmitigated ruffians, I hardly like to give utterance to such
+a sentiment, yet I believe it. You cannot defend a bridge after the
+fashion of Horatius&mdash;you cannot conquer worlds like Alexander. I fancy
+you will have to be content with being one of the best lords of the
+manor Rutsford has ever known.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are sentimental, Basil,&quot; he said to him one morning, &quot;but not
+practical. A man is nothing unless he is practical. Why not give up all
+these foolish notions of being a great hero? Go down to Ulverston,
+build schools, almhouses, mechanics' institutes and all that kind of
+thing. Marry and bring up your family to fear God and serve the queen.
+One ounce of such practice is worth all the theory in the world.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Basil could not see it&mdash;he longed for the unattainable, the ideal.
+What lay plainly before him was a matter of great indifference to him.</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Mostyn, the keen, cynical man of the world, was, perhaps, the
+best companion he could have had. But the colonel had many anxious
+thoughts over him. At last an idea struck him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The finest thing that could happen to Basil would be a very decided
+flirtation with a beautiful, worldly woman, who would laugh him out of
+these fantastic ideas and make a modern man of him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>So thought the colonel, and so has thought many a one before him, little
+dreaming of the danger of playing with fire.</p>
+
+<p>But Basil did not seem to care much for ladies' society. He went to two
+or three grand balls and pronounced them stupid, on hearing which, the
+colonel raised his eyes and hands in horror.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A young man of twenty who finds a ball stupid is past hope,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>There had been a great flutter in the dovecotes when it was known that
+Basil Carruthers, the heir of Ulverston, son of the great statesman, a
+young man whose income was quite twenty thousand per annum, besides the
+savings of a long minority, was in London&mdash;free, disengaged, and, as a
+matter of course, wanting a wife. Invitations literally poured in upon
+him&mdash;he accepted them at first, but soon grew tired.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A tres dansantes at Lady Cecilia Gorton's,&quot; he said, holding out an
+invitation card at arm's length. &quot;Go, if you like, colonel. I do not
+care for it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The colonel was engrossed in the buttering of his roll, an operation
+which he always performed himself, but he was sufficiently astonished to
+pause in his proceedings and look at his nephew with a very horrified
+face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You do not mean to tell me, Basil, that you are tired of ladies&mdash;young
+ladies?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear colonel,&quot; said the young man, quietly, &quot;I am very sorry to tell
+you that I find one chignon very much the same as another.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Mostyn sighed deeply. What Mentor could make anything out of
+such a Telemachus? He resigned himself, thankful that what he called one
+civilized taste remained&mdash;Basil enjoyed the opera.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I would really sooner see him fall in love with an opera dancer than
+remain what he is,&quot; thought the man of the world.</p>
+
+<p>One evening they went to the opera. It was &quot;Lucretia Borgia,&quot; and, as
+usual, Basil Carruthers saw nothing but the stage. In vain did the
+unwearied colonel call his attention to Lady Evelyn Hope, the lovely
+blonde; the fascinating Spanish Countess Rosella; to the twin sisters,
+the Ladies Isabel and Marie Duncan&mdash;he looked at them without interest.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I wonder,&quot; thought the colonel to himself, &quot;if the woman be living who
+could touch that cold, icy heart!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The opera was nearly over when he saw Basil looking intently at the
+occupants of a box on the grand tier. He even raised his glass, and sat
+for some minutes oblivious of everything and everyone except one central
+figure. Very quietly and without attracting Basil's attention, Colonel
+Mostyn raised his glass and looked at the box. His gaze was steadfast
+for some minutes, then he gave utterance to a prolonged sigh.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That will do,&quot; he said to himself.</p>
+
+<p>Like the diplomatist that he was, Colonel Mostyn said never a word, but
+when the act was ended, he turned to Basil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I see a lady, an old friend of mine, and I am going to spend a few
+minutes with her.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He went to the box, and had the satisfaction of seeing that Basil never
+removed his glass. When he returned to his own seat, the heir of
+Ulverston said, somewhat eagerly:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who is that lady, colonel, with whom you have been speaking?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear boy,&quot; he replied, &quot;one chignon is just like another; which do
+you mean?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is no chignon in this case. I mean the lady with whom you have
+been speaking.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is Lady Amelie Lisle,&quot; he replied, briefly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Amelie Lisle!&quot; repeated Basil; &quot;but who is she?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If you wish to know her pedigree, you must consult Burke's Peerage. I
+can only remember that she is the daughter of Lord Grayson, who married
+a French duchess, and rumor says she is the loveliest and most
+accomplished woman in England.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Is she married?&quot; was the next question.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes; she married Lord Lisle, and rumor, always busy with beautiful
+women, says again that she is not too happy. Do you know Lord Lisle?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No; I do not remember having ever seen him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;When you do, you will realize what it is for a man to be all animal. He
+eats well, sleeps well, drinks well; he rides out a great deal in the
+fresh air; he is tall and portly, never, perhaps, read a book through in
+his life, good humored, generous in his way, but obstinate as a&mdash;well,
+as a woman.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And is that lovely lady married to such a man?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes; the lovely lady was very young, and perhaps his fortune tempted
+her. She is all fire and poetry, plays with passion as children play
+with sharp knives.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Will you introduce me?&quot; asked Basil Carruthers.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear Basil,&quot; replied the wily diplomatist, with an air of assumed
+frankness, &quot;I really do not think you would like her. She is fond of
+balls, of dancing, of all sorts of amusements that you despise. If I
+introduce you to anybody at all, it must be to Minerva in disguise.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I should not like Minerva,&quot; was the abrupt reply.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well, as you seem anxious, I will undertake it. We are going to the
+Duchess of Hexham's ball tomorrow evening. Lady Amelie Lisle is sure to
+be there&mdash;no grand ball is complete without her. She is so surrounded
+now. I hardly like to interrupt her. Are you going to the Hexham ball?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Now Basil had said no, he should certainly decline the invitation, but
+he seemed to forget it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Certainly I shall go,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah, then we shall see her there,&quot; replied the colonel, and his long
+mustache concealed the triumphant smile with which he listened to the
+words.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<br />
+
+<a name='CHAPTER_VIII'></a><h3>CHAPTER VIII.</h3>
+
+<h4>Lady Amelie at Home.</h4>
+<br />
+
+<p>The poets of old must have been thinking of a woman like Lady Amelie
+when they wrote of circes and sirens, and women whose beauty has proved
+fatal to men. It is perhaps quite as well that they are very rare&mdash;the
+power of a beautiful woman is great. If she be good, and use it for a
+good purpose; the world is the better for it. If she be bad, and her
+beauty is simply used as a lure, the world is the worse for it.</p>
+
+<p>Either for good or evil, the power of Lady Amelie was great, for a more
+royally beautiful woman had seldom been seen. She was the very ideal of
+glowing, luxurious loveliness, and her beauty was perhaps the least of
+her charms. She had that wonderful gift of fascination which makes even
+a plain woman irresistible. Allied to beauty so wondrous as hers, it was
+fatal.</p>
+
+<p>It is morning, and Lady Amelie, fresh and radiant as a June rose, is in
+her boudoir, an exquisite little room, hung with pink silk and white
+lace; the windows were draped with pink silk, and the light that came
+through was subdued and rosy, the fairest of all lights in which to see
+a fair woman.</p>
+
+<p>A gem of a room, from which a painter would have made a room glowing in
+luxurious color. The air was heavy with the perfume of white hyacinths
+and daphnes&mdash;the jardinieres were filled with the sweetest of flowers;
+Lady Amelie loved them so well; she was never so pleased as when in the
+midst of them. There was a marble Flora, whose hands were filled with
+purple heliotropes&mdash;in fact, every beauty that money, taste or luxury
+could suggest, was there. Pale pink was a color that Lady Amelie
+loved&mdash;her chairs and couches were covered with it. She is sitting now
+in a pretty, fantastic chair, the subdued rosy light of the room falling
+full upon her. She is reading the fashionable daily paper, smiling as
+some on dits meet her eye. Surely such beauty as that should be
+immortal. No wonder that Basil Carruthers, whose eyes had never rested
+long on a woman's face before, should not weary of hers.</p>
+
+<p>It is the beauty of an empress, royal, commanding, statuesque, yet
+radiant and full of grace. Her figure, as she reclines, is perfection;
+the soft, flowing lines, the gracious curves, the free, unfettered
+grace, the queenly dignity, all combined, enchant one. The head, whose
+contour is simply perfect, is crowned with a mass of dark hair, shining
+like the lustrous wing of some rare bird. The brow is white, rounded at
+the temples and clear as the leaf of the lily. The brows are straight,
+delicate and have in them wonderful expression. But it was Lady Amelie's
+eyes that drew men so irresistibly to her feet. They were irresistible.
+Black, with a languid, golden light in their wondrous depths; full of
+veiled fire and repressed passion. They could melt and flash, persuade
+and command, as no other eyes did. No man ever looked into their depths
+without losing himself there. Her mouth was no less beautiful, tender
+and sensitive; yet those lovely lips could curl with scorn that withered
+and pride that crashed.</p>
+
+<p>She knew that she was beautiful, and she rejoiced in her beauty, as the
+lion in his strength or the serpent in its cunning. Men she looked upon
+as her natural vassals, her subjects, her lawful prey. She never once,
+in the whole course of her triumphant life, paused to think whether or
+not she inflicted pain. If any one had said to her, abruptly, &quot;You have
+made such a person suffer,&quot; she would have laughed gaily. The ache and
+pain of honest hearts is incense to a coquette.</p>
+
+<p>And Lady Amelie Lisle was a coquette to the very depth of her heart! She
+could have counted her victims by the hundred. Who ever saw her and did
+not love her? She delighted in this universal worship; it became
+necessary to her as the air she breathed. Universal dominion was her end
+and aim; but once sure of a man's love or admiration, it became
+worthless to her and she longed for something fresh. Like Alexander, she
+would have conquered worlds.</p>
+
+<p>Not, be it understood, that Lady Amelie, as she expressed it, &quot;ever went
+in for anything serious.&quot; She had never been in love in her life, except
+with herself, and to that one affection she was most constant. She
+accepted all, but gave none. Once or twice her flirtations had been on
+the verge, but Lady Amelie was one of those who can look very steadily
+over the brink but never fall in.</p>
+
+<p>The world spoke well of her. &quot;She was certainly a great coquette,&quot;
+people said, indulgently, but then she was so beautiful and so much
+admired. She smiles as she reads the fashionable intelligence; there is
+a paragraph describing her appearance at a ball given by one of the
+queens of society. The paper speaks of her beauty, her magnificent dress
+and costly jewels. She remembered all the homage, the sighs, the
+whispered words, the honeyed compliments, smiled and thought how sweet
+life was.</p>
+
+<p>At that moment her maid entered. &quot;My lady,&quot; she said. &quot;Colonel Mostyn
+would be so much obliged if you could see him. It is on important
+business.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Certainly. I will see him here,&quot; she replied. &quot;What can he want with
+me?&quot; thought my lady. &quot;He was very empresse last night; surely he is not
+going to make love to me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And the notion of a gray-haired lover piqued her and made her smile
+again.</p>
+
+<p>The colonel entered with the most courtly of bows, and she received him
+graciously. He talked of the opera, of the ball, of the last new novel,
+of the latest marriage on the tapis, and all the time Lady Lisle's
+beautiful eyes were looking at him. &quot;It was not for this you came,&quot; she
+thought. At last the colonel spoke openly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have come to ask of you a great favor, Lady Lisle,&quot; he said. &quot;You
+have perhaps heard of my young kinsman, Basil Carruthers?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The heir of Ulverston?&quot; she said. &quot;Certainly. He is one of the prizes
+in the matrimonial market at present, colonel.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Mostyn drew a very animated and interesting portrait of his
+young charge.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He wants modernizing; his ideas are dated two hundred years back. Lady
+Lisle, there is no one who could work such wonders for him as you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What could I do?&quot; she asked, with a conscious smile.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You could modernize him and humanize him. Will you allow me to
+introduce him to you? And will you take him in hand a little&mdash;teach him
+something of life as it is, not as he dreams of it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What if he burns his wings, like many other silly moths?&quot; she asked,
+laughingly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It would do him all the good in the world,&quot; he replied, with
+enthusiasm. &quot;Will you believe, Lady Lisle, that he never admired any
+one, not even Lady Evelyn Hope? He never admired any face until he saw
+yours last evening.&quot; That piqued her. &quot;I have never seen anything like
+his indifference to all ladies. Dear Lady Lisle, you are the brilliant
+sun that alone can melt this icicle. I assure you, that his mother and
+myself are in despair.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You must not blame me,&quot; she said, &quot;for whatever happens. You choose to
+run the risk.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nothing can happen but what will be for his greatest good,&quot; said the
+colonel, gallantly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You may introduce him to me,&quot; said Lady Amelie, &quot;and I will do the best
+I can for him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You will be at the Duchess of Hexham's ball this evening?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; she replied. &quot;You have described your charge, Colonel Mostyn; now
+I know the carte du pays. It would be better not to mention having seen
+me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Certainly not&quot;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Let me see,&quot; she interrupted. &quot;I am to teach him what life is like in
+this nineteenth century, to try to inoculate him with modern ideas; to
+teach him how to appreciate the society of ladies; he shall learn his
+lesson well.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was something in her peerless face and her brilliant smile that
+made Colonel Mostyn pause, and wonder if after all he had done a wise
+thing.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The boy cannot be hurt,&quot; he said to himself; &quot;he has too much sense to
+fall in love with a married lady. A violent flirtation will do him good,
+and cure him of his absurd ideas.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your ladyship will be the benefactress of the whole family if you can
+rescue our young hero, and help us make him in some degree fit for the
+age he lives in.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Lady Amelie smiled; there was not much fear in her failing in anything
+she undertook.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is not often that young men err on the side of originality and
+singularity,&quot; she said; &quot;I have always considered realism the sin of the
+age. I am quite curious to see your hero, Colonel Mostyn.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I believe he is quite as anxious to see you, Lady Lisle; he positively
+asked me to introduce him to you, and that is a request he has never
+made before, though I have shown him some beautiful women.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I ought to feel flattered,&quot; said Lady Amelie, and again there was
+something in her smile that made the colonel wonder whether he had done
+amiss.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We are quite in a conspiracy,&quot; he said, and Lady Lisle laughingly
+assured him that all women were fond of plots.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Your sex, my dear colonel, are so strong and so wise that it is a real
+pleasure to any poor weak woman to outwit you.&quot; And Lady Amelie shot him
+a glance from her beautiful eyes that made the colonel again half pity
+his young kinsman.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<br />
+
+<a name='CHAPTER_IX'></a><h3>CHAPTER IX.</h3>
+
+<h4>Weaving the Spell.</h4>
+<br />
+
+<p>The Duchess of Hexham bore the reputation of being a most accomplished
+woman; if she excelled in anything it was certainly the giving of balls.
+She had the largest, loftiest and best ball-room in London. It was never
+overcrowded.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;As many flowers as possible,&quot; she was in the habit of saying; &quot;but we
+must limit our guests.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It did not matter either who was fashionable and who was not, the
+duchess would have nothing but beauty and grace at her balls. You were
+sure at Hexham House to meet the most beautiful women in London and the
+most eligible men. It was consequently agreed on all sides that her
+grace gave the best balls during the season. This one at which Lady
+Amelie was to be present, promised unusual splendor.</p>
+
+<p>An archduke of one of the European courts was just then the guest of the
+queen, and he had promised to honor Hexham House with his presence.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He shall see such lovely women,&quot; said the duchess to her husband, &quot;that
+he shall go back to his own country in despair.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>To Lady Amelie she had said, laughingly: &quot;Look your very loveliest. I
+want you to make a conquest of the archduke.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And that queen of coquettes thought to herself that her hands on that
+eventful evening would indeed be full. Not one word did the diplomatic
+old colonel say to Basil, but that young man was not quite himself. He
+had been wonderfully attracted by Lady Lisle's face; he read poetry,
+love of romance and everything else beautiful and piquant in it. Of all
+the women he had seen she was the only one who had interested him. He
+wondered whether the mind matched the peerless face. She must be clever,
+witty, brilliant, he thought, or she would not have kept all those men
+enchained as she did. He was very anxious to see her again.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If she is like everyone else,&quot; he said, &quot;I shall soon be disenchanted,
+but if she speaks as she looks, she will indeed be peerless among
+women.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He longed for the evening. He said nothing of her, but he talked so
+incessantly of the Duchess of Hexham, that the colonel understood
+exactly where his thoughts were, and smiled again most knowingly to
+himself.</p>
+
+<p>He looked at his young kinsman in his faultless evening dress, and said
+to himself that there was not in all England a more noble or handsome
+man.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Amelie called all the skill of the milliner to her aid; her dress
+was superb and effective&mdash;gold flowers on a white ground&mdash;a dress that
+irresistibly reminded one of sunbeams; it fell around her in statuesque
+folds that would have driven a sculptor to despair. Her beautiful neck
+and white arms were bare. She wore a diamond necklace of almost
+priceless value; her dark, shining hair was crowned with a circlet of
+the same royal stones; a diamond bracelet clasped one rounded arm. As
+she moved the light shone on her dress and gleamed on her jewels, until
+one was dazed with her splendor.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Amelie was very particular about her flowers. On this evening, with
+her costly dress and magnificent jewels, she would have nothing but
+white daphnes. Did she know that the sweet, subtle fragrance of a daphne
+reaches the senses long before the odor of other flowers touches them?
+As she surveyed herself in the mirror, she felt devoutly satisfied.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I shall be able to convert Basil Carruthers, Esq., to anything I like,&quot;
+she said; &quot;if he has resisted all the world, he will yield to me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>So she drove off, resplendent, happy, animated, ready for the weaving of
+her spells.</p>
+
+<p>Any good Christian, seeing her pass by with that triumphant smile on her
+lovely face, might have prayed their nearest and dearest should be kept
+from harm.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Amelie never arrived very early at a ball. She liked to make her
+entree when most of the other guests were assembled. It was sweet to her
+to see how sorry and shy the ladies looked at her arrival, and how the
+faces of the men brightened. The first thing, of course, when she
+arrived at Hexham House, was the archduke. It was wonderful to watch the
+various phases of character that she could assume at will. With the
+archduke, she was the brilliant woman of the world, witty, sarcastic,
+adorable. He was enchanted with her; he declared that she combined all
+the charms of English and French women; he danced with her and would
+fain have lingered by her side, but that etiquette called him away.</p>
+
+<p>Then Lady Amelie, already the belle of the ball, looked up, for Colonel
+Mostyn was standing before her, and by his side one of the handsomest
+and noblest young men she had ever seen. He introduced Basil Carruthers
+to his fate.</p>
+
+<p>She looked in his face with a smile, and drawing aside a fold of her
+sumptuous dress, made room for him to sit near her.</p>
+
+<p>He thought her even more dazzlingly beautiful than when he had seen her
+at the opera. The perfume of the white daphnes must have touched his
+senses as those most lovely eyes smiled into his; his brain seemed to
+reel; he was intoxicated with her beauty as some men are with the fumes
+of rare wine.</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Mostyn lingered for a few minutes, then, well satisfied, went
+away, leaving Basil and Lady Amelie together. She had taken her seat
+under the shade of a magnificent mass of gorgeous, blooming flowers,
+with wondrous leaves and rich perfume. As she sat with her gleaming
+dress and jewels showing to perfection, from against this beautiful
+background, Basil was completely charmed. In all his life he had never
+even seen such a picture. She turned to him, when they were alone, with
+the sweetest smile on her lovely lips; her eyes seemed to rain down
+light into his.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This is a brilliant scene, Mr. Carruthers; the duchess excels in the
+arrangement of her rooms.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He made some reply; he never quite knew what it was. It was enough for
+him to watch the charm of that irresistible face as she spoke. &quot;Of
+course, everything depends on taste,&quot; she continued; &quot;I quite expect you
+to laugh at me, but do you know what scene I should find much more
+brilliant than this?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I cannot imagine,&quot; he replied; &quot;but I shall not laugh.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah, well. I am peculiar in my tastes. In place of this brilliant
+ballroom, I should like to be seated at a tournament. I should like to
+see the knights with their banners and waving plumes, in the lists&mdash;the
+ladies in their balconies all hung with cloth of gold&mdash;the queen of
+beauty with the prize. Ah, me! in those days, ladies had knights and men
+were heroes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>As he looked at her, his whole soul shone in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I, too,&quot; he cried. &quot;I love those days ten thousand times better
+than these.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you?&quot; asked her ladyship with admiring eyes, &quot;how strange! It is not
+long since I was speaking to one whom I may call a young man of the
+period, and his reply was, 'Horrid bore, those kind of things were, Lady
+Lisle,' and I thought most young men were of his opinion.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am not,&quot; said Basil, &quot;I love those knights and heroes of old! great
+men and grand men who were content to ride forth, and to battle unto
+death for a woman's smile.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She raised her radiant eyes to his.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Would you do that much for a woman's smile, Mr. Carruthers?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He paused a moment before speaking, then said: &quot;For one such woman as
+those men loved, I would.&quot; She sighed deeply; the jewels on her white
+breast gleamed and glistened.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah, you think, then, that the glorious race of women heroes loved and
+died for, have disappeared?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I thought so, until I saw you,&quot; he replied.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are wrong,&quot; she said. &quot;You will live to tell me that you are wrong.
+There may be no Helen such as she who lived at Troy, and no Cleopatra
+such as Egypt's dusky queen, but there are grand women living yet,
+worthy of heroes' love.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am sure of it,&quot; he said, &quot;now that I have seen you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But she made no reply; she did not even appear to have heard his words.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can understand you,&quot; she said, gently. &quot;Women have sometimes the rare
+gift of entering into the minds of reserved men. I understand you as
+though I had known you for years.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>His face cleared, his heart beat, his eyes brightened for her as they
+had never done for any other woman.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can remember,&quot; she said, &quot;when I had many similar opinions. I used to
+think these, our present days of steam and progress, quite unfit for
+heroes; I used to long for olden times again, when, by one great deed, a
+man made a great name.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>His eyes shone with new fire as he looked at her; it seemed to him that
+he had found his other soul at last. His mother laughed at him; Marion
+Hautville was sarcastic to him, but this beautiful woman&mdash;this
+magnificent queen at whose feet men bowed&mdash;she not only sympathized with
+him, but she had the self-same ideas.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The great thing that I complain of,&quot; said Lady Amelie, &quot;is that there
+really seems in these days nothing to do. You, for instance, supposing
+that you were ambitious, how would you distinguish yourself?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And as she asked the question, my lady gave a sidelong look at her
+victim and was charmed to see the progress she had made.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<br />
+
+<a name='CHAPTER_X'></a><h3>CHAPTER X.</h3>
+
+<h4>Deeper and Deeper Still.</h4>
+<br />
+
+<p>It was not possible that the queen of the ball should be allowed to sit
+apart from the dancers long. Many curious glances were bent on the pair
+who sat before the grand tier of fragrant blossoms.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Who is that with Lady Amelie?&quot; asked one of another.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mr. Carruthers of Ulverston,&quot; was the, reply; and great was the
+indignation felt by young ladies and their mammas.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Lady Masham had five marriageable daughters, and none had as yet
+received even the faintest shadow of an offer. In her own mind she had
+thought of Mr. Carruthers as especially eligible for one of them, and
+had resolved, when he did go more into society, upon a decided mode of
+attack. Her dismay, when she saw the state of things, can be better
+imagined than described.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear,&quot; she said to her friend and confidant, Mrs. Scrops, &quot;look,
+only look! Lady Amelie has victimized Mr. Carruthers.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She cannot do him any harm,&quot; replied Mrs. Scrops; &quot;she is married, I am
+thankful to say.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There will be no good done with him this season,&quot; said poor Lady
+Masham. &quot;I would rather he had fallen in love than that she took
+possession of him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But Basil was not allowed to remain very long tete-a-tete with his
+charming queen. The Duchess of Hexham, alarmed lest her most brilliant
+star should be eclipsed, came to the rescue. Lady Amelie was soon
+surrounded, and then was carried off by the archduke.</p>
+
+<p>Not, however, before she had managed to turn round to Basil and say to
+him, sotto voce, &quot;You must call and see me. We shall be friends, I can
+foretell.&quot; And he was more charmed than ever by those words. Friends
+with that enchanting woman, that proud, peerless queen, that radiant
+beauty! Be friends with her! It was more than he had dared to venture to
+hope. That he might worship her in the distance seemed to him honor
+enough.</p>
+
+<p>He had dreamed of such women, but he had not thought they existed; they
+belonged to the heroic ages, past now and dead. Here, in the midst of
+the days he considered so degenerate, he had found the very ideal of his
+heart.</p>
+
+<p>The brilliant scene before him seemed to fade away. Ah! if there was but
+some faint chance of distinguishing himself for her sake!&mdash;if she were
+but a princess in distress!&mdash;a lady for whom he could enter the lists
+and fight until he won! What was there in this prosaic century that he
+could do for her?&mdash;literally nothing but give her flowers.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Basil! Basil! my dear boy,&quot; said a voice near him. &quot;Pray excuse me, but
+what are you doing here? Dreaming in a ballroom? This will not do.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And Basil, aroused from his dream, looked up to see the face of Colonel
+Mostyn, wearing an expression of perfect horror.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do rouse up, Basil! Do, for heaven's sake, try to be like every one
+else! Lady Masham wishes to know you; come with me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Basil followed, like a victim. Lady Masham received him cordially,
+mentioned casually that she had been to school with his mother,
+therefore felt called upon to take a special interest in himself, and
+then, very kindly, introduced him to her youngest daughter, Miss Nellie,
+whom she pathetically called the flower of her flock. Miss Nellie was a
+pretty girl, as were all the Misses Masham, or they would not have
+figured at her grace's ball. She wore the regulation chignon, golden
+brown in her case, her eyes were blue, her lips rosy and sweet, her face
+fair as the lilies and roses of summer. They had all been brought up
+after the same pattern; they all knew exactly what to say in every case
+and how to say it. As a matter of course, and not, it is to be feared,
+because he felt the least inclination, Basil asked the young lady to
+dance, and Miss Nellie, with the prettiest pink flush on her cheek,
+consented.</p>
+
+<p>She talked about the rooms, the opera, the archduke, until Basil almost
+groaned aloud. There was his beautiful queen, with her face full of
+poetry and her eyes of love. Yet if he could but have had both hearts,
+he would have seen that pretty, simple Nellie Masham, who talked
+innocent little commonplaces to him, was worth a thousand of such women
+as Lady Amelie Lisle. But it is not given to men to see clearly;
+anything but that. When Basil Carruthers had finished that dance he
+longed to escape, lest he should be compelled to go through another.
+Then came another moment of rapture for him, when, from the midst of a
+crowd of courtiers, Lady Amelie summoned him to take her to her
+carriage. Already they seemed like old friends. Basil drew the lace
+shawl around the white shoulders and held her flowers.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You have told me I may call,&quot; he said; &quot;will you tell me when?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am visible any time after two,&quot; said Lady Amelie. Not for any amount
+of love or homage would she forego her comforts. Then it seemed to him
+that the world stopped until two the next day. He went back to the
+ballroom, but its beauty had all departed&mdash;there was no soul in the
+music, no fragrance in the flowers.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Colonel,&quot; he said, &quot;I have had quite enough of the ball. Are you ready
+for home?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The colonel, who was quite satisfied with the result of the night's
+work, declared that he also was ready, and they went.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;A very pleasant ball,&quot; remarked the diplomatist, as they drove home.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Was it?&quot; said Basil dreamily. &quot;I did not notice much&mdash;the only part of
+it I enjoyed was the conversation I had with Lady Lisle. Ah, colonel, if
+the ladies of the present day resembled her, there would be some hope
+for chivalry.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;God forbid,&quot; thought the colonel to himself. Aloud he replied: &quot;Yes,
+she is a very beautiful and most accomplished woman.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She is more than that; she has a touch of genius and fire and poetry. I
+have met no one like her.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can only hope,&quot; thought Colonel Mostyn, &quot;he will not take the disease
+too severely. I want a difference, but I do not care to have a case of
+raving love and madness on my hands.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>At breakfast time the next morning, Colonel Mostyn was pleased to see
+that, for the first time, Basil eagerly opened the papers and spoke
+anxiously of the evening engagements.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Better rest at home, tonight,&quot; said the colonel; &quot;you were out last
+evening, and going out much tires you, I know. What do you say to a
+quiet game at chess?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I cannot say positively. I shall not know what my evening engagements
+are until dinner-time.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>And then the colonel felt quite relieved. &quot;He is going to call on Lady
+Amelie,&quot; he thought, &quot;and wherever she goes this evening he will follow.
+I shall soon see him like other young men.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>As for Basil himself, he simply lived in one longing for two o'clock. My
+lady was perfectly ready to receive him. She had arranged a little scene
+and smiled to herself as she thought how sure it was to succeed.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He saw me all magnificence last evening; now I will play a different
+role.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She wore a plain dress of some white flowing material, with a knot of
+scarlet ribbons on her fair neck; her shining hair was drawn from her
+white brow and fell in luxuriant waves; in it she wore one rose half
+shrouded in green leaves, and never in all her gorgeous magnificence had
+Lady Amelie looked one-half as fair. She was seated in her own boudoir,
+where the white daphnes shone like stars in the rosy light. A picture
+that would have ravished the heart of any man that gazed upon it, and
+Lady Amelie knew that it was perfect, even down to the graceful attitude
+and half sad, half languid expression of her face.</p>
+
+<p>It was not much after two when he came. Her reception of him was
+perfect&mdash;unstudied, graceful, natural; and he looking at her, thought
+her more beautiful than ever.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You were reading,&quot; he said; &quot;have I disturbed you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No; Owen Meredith is a favorite poet of mine; there is something very
+unworldly and beautiful about his verses.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That is why you like them&mdash;you are so unworldly yourself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Perhaps so, in one sense. I have just sufficient tinge of it about me
+to teach me that whatever are my thoughts and opinions, if they differ
+much from other people's, I must keep them to myself, unless, as is the
+case now, I meet a congenial soul.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>A view of the subject which was quite new to Basil.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I thought originality was a sign of genius,&quot; he replied, &quot;and that
+people admired it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She smiled with an air of superiority that left him miles behind.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My observation teaches me that there is nothing worldly people
+disapprove of so highly as originality,&quot; she said. &quot;To be more clever
+than your neighbor is a crime they never pardon.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Basil, drinking in the beauty of that marvelous face, and the light of
+those lovely eyes, learned more worldly wisdom in one hour from the
+lovely lips of Lady Amelie than he had ever learned before.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='CHAPTER_XI'></a><h3>CHAPTER XI.</h3>
+
+<h4>How the Plot Succeeded.</h4>
+<br />
+
+<p>Colonel Mostyn had no longer any reason to complain of his young
+kinsman; it was a month since he had been introduced to Lady Amelie, and
+he had lived in one long dream. He no longer found the time wearisome,
+or longed for something to do. He was in the power of a beautiful and
+heartless coquette, who took care that he should not lightly wear her
+chains.</p>
+
+<p>He no longer showed any indifference to his evening engagements; to be
+with her was the one wish of his life; where she went, he went&mdash;to ball,
+opera, soiree, concert, fete, to dinners at Richmond, to water-parties;
+whoever saw the beautiful Lady Amelie, saw her last victim with her.</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Mostyn began to think that really matters had been carried quite
+far enough; all the good he had anticipated was done; he did not wish
+evil to follow, and he was beginning to scheme for his young kinsman's
+rescue, when he was suddenly summoned to join his regiment, just ordered
+abroad, and Basil was left to his fate.</p>
+
+<p>He gave him some parting words of advice, but they fell on deaf ears.
+Even had Basil quite understood them, he would have asked how was it
+possible for a matter-of-fact, prosaic soldier like Colonel Mostyn, a
+man of the world, to understand such transcendental beings as Lady
+Amelie and himself.</p>
+
+<p>During the whole of this time, believe me, he had no thought of harm or
+wrong; he never dreamed of being in love with Lady Amelie. What was she
+to him? His queen, his lode-star, his inspiration to all that was great
+and glorious, the Lama to his Petrarch; but of anything less exalted, he
+had no notion. Basil Carruthers, with all his eccentricity, would have
+shuddered at the bare notion of dishonorable love or sin. He was an
+enthusiast, a dreamer, a poet in heart and soul, but he was not the man
+to betray a woman; he scorned the notion of such a sin; it was utterly
+beneath his lofty nature. How skilfully she managed him! How artfully
+she contrived to lead him on, to engage his whole thought, time and
+attention, yet never to lose her influence for one moment!</p>
+
+<p>Take a scene from her life and his. A bright, beautiful summer day,
+when, with a large party of friends, they had gone down to Richmond.
+When dinner was over, and the sweet, soft gloaming lay over the earth,
+Lady Amelie left the room, where the guests were lingering over the wine
+and grapes, and went out into the balcony that overlooked the green park
+and the smooth, clear water.</p>
+
+<p>Seeing that, and feeling tired of the conversation, Basil followed her.
+She was leaning over the stone balustrade, and the green foliage
+wreathed round the balcony formed a beautiful frame-work for a lovely
+picture. He went up to her, and stood in silence by her side.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How different these two worlds are!&quot; she said. &quot;The world in there, all
+heat, noise and frivolity; the world out here, so calm, so grand and
+still. Look at the shadow of the trees in the water! Look at the
+floating clouds of rose-colored light in the sky!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But he thought nothing in that outside world so beautiful as she
+herself.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Are you found of German stories?&quot; he asked her, suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes, some of them. I like the mystery and the spirituality, the poetry
+and the romance.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I read a book of Fouque's last night that charmed me&mdash;Minstrel Love. Do
+you know it, Lady Amelie?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; she replied; &quot;tell me what it is.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Only the history of a poet-knight who loved the lofty Lady Alcarda. She
+lived with her husband, a German warrior, in an old castle, and the poet
+was her knight.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you know, Lady Amelie,&quot; he whispered, &quot;that book made me ambitious?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Of what?&quot; she asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Dare I tell you? The Lady Alcarda was beautiful, gifted, pure of heart
+and soul, lofty and spiritual&mdash;like you,&quot; he added, passionately, &quot;and
+she accepted the poet's service&mdash;she made him her knight.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There are no knights in these days,&quot; she said, half sadly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah! let me prove to you that you are wrong. You are like Lady Alcarda.
+Let me be your knight. I would be content to serve you in all chivalry,
+and in all honor, until death, if you would reward me with a kind word
+and a smile.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>His handsome young face looked so eager, so wistful, that the coquette's
+heart smote her for one half moment. Knowing what was before him, was it
+not too cruel to lead him on? But the short-lived feeling of compunction
+soon died. She bent her head and the perfume of the flowers she carried
+reached him.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Would you be my knight?&quot; she said; &quot;would you go through danger and
+peril to serve me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I would die for you,&quot; he replied, simply; &quot;quite content, if you smiled
+on me as I died.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Do you mean it, without any romance or nonsense? Seriously, would you,
+to serve me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes: and count all loss as gain.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then you shall be my knight, my friend. I am not a queen. I have no
+sword to lay on your shoulder, but I place my hand in yours, and I
+accept your loyal service.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She laid her white hand in his, and the touch of those slender fingers
+thrilled him as nothing had ever done before.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am your sovereign liege,&quot; she said, with a smile. &quot;If I come to you
+in distress you are sworn, remember, to help me. If I require your
+service, it is mine.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; he said; &quot;at all times and at all hours.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I shall go through life the more happily for knowing that I have so
+true and chivalrous a defender,&quot; she replied.</p>
+
+<p>And they sat in the flower-wreathed balcony, watching the sun set over
+the river, and the simple, dreaming boy believed himself in Paradise.</p>
+
+<p>It seemed to him that the spell was broken when the other guests came
+out and joined them. As he could no longer talk to Lady Amelie, he was
+content to stand by himself and think over his own happiness. To him it
+was like a beautiful page from some old romance, that this lovely lady
+should have smiled upon him, and have laid her gracious hand upon him,
+calling him her knight. How insufferable the empty talk of the men
+around him seemed! Ah, if they knew how he was sworn to do the lady's
+service!</p>
+
+<p>It was more than an hour afterward when Lady Lisle was free again; then
+he enjoyed the felicity of helping her with her shawls, and of sitting
+by her side while they drove home in the moonlight.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Amelie was the very queen of coquettes. In the course of all her
+long experience, she had never, through all her flirtations, said one
+word too much. But no other woman living could imply so much by a
+gesture, a look or an exclamation. One morning Basil had called early,
+in the hope of escorting her to an exhibition of paintings. He found her
+alone, and while he was talking to her, a gentleman entered the room&mdash;a
+tall, portly, sensual-looking man, whom Basil disliked at first sight.
+Lady Amelie introduced him to her husband, Lord Lisle, who was very
+cordial in his greeting.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Lady Lisle has often spoken of you,&quot; he said; &quot;but this is, strange to
+say, the first time I have ever had the pleasure of seeing you. I met
+your mother, Lady Carruthers, a year ago, and have a most pleasant
+recollection of her.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Lord Lisle sat down, and Lady Amelie gave a pretty little sigh,
+expressive of her resignation to something unpleasant.</p>
+
+<p>And truly a conversation with Lord Lisle was about as unpleasant a
+matter as one could well experience. His language was coarse; his ideas
+coarser still. There was very little to redeem it. He mistook slang for
+wit, told stories that made his wife shudder, and misbehaved himself as
+only such a man can do.</p>
+
+<p>Basil looked at him in dismay. Could it be possible that this man was
+the husband of that queen of beauty? What a life for her! No wonder she
+looked sad as she sat listening to him! The young man's heart ached for
+her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Are you engaged this evening?&quot; asked Lord Lisle; &quot;if not, dine with us.
+I expect Sir Harry Vere, and he is the most amusing character I know.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He would have refused, but that he met the imploring glance of Lady
+Amelie's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will come with pleasure,&quot; he replied; and her eyes thanked him.</p>
+
+<p>Then Lord Lisle, thinking he had been most amiable and charming, rose
+from his chair and quitted the room. In some vague, indistinct way the
+atmosphere seemed clearer after he had gone.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Amelie made no comment; a woman less gifted than herself might have
+done so; she merely raised her hands and eyes and gave one deep sigh.
+Will you believe me that that sigh meant more than any other woman could
+have put into words? It meant &quot;Pity me! see how I am wasted on this boor
+of a man! think how uncongenial he is, how wretched I am.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>No one could sigh so effectively as Lady Amelie Lisle; thus it was with
+difficulty she refrained from smiling. Basil looked so wretchedly
+anxious and uncomfortable, she saw that he was longing to say something,
+but dare not.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I shall not be five minutes,&quot; she said, with a graceful little smile;
+&quot;and then we can spend a long hour with the pictures.&quot;</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<br />
+
+<a name='CHAPTER_XII'></a><h3>CHAPTER XII.</h3>
+
+<h4>Caught in the Snare.</h4>
+<br />
+
+<p>The first part of that hour was charming. Basil never forgot it; the
+rooms were not crowded, the pictures beautiful, and Lady Amelie in one
+of her most graceful moods. They both stood before a little gem by one
+of our first English artists, called &quot;The Coquette's Decision,&quot; a very
+pretty picture that told its own story. A young girl, standing, half
+hesitating between two gentlemen. They looked anxious, she smiling and
+triumphant. She inclined ever so little to the fair-haired youth on the
+right, her eyes and lips smiling on him, but her hand was extended to
+his dark-haired rival on the left.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do not like that kind of picture,&quot; said Basil, &quot;it lowers one's ideal
+of woman. I do not think there is one-half so much coquetry in the world
+as people would make you believe.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Perhaps you never knew a coquette,&quot; she said; and the look she gave him
+from underneath those long lashes was quite irresistible.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; he replied; &quot;indeed, a coquette could never charm me. My ideal of
+woman is some one as lofty, grand, beautiful and gifted as you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yet there are coquettes,&quot; she said, gravely.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do not doubt it. I only say there would be no charm for me in the
+fairest of them all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Just then two gentlemen entered at the other end of the room, and the
+slight noise made by their entrance caused Lady Amelie to look up.
+Basil, who was watching her every movement, as he always did,
+attentively, saw her turn very pale and a sudden cloud of fear dimmed
+the radiance of her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Lady Amelie, you are ill!&quot; he cried; &quot;or tired.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am tired,&quot; she said, and they sat down on one of the seats, placed
+in the middle of the room. It struck him that she was anxiously trying
+to conceal herself from observation, yet the idea seemed absurd.</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime, the two gentlemen advanced slowly up the room. They,
+too, paused before &quot;The Coquette's Decision,&quot; and laughed. Then one,
+leaving his companion, came hastily to the seat where Lady Amelie was
+sitting. He held out his hand as though surprised and delighted.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Lady Amelie!&quot; he said. &quot;I felt sure that I was not mistaken&mdash;that it
+must be you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>There was no answering delight on her face; nothing but constraint,
+embarrassment and confusion.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How do you do, Count Jules?&quot; she said, coldly. &quot;This is an unexpected
+surprise. I thought you had left London for some years.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;L'homme propose, Dieu dispose,&quot; said the count. &quot;I only reached England
+last night, and have hurried to London.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is strange that I should meet you here,&quot; she said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My friend, Monsieur Le Blanc, has a picture here, and I have been
+criticising it for him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Then Lady Amelie seemed to remember the laws of politeness, for she
+introduced the two gentlemen, who looked very unpleasantly at each
+other.</p>
+
+<p>Basil did not like the count, although at first sight he was certainly a
+very handsome man, essentially French, with a quick, shrewd, handsome
+face and dark hair, eyes black as night, yet bright and eloquent. It was
+those very eyes that Basil disliked; they were not clear, true nor
+honest. In fact, a sudden hatred to the French count sprang up in his
+heart, he could not tell how or why. They exchanged a few words, and
+then, under pretense of drawing Lady Amelie's attention to a picture,
+Count Jules said to her:</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Can you not dismiss your young cavalier? I have come to London on
+purpose to see you&mdash;I must speak to you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I cannot dismiss him,&quot; she said, curtly. &quot;He is not a footman to be
+sent away at my pleasure. Tell me in few words what you want.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I want money!&quot; he said, with a very dark frown; &quot;and money, Amelie, I
+must have.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can give you none&mdash;you have no conscience. How much have you had
+already?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have kept no account.&quot; he replied; &quot;and really what I have had is not
+of the least consequence&mdash;it is what I have to get.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That will be nothing from me,&quot; she replied. &quot;I gave you a thousand
+pounds three months ago, and you promised you would ask for no more.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I did not foresee the present necessity,&quot; he said. &quot;Amelie, I must have
+money.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Count Jules,&quot; said Lady Lisle, &quot;you are a villain, who trades upon a
+woman's fears!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My charming lady shall call me anything she will, but I must have the
+money.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I tell you,&quot; she replied, angrily, &quot;that I have not got it, nor is it
+any use asking my lord for it; he was angry the last time, and I shall
+ask him no more.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then get it from some other source.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is no other source open to me,&quot; she replied.</p>
+
+<p>The count's face darkened angrily.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There need not be so many words about it, Lady Lisle. I must have the
+money.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;By what right do you incessantly demand money from me?&quot; she asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You promised, in those happier days, to be my friend always; and as a
+friend you have lent me money often. As a friend, I ask you for it
+again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And as a friend,&quot; she retorted, &quot;I refuse.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Then I shall be obliged to adopt the very unpleasant alternative of
+asking it from Lord Lisle.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Lord Lisle would refuse it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He would give it to me as the means of purchasing my silence,&quot; he said.
+&quot;You forget, Lady Amelie, what I have to show Lord Lisle, if he does
+refuse?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You mean my letters?&quot; she said, indignantly. &quot;You are coward enough to
+threaten me with showing my husband the letters I was so mistaken as to
+write to you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I should be deeply grieved, indeed,&quot; he said, &quot;but I have no other
+alternative.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And I mistook you for a gentleman,&quot; she said, with calm scorn.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You were very kind to me, Lady Amelie,&quot; he said, with a polite sneer.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do not believe you have those letters,&quot; she said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have, indeed. I have locked them up with the only two family
+heirlooms I possess&mdash;a watch and a ring&mdash;in an ivory casket, and I go
+nowhere without it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You must do your worst!&quot; said Lady Amelie.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nay,&quot; he said, &quot;I do not wish to do that. My worst would be to bring
+the honored name of Lady Amelie Lisle into the divorce court, and that I
+should not like to do. Do not decide hastily. I cannot remain in England
+very long. Take a week to decide in and let me know when I am to have
+the money.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She turned from him with the scornful gesture of an outraged queen.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;We shall see,&quot; she muttered between her white teeth. &quot;We shall see.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She spoke no other word to him, but went back to her seat. Count Jules
+bowed and quitted the room.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You do not like that man, Lady Lisle?&quot; said Basil, as he looked at her
+fair, flushed face. Before she had time to answer, they were joined by
+some ladies of his acquaintance, and were not able to exchange another
+word on the subject. As he was leaving, Lady Lisle looked out of the
+carriage.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mr. Carruthers!&quot; she said. He was by her side in a moment. She was pale
+and agitated, not quite herself.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are my sworn knight,&quot; she said, laying her hand on his.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Until death!&quot; he replied.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You promised to help me at any risk, in any difficulty, and now I am
+going to ask your aid.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is yours. My whole life is yours,&quot; he cried. She smiled, sadly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There are some things more valuable than life. Perhaps what I ask from
+you will cost you dear.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I do not care in the least what it costs,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You are coming to dine with us; we do not dine this evening until
+eight. Come soon after six. I have a story to tell you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will not fail,&quot; he replied. &quot;Do not be anxious, Lady Lisle, you look
+distressed. Trust in me; far as human aid can go, mine is yours.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>His clear blue eyes lingered on her perfect face, and again, for the
+second time in her life, the queen of coquettes felt something like pity
+for the man she was luring to his doom. She leaned back in the carriage
+after he was gone, with a most triumphant smile on her lips.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;What wonders a pretty face can work,&quot; she thought. &quot;I feel quite safe,
+now that my troubles are to rest on his broad shoulders. How I should
+like to see that Jules trampled upon and crushed. My knight will save
+me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She never remembered that he was the only son of his mother&mdash;a widow.
+She cared little that he was the head of a grand old race. She thought
+still less of his talents, his honest enthusiasm, his simplicity, except
+so far as it answered her purpose.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<br />
+
+<a name='CHAPTER_XIII'></a><h3>CHAPTER XIII.</h3>
+
+<h4>Ladie Amelie's Story.</h4>
+<br />
+
+<p>A few hours later, and Lady Lisle was seated in her boudoir, exquisitely
+attired. She, who knew so well the effect of every fold in her dress, of
+every flower she wore or carried; she, who had studied the art of
+looking beautiful more completely than any other woman, had not
+neglected her most potent charm. She wore a dinner dress of white silk,
+with crimson flowers, that suited her dark, glowing beauty to
+perfection. An elegant toilet! No jewels, but a massive golden bracelet
+on one arm, and a golden chain of exquisite workmanship round her neck.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I knew you would come,&quot; she said, looking up with a smile as Basil was
+shown into her boudoir; &quot;I knew you would not fail me. We shall have
+time for a long conversation. Lord Lisle never reaches home until a
+quarter of an hour before dinner, and then he has to hurry. Our guests
+will not arrive until nearly eight, so we shall not be interrupted.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He looked round that little fairy nook, wondering at its elegance,
+wondering at the soft, rosy light, at the fragrance of the white
+daphnes, but more than all at the queenly loveliness of the beautiful
+woman before him.</p>
+
+<p>She sat in the very heart of the crimson glow, her glistening silken
+dress sweeping in rich waves, and quite sure that her attitude, like
+everything else about her, was perfect. She held out her hand to him,
+with a smile that would have bewildered any man older and wiser than he.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Sit down here,&quot; she said, pointing to a velvet fauteuil; &quot;I am going to
+make you my judge. Ah, Basil, for this one night I may call you Basil;
+perhaps after you have heard what I have to say, you will never be my
+knight again; it may change you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I shall belong to you, and ask no greater happiness than to serve you
+until I die,&quot; he replied,</p>
+
+<p>A fan lay on the table by her side, with jeweled handle, and made of
+white, soft feathers. She opened it and quietly stirred the warm,
+perfumed air.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I could only tell my trouble to you,&quot; she began, in her soft, caressing
+voice. &quot;You will understand me, because you know what it is to have
+wishes, hopes and aspirations that are never realized. You know what it
+is to be unworldly and unlike others.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I was but a girl when I was married, Basil&mdash;an innocent, unsuspecting
+girl, just seventeen. I might plead, in excuse of what followed, that I
+was married without my own inclination being consulted&mdash;unwillingly
+sacrificed to money that never has done me any good, and never will. I
+might plead my youth, my unhappiness, the utter want of congeniality
+with the man I married; but I will not. You shall judge me without
+excuses. I must, however, tell you that at first, for the first two
+years of my married life, I was in despair. There seemed to me no hope,
+no respite&mdash;nothing but despair. Now I have grown accustomed to my
+misery, and can wear it with a smile; then it was otherwise. At that
+time I was first introduced to Count Jules Ste. Croix. I hate myself,&quot;
+she continued, passionately, &quot;when I remember how that man duped me. I
+did not think him handsome, although other ladies raved of his beaux
+yeux and his classical face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But I liked him, Basil, because he had the art of expressing silent
+sympathy for me. He said nothing&mdash;if he had done so, my pride would have
+taken fire and I should have been saved&mdash;but all that other men say in
+passionate words, he conveyed to me in passionate looks. He was very
+kind to me; he used to visit us a great deal, and on several occasions
+he stood between me and Lord Lisle's fierce anger.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;He knew all my distress, my troubles, my misery, as well as I know them
+myself. Let me tell you briefly, Basil, that at this unhappy time I
+wrote to him three letters&mdash;only three. I was so miserable, so wretched,
+that, unless I had opened my heart to some one, I must have died. Now
+listen, Basil, and do not wonder if I have ceased to believe in men. He
+answered them, and then, after a time, presumed upon my having written
+to him. Oh, Basil, if I could but spare myself the shame of telling you!
+He made a compact of friendship with me that nothing was ever to break.
+I was but a frightened child, and I made it. He asked me to lend him
+money. Oh, Basil, I was but a frightened, terrified girl, and I lent it!
+Then he tried to make love to me&mdash;he flattered me; he followed me like
+my shadow. But there I was firm; he could not frighten me into anything
+I thought wrong.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Why, the man is a villain!&quot; cried Basil; &quot;an unprincipled, cowardly
+villain!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Wait,&quot; she said, laying her hand on his arm. &quot;Wait; you have not heard
+all. He uses the three letters as a means of extorting money from me.
+Now he threatens that if I do not lend it to him, he will show them to
+my husband.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Basil sprang from his seat, with a hot flush on his handsome young face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will shoot him!&quot; he said. &quot;Such a man is not fit to breathe the air
+of heaven.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Hush!&quot; she said again. &quot;You cannot help me unless you are calm. My
+husband does not love me, Basil. The least whisper of this, and,
+innocent as I am, I should be separated from him and disgraced. It is
+from this I want you to save me. If I were married to a noble, generous
+man, I should go to him at once, and tell him the truth. If Lord Lisle
+knew it, he would use it as a pretext for separating himself from me.
+Basil, you are my knight&mdash;you must save me; you must get those letters.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will,&quot; he replied, &quot;at any cost.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I tremble to think how much money, I, in my cowardly fear, have lent
+him. He will want more and more, until he has drained a fortune, and I
+shall be no safer in the end. I will lend him no more money, Basil; but
+you, my only friend, shall get the letters.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will. How shall I do it! Oh, Lady Lisle, let me fight him&mdash;let me
+punish him as he deserves!&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; she said; &quot;he is too cunning. If you were to offer to fight with
+him, he would know it was for my sake, and he would so place the letters
+as to fall into my husband's hands if anything happened to him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>But the hot flush did not fade from Basil's face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I must thrash him,&quot; he cried.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No; for my sake, and because you would do me true service, you must
+not,&quot; she said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will give him all my fortune for the letters,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That would not do&mdash;he would take your money first, then, holding the
+letters, would still want more. I will tell you the only plan by which
+you can help me. Go boldly into the room and bring the letters away.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But that looks so much like stealing them,&quot; he said. &quot;Let me fight him
+and take them because I win.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;No,&quot; she said, sadly. &quot;If you will not help me, as I wish, I must
+forego all aid, and suffer on.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You have but to command,&quot; he cried, &quot;and I will obey.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;This is the count's address,&quot; she said. &quot;Go into his rooms; you will
+find there an ivory casket; he keeps the letters there; he told me so.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will do it,&quot; he said, quietly.</p>
+
+<p>A beautiful light came into her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I knew you would save me, Basil,&quot; she said, tenderly. &quot;When will you do
+it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will make my first essay tonight. I shall not rest again until it is
+done.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Go to his rooms,&quot; she said; &quot;ask for him; if they tell you he is not
+in, say you will wait for him; then, while you are in the room, open the
+casket, take out the letters, destroy them at once, and send word to me
+when it is done. Do not stop to think whether I am right, whether it is
+the better plan, but do it at once, because I have said so.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will do it,&quot; he replied. Then she saw a shadow fall over his face.
+&quot;There is nothing really in them, I suppose, Lady Lisle?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Nothing,&quot; she said, &quot;but the cry of a woman's breaking heart! Enough to
+ruin me, should my husband ever come to know it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;That he never shall; they shall be destroyed. If I die for it, they
+shall be destroyed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah, me,&quot; she said; &quot;had ever liege lady so true a knight? Basil, how
+shall I thank you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The pleasure of serving you will be thanks enough,&quot; he replied.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah, generous knight, noble knight, who shall say true chivalry is
+dead?&quot; And she praised him, she flattered him, she thanked him until the
+slight doubt that had occurred to him died away and he was ashamed of
+it.</p>
+
+<p>He thought of nothing but obeying her. It was sadly against his high
+English spirit to steal into a man's room and take from it; he would
+have preferred fighting until one or the other lay dead. But she had
+said nay, and it could not be. That very evening he called and was told
+the count was not in; the day following he repeated the call, and the
+servant, as he had said at the trial, was suspicious, not recognizing
+him as one of his master's friends.</p>
+
+<p>He called another evening, and, owing to the fact of there being a new
+servant, he was admitted into the count's room. It was empty, although
+the gas was burning. He saw the little ivory casket, and with one stroke
+of his strong, young hand, opened it.</p>
+
+<p>There lay the letters, underneath a watch and ring. He obeyed her; he
+did not lose one instant. He emptied the casket, carried the letters to
+the lighted gas, and burned them! Just as he had raised the watch and
+ring in his hand to replace them, the door opened and the count, with
+his servant, entered the room.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<br />
+
+<a name='CHAPTER_XIV'></a><h3>CHAPTER XIV.</h3>
+
+<h4>The Trap Closed.</h4>
+<br />
+
+<p>The count did not utter one word. He saw at one glance what had been
+done. He recognized the young gentleman whom he had sneered at as Lady
+Amelie's victim. He understood at once what had been done.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She had asked him to destroy the letters, and he has done it,&quot; he said
+to himself. In one moment he had formed his scheme of revenge. He would
+give the young man in charge for stealing his watch and ring. If he
+cleared himself at all, he must tell the truth. He must tell that he had
+not come there to steal a watch, but to destroy Lady Lisle's letters.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;If he confesses that,&quot; said the quick-witted count to himself, &quot;she
+will be doubly disgraced; if he declines to confess, I am at least
+revenged upon him.&quot; So, until the entrance of the policeman, the two men
+stood and glared at each other.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You can save yourself,&quot; said the count, &quot;if you will confess what you
+came for, and if you will write that confession down.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Basil smiled contemptuously. &quot;Of what do you charge me?&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I shall charge you with stealing my watch and ring,&quot; was the reply.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Knowing I am innocent?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;The alternative lies before you. Confess, as I have said, and Lady
+Amelie suffers; deny, and you go to prison for stealing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>It seemed to him far easier. &quot;I will go to prison,&quot; he thought, &quot;I can
+give a false name; no one will know me. There will be no fuss, no stir,
+nothing known, and she, my queen, will be saved.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Of course there was no common sense in such a proceeding, nothing but
+enthusiasm and romance. He certainly had not calculated upon the fact
+being known. He had really believed the false name would shield him. He
+found means through a heavy bribe to send one word to Lady Amelie; it
+was merely the word, &quot;Destroyed.&mdash;B.C.&quot; But it gave the queen of
+coquettes a sense of security she had not enjoyed for long. While Basil
+still lay in prison, Count Jules sought her.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;You have baffled me, my lady,&quot; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; was the calm reply, &quot;I have checkmated you, count. You will
+extort no more money from me, nor will you threaten me again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Well,&quot; said the count, &quot;I confess myself beaten, and I am not a good
+man, either, my Lady Amelie, but sooner than have blighted that young
+man's life, as you have done, I would have suffered anything.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;My dear count,&quot; said Lady Amelie, philosophically, &quot;some men seem, by
+fate and by nature, destined to be used as a cat's-paw.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Count Jules was baffled; his only hold upon the rich and beautiful Lady
+Amelie was broken. What those letters contained was known only to the
+lady and himself. If simply the written expressions of her own
+unhappiness, he placed more value on them than they were worth. The
+chances are that they held more than that.</p>
+
+<p>He was entirely defeated&mdash;they had been his last resources for long. He
+had never failed, by means of them, to extort money from Lady Lisle at
+pleasure. It was useless to threaten any more. She had but to dare him
+to bring forth his proofs, and he had not one word to say.</p>
+
+<p>His only consolation was, that in revenge, he had completely blighted
+the young hero's life, for hero he was, although his heroism was of a
+mistaken kind.</p>
+
+<p>And Lady Amelie&mdash;did she feel any regret for the young life tarnished?
+She missed a very pleasant companion, an enthusiastic adorer, but as
+fortune would have it, there came to England a young Roman prince, who
+was both artist and poet, handsome as a Greek god, and wealthy beyond
+compare. His appearance created a perfect furore in fashionable society,
+and he, as a matter of course, fell in love with Lady Amelie, so that
+she soon forgot the young knight who languished in prison. When the
+season was over, she persuaded her husband to go to Rome, and never left
+even a line or a message for the mistaken young man who had done so much
+for her.</p>
+
+<p>She only did what suited her; she was the queen of coquettes, and she
+made him useful to her; nothing else mattered.</p>
+
+<p>The lonely months wore on very slowly for Basil. At first the notion of
+heroism and the conviction that he was performing a most noble and
+chivalrous deed sustained him; but there was a fund of common sense in
+his character, and this common sense suggested to him that instead of
+being a hero, he had been the dupe of a wily coquette. Not at first did
+this idea strike him; not until long, dreary weeks had passed, and she
+had never sent him even one message of thanks or sympathy. He was very
+angry with the idea at first, thinking it quite a false one, but
+gradually he awakened to the conviction that it was true.</p>
+
+<p>Then his fortitude forsook him, and it was some consolation to hear from
+Mr. Forster that what the kind-hearted lawyer called his
+misrepresentations had been effectual. People had almost forgotten that
+little paragraph that had one morning taken London by storm.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have denied it so constantly and emphatically,&quot; he said, &quot;that my
+words have been believed. As soon as you get out of here, make haste
+abroad, then all may be well.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Even he could not help seeing how entirely the light and brightness had
+faded from the young face.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I have never said anything to you,&quot; said Mr. Forster, one morning, &quot;but
+I have a certain conviction, Mr, Carruthers, that there is some woman in
+this; you are here for a woman's sake and to screen her from blame; if
+so, it is useless asking you to tell the truth, I know, but make the
+best of it; get out of this as soon as you can.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He did so. When the six months were over, &quot;John Smith&quot; was discharged
+and did not linger many hours in London; he went at once to Paris, and
+there made out where Lady Amelie was.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;In Rome,&quot; replied the gentleman of whom he asked the question. &quot;Her
+last caprice was a young Roman prince, and they are settled there for
+the winter.&quot; To Rome he resolved to go. He would see for himself whether
+she was all that his dreaming fancy had painted her, or whether she was
+what men said&mdash;a heartless coquette.</p>
+
+<p>He went to Rome, and found her, as usual, queen of all that was most
+brilliant and gay.</p>
+
+<p>It was at a soiree given by the Duchessa Sforza. He saw her again,
+beautiful, radiant and magnificent. By her side stood a young man, who
+was handsome as one of the grand old statutes that ornamented the
+galleries of Rome. He watched her, thinking bitterly of the time that
+had passed since be looked his last on that radiant face, and all the
+bitter shame that had been his portion since then.</p>
+
+<p>He crossed the room and went over to her. Whatever dismay she may have
+felt, she showed none. She looked up with a bright, cold smile, as
+though they had parted but yesterday.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mr. Carruthers!&quot; she said. &quot;I hope you are well. I really believe that
+half of England is coming to Rome.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Can you wonder,&quot; said the prince, &quot;when England's fairest queen is
+here?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Lady Amelie introduced the two gentlemen, and after a time the prince
+went away. Then she turned her lovely face to the young man she had
+duped so cleverly.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;How do you like Rome?&quot; she asked,</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I cannot talk commonplace to you, Lady Lisle,&quot; he said; &quot;I have come
+from England purposely to see you,&quot;</p>
+
+<p>She looked slightly impatient.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Ah,&quot; she replied. &quot;Of course I am very much obliged to you; but you
+must have been terribly imprudent. Could you not have managed without
+being discovered in that suspicious attitude? I was so grievously
+distressed. You are too quixotic&mdash;you seek needless dangers.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>That was the extent of her gratitude to the man who had saved her
+reputation, character, and fair fame.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I did not compromise you,&quot; he said. &quot;I preferred imprisonment to that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes; but it was quixotic; there was no need for anything of the kind.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I am very sorry to have erred from excess of zeal,&quot; he replied,
+sarcastically. &quot;It is a comfort to me to think that I shall not so
+offend again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I hope,&quot; she said, more anxiously, &quot;that it will not injure you&mdash;that
+no one will know about it. It was really too shocking. Prison for a
+young man of your position! It was absurd.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I thought so myself, before I came out; it was absurd; but you will be
+comforted to know, Lady Amelie, that no one seems to have known of it
+but my mother, Lady Carruthers, and my lawyer, Mr. Forster. So far as
+the world is concerned, I am safe.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>The prince returned, looking slightly jealous, and then Basil amused
+himself, after a bitter fashion. He watched Lady Amelie playing off all
+her airs, graces, and fascinations on the young prince, as she had
+played them upon him. He was cured. It was a bitter lesson, but it
+lasted him. He began to understand the difference between romance and
+reality&mdash;between dreaming and doing. It had been a hard, bitter, almost
+shameful, lesson, but he was thankful in after years that he had learned
+it.</p>
+
+<p>He found, after a time, that the world was wiser than he thought.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;There is some story about Mr. Carruthers,&quot; people would say, but no one
+ever knew exactly what it was. He remained in Rome for a whole week.
+Before it was over he was quite cured of his liking for the queen of
+coquettes.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<br />
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<a name='CHAPTER_XV'></a><h3>CHAPTER XV.</h3>
+
+<h4>The Denouement.</h4>
+<br />
+
+<p>Then Basil Carruthers set himself busily to work to discover how he
+might best undo the effects of his folly. The duties he had thought so
+lightly of rose before him now.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I will go down to Ulverston,&quot; he said to himself, &quot;and with God's help
+I will be a wiser and a better man.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He saw what his mistaken notions of chivalry had done for him&mdash;how
+completely they had misled him&mdash;how near they had brought him to ruin
+and disgrace. The meeting between mother and son was not the most
+pleasant in the world. Lady Carruthers, stately, sensitive, and proud,
+could not forgive the dark disgrace under which her son had lain. He saw
+how deeply she felt it.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Mother,&quot; he said, &quot;you must judge me leniently. I own myself mistaken.
+I think, sometimes, I must have been mad, I cannot tell you precisely
+what took me to prison. Will you believe me that it was for a woman's
+sake?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I knew it!&quot; she interrupted.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It was to screen a woman's folly,&quot; he continued. &quot;And, indeed, wrong as
+I was, I believed myself to be doing a most chivalrous deed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;It is a great pity, Basil,&quot; said Lady Carruthers.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes,&quot; he said, quietly; &quot;but I was a woman's dupe, and I have suffered
+enough. It was one false step, but I shall spend my life in trying to
+redeem it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>He kept his word. In four years' time the name of Basil Carruthers rang
+through the land with a pleasant sound; he had, indeed, found something
+to do.</p>
+
+<p>He was returned for the borough of Rutsford, and his fame as an able and
+eloquent orator spread over the country.</p>
+
+<p>Then he studied to become a model landlord; he built large, airy
+cottages and schools; he paid the attention that every landlord ought to
+pay that the land be well drained, well cultivated. He was a friend to
+all his tenants, a benefactor to his dependants. In the course of time
+people forgot to whisper there had been some story about Mr. Carruthers;
+they only mentioned him in terms of praise. The very quality that his
+mother once thought would be against him now proved to be in his favor.
+If he was more romantic, more enthusiastic than other young men, he
+employed the superabundance of his gifts to excellent purpose.</p>
+
+<p>After some years there was a grand wedding at Ulverston. Basil
+Carruthers won Marion Hautville for his wife. Before they were married
+he took her one afternoon for a long ramble in the green summer woods
+and told her this story. Marion was shocked at first; it seemed to her
+impossible that a man could be so foolish as to mistake a deed like that
+for chivalry.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;And what has become of your lovely Lady Amelie now?&quot; she asked.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She is still the queen of coquettes,&quot; replied Basil; &quot;but, Marion,
+although it was a terrible mistake, and I suffered so bitterly for it, I
+cannot be altogether sorry that it happened. I should have been a
+useless dreamer until the day of my death if this had not taken place.
+It was a rude, rough, but sure awakening.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I shall never call you my knight,&quot; said Marion. &quot;Why, Basil, dear, a
+schoolboy would not have been taken in by such nonsense.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;But, Marion, I was not so wise as a schoolboy,&quot; he replied.</p>
+
+<p>&quot;She only used you for her own purposes. She simply made a cat's-paw of
+you, Basil.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;I can see it now, darling, I did not then. But you will forgive me,
+Marion?&quot;</p>
+
+<p>&quot;Yes; because, after all, though you were so greatly mistaken, still the
+faults that led to your mistake were almost virtues.&quot;</p>
+
+<p>Lady Carruthers was rendered very happy by her son's marriage. When Mrs.
+Carruthers went to London, she proved to be Lady Amelie's greatest
+rival. She was quite as beautiful, as witty, as clever, but in place of
+coquetry, she was gifted with honest simplicity, that men pronounced
+charming, while Lady Amelie, to her great chagrin, began to find her
+attractions on the wane. Men grew tired of her vanity and her cruelty.
+Women disliked her for her selfish disregard of everything but her own
+triumph.</p>
+
+<p>Basil Carruthers bows his head in shame and contrition when he remembers
+this episode in his career. Then Marion, his wife, kisses him with a
+smile, and tells him he is not much the worse for having been once upon
+a time a coquette's victim.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<center>THE END.</center>
+
+<br />
+
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+
+
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+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Coquette's Victim, by Charlotte M. Braeme
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COQUETTE'S VICTIM ***
+
+***** This file should be named 12886-h.htm or 12886-h.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
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+
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Coquette's Victim, by Charlotte M. Braeme
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Coquette's Victim
+
+Author: Charlotte M. Braeme
+
+Release Date: July 12, 2004 [EBook #12886]
+[Last updated: September 21, 2013]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE COQUETTE'S VICTIM ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Steven desJardins and Distributed Proofreaders.
+
+
+
+
+
+EVERYDAY LIFE LIBRARY No.1
+
+Published by EVERYDAY LIFE, Chicago
+
+THE COQUETTE'S VICTIM
+
+BY CHARLOTTE M. BRAEME
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+The Trial.
+
+
+Mr. Kent was a very able magistrate. He had sat on the bench for many
+years and was considered a man of great legal attainments and skill. He
+very seldom erred in his judgment, and being gifted with a natural
+shrewdness, he saw the difference at once between a guilty and an
+innocent man.
+
+He rarely erred; long practice had made him an adept in reading faces.
+
+But on this morning, the fourteenth of May, he was puzzled. Many cases
+had been brought before him. Drunken men dismissed with a fine and a
+reprimand, thieves sentenced to weeks or months of imprisonment, wives
+with pale faces and bruised arms had given reluctant evidence against
+husbands who had promised to love and cherish them until death.
+
+It was a bright May morning, and the sun did his best to pour through
+the dusky windows of the police court; a faint beam fell on the stolid
+faces of the policemen and ushers of the court, the witnesses and the
+lookers-on; a faint beam that yet, perhaps, brought many messages of
+bright promise to those present.
+
+A little boy had been sent on an errand with sixpence and had stolen the
+money; with many sobs and tears he confessed that he had spent it in
+cakes. Mr. Kent looked at the tear-stained face; the untidy brown head
+scarcely reached to the table, and the good magistrate thought, with
+something like pain at his heart, of a fair-haired boy at home. So he
+spoke kindly to the poor, trembling prisoner, and while he strongly
+reprimanded, still encouraged him to better ways. The boy was removed,
+and then Mr. Kent was puzzled by the prisoner who took his place.
+
+A tall, handsome young man, apparently not more than twenty, with a
+clear-cut aristocratic face, and luminous dark gray eyes. A face that no
+one could look into without admiration--that irresistibly attracted man,
+woman and child. He was a gentleman--there could be no mistake about it.
+That clear-cut Norman face had descended to him from a long line of
+ancestors; the well-built, manly figure, with its peculiar easy grace
+and dignity told of ancient lineage and noble birth.
+
+His hands were white, slender and strong, with almond-shaped
+nails--hands that had never been soiled with labor, and surely never
+stained with crime.
+
+He carried his handsome head high; it was proudly set on a firm,
+graceful neck, and covered with clusters of dark hair. He would have
+looked in his place near the throne of a queen, or, on the back of a war
+horse, leading a forlorn hope; but no one could understand his being
+prisoner in a dock. Mr. Kent looked at him, wondering with what he was
+charged. Surely, with that noble face and gentlemanly bearing, he had
+never been guilty of a common assault. Magistrate as he was, Mr. Kent
+listened to the recital of the charge, with some curiosity.
+
+Jules St. Croix, Count of the French Empire, charged the prisoner at the
+bar with having broken into his rooms for the purpose of robbery. He had
+been discovered in the count's drawing-room, where he had forced open an
+ivory casket and stolen the contents, which were an ancient and valuable
+gold watch and a gold ring, also of considerable value. At the moment
+that the count, followed by his servant, entered the room, the prisoner
+had these articles in his hand. He dropped them immediately, but the
+count, hastily calling for the police, gave him in charge.
+
+There was a smell of burned paper in the room and it was nearly eleven
+at night.
+
+The magistrate asked if the prisoner had made any resistance. Policeman
+C. No. 14, answered, "No, he gave in at once; and came straight away."
+
+Mr. Kent asked again: "Was there anything in the casket beside the
+jewelry?"
+
+It seemed to be a very insignificant question, but the prisoner and the
+count looked steadfastly at each other and both answered: "No."
+
+There were two witnesses. Robert Bolton, the count's servant, and C. No.
+14, the policeman. The evidence of the servant was taken first. He said
+that the prisoner had called several times to see his master, always
+coming when the count was from home; that he had, before, made one or
+two efforts to get into the count's room, but that he, the servant, had
+always refused him permission.
+
+On this evening the count went out early, and Robert Bolton having some
+errands to do, followed his master. About ten o'clock the prisoner
+called at the house, No. 24 Cambridge Terrace, and asked to speak to
+Count St. Croix. The landlady of the house told him the count was from
+home; then the prisoner said:
+
+"I know. I will go to his room and wait there for him."
+
+The landlady, believing him to be a perfect gentleman, allowed him to
+go up to the count's room. Robert Bolton returned home just as his
+master was at the door; when the landlady told him a gentleman was
+waiting there, it flashed instantly into his mind there was something
+wrong. He hastily told his suspicions to the count and they ran upstairs
+together. Opening the door quickly, they found the prisoner with the
+casket in one hand and the watch in the other. There was an odor of
+burnt paper in the room.
+
+The count immediately opened the window and called for the police. C.
+No. 14 was just passing, and in marvelously quick time he ran upstairs.
+
+"This man has gotten into my room on false pretences," said the count.
+"He is a stranger to me. I give him in charge for breaking open my
+casket and stealing a watch and ring from it."
+
+"What did the prisoner say."
+
+"He pointed to the watch and ring, and said: 'There they are;' then he
+looked at the count with a smile."
+
+"Did he seem frightened?"
+
+"Not the least in the world," was the answer; "just the contrary."
+
+"What happened next?"
+
+"The prisoner told him he must consider himself a prisoner on the charge
+of stealing a watch. He laughed aloud and walked away."
+
+The landlady of the house, the policeman and the count all gave the same
+evidence. It seemed very clear against him.
+
+"What have you to say?" asked, the magistrate of the prisoner.
+
+He raised his luminous gray eyes.
+
+"Not one word," he replied, in a clear, refined voice.
+
+"What is your name? I see you have refused to give any."
+
+For the first time the prisoner's face flushed crimson, and the count
+smiled malignantly.
+
+"My name is--John Smith," he replied, and again the count smiled.
+
+"Your address?"
+
+He gave some number and street which every one knew to be false.
+
+"Your occupation?" asked the magistrate again.
+
+"I have none--that is, no settled occupation," he replied.
+
+"Have you no lawyer to defend you?" asked Mr. Kent.
+
+"I require none," said the prisoner; "I have no defense. All that Count
+Jules St. Croix says is true; he found me in his room with the open
+casket in my hand."
+
+"You had gone there for the purpose of robbery?"
+
+"I have not a word to answer."
+
+"You can surely give some account of your presence there?"
+
+The prisoner smiled again.
+
+"I refuse to do so," he replied, with great firmness, yet courtesy of
+manner.
+
+"Then I must commit you for trial," said the magistrate. "Have you no
+witnesses to bring forward in your own defense now, as to character--no
+referees?" he continued.
+
+"None," was the quiet reply.
+
+"I am sorry," said Mr. Kent; "to see one who is so evidently a
+gentleman and a man of education in such a position."
+
+But there was no shame in the handsome face; none in the proud eyes. He
+raised his head with haughty grace and made no reply.
+
+"I can take bail," said Mr. Kent, but the prisoner said, "I have none to
+offer."
+
+Then was the good magistrate puzzled. He had no resource but to commit
+the young man to take his trial at the Sessions. Yet looking at the
+clear, aristocratic face, and the firm, proud lips, he could have sworn
+that the prisoner was perfectly innocent of the theft.
+
+He read pride, honesty, loyalty and chivalry in the face, yet there was
+nothing left for him to do but to commit him.
+
+He looked very grave as he did so, and then John Smith was taken away by
+the policeman. As he left the dock he turned to his accuser, the Count
+St. Croix, who stood there with a dark frown on his face; he looked at
+him for one moment, then waved his hand, as one who had won a great
+victory.
+
+"I have conquered," he said, and the count's sallow face grew pale with
+rage,
+
+"Curse you," he said, between his teeth, "I should like to stand with my
+foot on your neck."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+The Sentence.
+
+
+John Smith--for the prisoner was known by no other name--lay in prison
+until the time for his trial. He had not long to wait, but he made no
+complaint. He seemed perfectly at his ease--much more so than was Mr.
+Kent. In vain the good magistrate said to himself that it was no
+business of his; that he had nothing whatever to do with the case, he
+had simply performed his duty--done what was required of him. Yet he
+could not feel satisfied; he was sure there was a mystery, and he longed
+to fathom it.
+
+He resolved to go and see the young man, and ask him more questions, to
+try to ascertain who he really was. He went to his cell and the prisoner
+looked at him in utter surprise.
+
+"I have come purposely," said Mr. Kent, "to see if I cannot induce you
+to tell the truth over this affair. I will call you John Smith, if you
+like, yet I am sure you are a gentleman; you will not deny that?"
+
+"I neither admit nor deny anything," was the smiling reply; "I have made
+up my mind that there will be a certain punishment, and I shall go
+through it like a brave man."
+
+"Have you well considered what degradation that punishment will bring
+upon you as long as you live?"
+
+His face flushed hotly.
+
+"Since you ask me," he answered, "I tell you frankly, no; I had not
+thought of that part of the business at all--it never even occurred to
+me; my thoughts were all otherwise engrossed."
+
+"You should take it into consideration," said the magistrate. "I know
+nothing of what your position in society may be, but remember, you
+voluntarily cut yourself off from all association with even respectable
+people; a man who has been in prison cannot expect the countenance or
+fellowship of his fellow-men."
+
+"I suppose you are right," replied the young man; "although, believe me,
+never a thought of this occurred to me."
+
+"Now, would it not be better to tell the truth? Have you done it for a
+wager? is it the trick of a foolish young man? or were you really
+tempted to steal the watch?"
+
+Something like a smile curved his handsome lips.
+
+"I cannot tell you," he replied. "I am deeply grateful for your kind
+interest--indeed, I shall never forget it; but I cannot, in return, tell
+you one word."
+
+"Then I can do nothing to help you?"
+
+"No," he answered slowly; "you could not help sending me for trial. Will
+you tell me what the probable result will be, supposing, as a matter of
+course, that I am found guilty?"
+
+"Most probably, six months imprisonment, without hard labor, if it be a
+first offence."
+
+"It is the first of its kind," was the smiling reply.
+
+"You will not let me help you, then, in any way?" said Mr. Kent.
+
+"There is nothing you can do for me," said the young man, gratefully.
+
+"If you take my advice," continued the magistrate, "you will send for
+some clever lawyer; tell him the truth, whatever it may be, and while
+preserving your incognito, he may be able to do something for you. I
+should certainly do so in your place."
+
+"I think not," he replied; "the less stir made about it the better.
+Surely in the crowd of a criminal court and in the prison dress, I shall
+escape recognition?"
+
+"An admission," thought the magistrate, "that he has concealed his
+identity."
+
+"I cannot tell; I think it doubtful."
+
+"Well, whatever comes, I shall always he grateful to you, Mr. Kent, for
+your interest in me."
+
+"I am sorry you will not trust me," said the magistrate, rising to leave
+the cell.
+
+"I am still more sorry that I cannot," was the reply, and then the
+prisoner was left alone.
+
+He did not look much like a thief; there was a light on his face such as
+one sees in the pictures of the martyrs, a clear fire in the gray eyes.
+
+"My ancestors have smiled with their heads on a block," he said.
+"Surely, with such a motive, I may bear six months of prison."
+
+The day of his trial came. The report of it in the papers read as
+follows:
+
+"John Smith, aged twenty, occupation unknown, was charged by Count Jules
+St. Croix with stealing from his room an ivory casket, containing a
+watch and an antique ring of great value. The prisoner, who refused to
+give any account of himself, pleaded guilty; he made no defence, and had
+retained no counsel. The judge made a few remarks to the effect that it
+was very hard to see a young man, evidently possessed of some education
+and refinement, in such a position, then sentenced him to six months'
+imprisonment without hard labor. Prisoner made no remark, and was then
+removed."
+
+The papers did not tell of a little incident that occurred, simply
+because the reporters did not know it. During the hearing of the case,
+which did not last long, one of the leading barristers, Mr. Macfarlane,
+sat with his eyes riveted on the prisoner's face, his own growing very
+pale and anxious; then he wrote a little note, which he dispatched by a
+messenger, who soon returned, accompanied by Mr. Forster, one of the
+most celebrated lawyers in Lincoln's Inn.
+
+He spoke a few words to Mr. Macfarlane.
+
+"Nonsense!" he said; "the idea is incredible, impossible, even. What can
+have made you think of such a thing?"
+
+"Stand here in my place; you cannot see over all those heads. Now look
+well at him. Am I right or wrong?"
+
+A strange gray look came over Mr. Forster's face.
+
+"I--I believe you are right," he said. "My God! what can this mean?"
+
+"Look now! his face is turned this way! Look!" cried Mr. Macfarlane,
+eagerly.
+
+"It is he!" cried the lawyer, and he stood like one turned to stone,
+then recovering himself, he said quickly:
+
+"Why is he here? What is he charged with?"
+
+Mr. Macfarlane whispered into the lawyer's ear:
+
+"With stealing a watch and ring from the room of Count Jules St. Croix."
+
+"Absurd!" was the reply, in accents of the deepest contempt; "what
+idiotic nonsense! He steal a watch! I could believe myself mad or
+dreaming."
+
+"Then," said Mr. Macfarlane. "he has pleaded guilty; he has made no
+defence, engaged no counsel."
+
+"The boy is mad! completely mad!" cried the lawyer.
+
+"Hush!" said the barrister; "the judge is speaking."
+
+Mr. Forster stood in a most impatient mood, while the grave, clear voice
+of the judge sentenced the prisoner. Then he turned to the barrister
+abruptly.
+
+"I tell you," he cried, "the boy is mad! Steal a watch! Why, he could
+buy one-half the watches in London if he liked. I must see him. Come
+this way."
+
+"No," said Mr. Macfarlane, "he evidently does not wish to be known. I
+shall not go near him."
+
+"If he got into trouble, why in the world did he not send for me or for
+some one else?" said the lawyer to himself. "It must be a young man's
+frolic, a wager, a bet. He has spirit enough for anything. He never
+could have been such a mad fool as to wreck his life for a paltry
+watch."
+
+Mr. Forster went to the room, where with other prisoners, John Smith
+stood, awaiting his removal in the prison van. He went up to him and
+touched him on the shoulder.
+
+"Is it really you?" he cried, and the luminous gray eyes smiled into
+his.
+
+"Ah! Forster, I am sorry to see you. What has brought you here?"
+
+"It is you," said the lawyer. "I was in hopes that my senses deceived
+me."
+
+"I hope you will keep the fact of having seen me here a profound
+secret."
+
+"But in the name of heaven, what does it mean?" cried Mr. Forster. "You
+know you have not attempted to steal a watch. Pardon me, but how dare
+you plead guilty? You will cover yourself with disgrace and infamy. You
+will break your mother's heart. You will be utterly ruined for life."
+
+"My dear Forster, no one knows of my being here, and no one need know
+except yourself."
+
+"You are mistaken; you have been recognized. I was sent for to identify
+you."
+
+Then the proud face did grow pale, but the proud light did not die out
+of the gray eyes.
+
+"I am sorry for it, but I cannot help it. I must 'dree my weird.'"
+
+Mr. Forster stood looking at him like one stupefied.
+
+"If the sun had fallen from the heavens," he said, "it would not have
+surprised me more. Surely, surely you are going to trust me and tell me
+what this means?"
+
+"I cannot. Go on with everything just the same. Tell my mother I have
+gone abroad for six months, and if you value my name, keep my secret
+from spreading, if you can."
+
+And then a rough voice called John Smith to the prison van.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+The Papers Again.
+
+
+Mr. Foster went home in a terrible rage. His clerks could not imagine
+what had happened. He looked pale, worried, anxious and miserable. "I
+should not think," he said to himself, "that such a thing ever happened
+in the world before." His clients thought him bad tempered; he had the
+air of a man with whom everything had gone wrong--out of sorts with all
+the world.
+
+"The man is mad," he said to himself, with a shrug of his shoulders;
+"neither more nor less than mad to fling away his life and disgrace his
+name. It is useless to think it will never be known; those stupid papers
+are sure to get hold of it, and then there is little chance of secrecy."
+
+He went about his work with a very unsettled, wretched expression on his
+shrewd face. Something or other had evidently disturbed him very much.
+While on his part John Smith, with the same light in his face and the
+same fire in his eyes, went off in the prison van.
+
+He heard very little of what was going on around him. He seemed to be
+quite apart in some dreamland, some world of his own. When the coarse
+suit of prison clothes was brought to him, instead of the disgust the
+attendants expected to see, there came over his face a smile. To himself
+he said: "I could almost kiss them for her sweet sake."
+
+"That man is no thief," said one of the warders. "I do not care if they
+did catch him with the watch in his hand, he is no thief! I know the
+stamp!"
+
+How he passed that first day and night was best known to himself. The
+jailer who brought his breakfast the next morning said, "You look
+tired."
+
+He smiled and said to himself, "I would have gone to death for her sweet
+sake! This will be easy to bear."
+
+When that same morning dawned Mr. Forster was all impatience for his
+newspaper. Twice he rang the bell and asked if it had come, and when the
+servant brought it up he looked at it eagerly.
+
+"Give it to me quickly," he said. Then he opened it, and was soon
+engrossed in the contents. Suddenly he flung it down, and almost stamped
+upon it in his rage.
+
+"I knew it would be so! Now it will be blazoned all over England! What
+can have possessed him?"
+
+The paragraph that excited his attention and anger ran as follows:
+
+"We are informed on good authority that the John Smith tried yesterday
+on the charge of stealing a watch is no less a person than Basil
+Carruthers, Esquire, the owner of Ulverston Priory, and head of one of
+the oldest families in England."
+
+"What can I do?" cried Mr. Forster; "it will break his mother's heart;
+she can never forget it. He is ruined for life. For a lawyer, I am
+strangely unwilling to tell a lie; but it must be done! He must be saved
+at any price!" He went to his desk and wrote the following note:
+
+     "To the Editor of 'The Times':
+
+     "Sir: I beg to call your attention to a paragraph that appears in
+     'The Times' of today stating that a man, tried under the name of
+     John Smith for stealing a watch, is no less a person than Basil
+     Carruthers, Esq., of Ulverston Priory. As the solicitor of that
+     family, and manager of the Ulverston property, I beg to contradict
+     it. Mr. Carruthers, himself, informed me of his intention to go
+     abroad. Without doubt his indignant denial will follow mine. I am,
+     sir, etc.,
+
+     "Herbert Forster."
+
+"That may help him," he said. "I do not like doing it, but I cannot see
+my old friend's son perish without trying to save him. I may fail, but I
+must try. Perhaps my lie may be blotted out, like Uncle Toby's oath. If
+I can persuade him to send a denial, and date it Paris or Vienna, he
+will be saved."
+
+Mr. Forster lost no time in applying for an order to see the prisoner.
+It was granted at once.
+
+Basil Carruthers--we may use his right name now--looked up in surprise
+when Mr. Forster, with the paper in his hand, entered the cell.
+
+"Back again?" he said.
+
+"Yes; it is just as I expected; the papers have got hold of your name,
+and there is a grand expose."
+
+Basil held out his hand and read the paragraph.
+
+"It is enough to make your father rise up from his grave," said the
+lawyer; "I cannot understand what madness, what infatuation, has come
+over you, to drag such a proud name as yours through the dust."
+
+"So it is known," said Basil, slowly. "Well, I cannot help it."
+
+"I have done my best," said Mr. Forster. "I have never yet asked you if
+you stole the watch--the idea is too absurd."
+
+"They are so far right that I was found in the room; nothing else
+matters."
+
+"I can only imagine that the same folly which has brought you here will
+keep you here," said Mr. Forster. "The only thing to be done is to send
+a denial to the papers. If you will write one, I will go to Paris myself
+to post it."
+
+Basil Carruthers laughed contemptuously.
+
+"I shield myself behind a lie!" he said. "Never!"
+
+"You are too late," replied Mr. Forster; "I have already written, and
+sent, a very indignant denial, saying you have gone abroad."
+
+Basil's face grew pale, as it had not done during that trial; then an
+angry fire flashed from his eyes.
+
+"And you have dared to do this?" he cried. "You have dared to publish a
+lie to screen a Carruthers?"
+
+"I would have dared a great deal more to have saved you from public
+ignominy," said Mr. Forster.
+
+"Do not apply that word to me!" said Basil, angrily.
+
+"If I do not, every one else will. Your position is ignominious, Mr.
+Carruthers; the paltry crime you are charged with is the same; and the
+name that for centuries has been honored in England will be low in the
+dust, sir. I would rather have been dead than have seen such a day."
+
+The handsome young face changed slightly; evidently these thoughts had
+not occurred to him; he seemed to seek solace from some inward source of
+comfort of which the lawyer knew nothing.
+
+"I must bear it," he said, unflinchingly.
+
+"There is but one thing you can do," said Mr. Forster; "only one means
+of escape--write a letter at once containing a most indignant denial of
+the identity. I will go myself purposely to Paris and post it there."
+
+"My dear Forster," said the young man with a smile of languid contempt,
+"I would not ransom my life, even, with a lie!"
+
+"In my opinion," said the lawyer, bluntly, "you have done worse in
+pleading guilty--you have acted a lie, at least."
+
+"I know my own motive. I am the best judge of my own actions."
+
+"Certainly," was the sarcastic reply. "I should not think any young man
+of your prospects was ever in such a position before."
+
+"Perhaps, as I said before, no man ever had the same motive," and a look
+of heroism and high resolve came over his face which astonished the
+lawyer.
+
+"In the name of your dead father," he said, "who held the honor of his
+house so dear, I pray of you to write that letter!"
+
+"Not to save my head from the block!" he replied. "I am here, and I must
+bear all that follows. I had hoped to preserve my incognito. If I
+cannot, well, I must bear the shame."
+
+"And your mother?" asked the lawyer.
+
+"My poor mother! Perhaps, after all, you had better go down to Ulverston
+and tell her! She will begin to wonder where I am. Besides, the London
+house must be attended to."
+
+"If I know Lady Carruthers rightly," said the lawyer, "she will never
+get over the blow."
+
+"Tell her that I am here, and why, but tell her also that I refuse to
+give an explanation to any human being. Tell her the honor of the
+Carruthers seals my lips; try to comfort her if she seems distressed; do
+all she wishes you."
+
+"How am I to comfort a mother whose eldest and only son has thrown all
+prudence to the wind; who has disgraced himself so far as to stand in a
+felon's dock; who has wantonly laid his life bare and waste--for what?"
+
+A strange smile came over the young face.
+
+"Ah! for what! I know; no one else does. There is a reward, and it
+satisfies me."
+
+"If ever a Carruthers went mad," said Mr. Forster, angrily, "I should
+say you were mad now!"
+
+Basil paid no heed to the remark.
+
+"The only thing I can do," he said, "I will do. I will go to Vienna as
+soon as I leave here. I will not remain in London one-half hour."
+
+"I fear your compliance will be too late then," he said. "I must leave
+you, if I go to Ulverston this evening. I have several matters that I
+must attend to. Will any persuasion of mine induce you to alter your
+mind?"
+
+"No; though I thank you for your interest."
+
+And the lawyer left the young man's cell with something like a moan upon
+his lips.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+Ulverston Priory.
+
+
+During his walk from the prison to his office, Mr. Forster was stopped
+several times.
+
+"Is this rumor about young Carruthers true?" asked Sir James Hamlyn,
+anxiously.
+
+"No," replied the little lawyer, stoutly, "the paragraph is a joke, and
+if we can find out the author of it, he will be punished."
+
+"Serve him right. I told Lady Hamlyn there was some absurd mistake. Very
+glad to hear it. Good morning."
+
+"Mr. Forster, stop one moment!" cried Major Every; "surely this tale of
+Carruthers stealing a watch is all false?"
+
+"False as the foul fiend himself," said the little man, in a rage.
+
+"I knew it--I said so. Young men with twenty thousand a year do not
+steal. A likely story! What does it mean, then?"
+
+"Some one who owes him an ill-turn has played this sorry jest upon him;
+but we shall pay him."
+
+"He deserves transportation. I do not know a nobler young fellow in all
+the world than Basil Carruthers." A fashionable carriage was standing at
+his office door when he reached it.
+
+"The Countess of Northdown waiting to see you, sir," said the clerk.
+
+Entering his private room he saw a lovely lady, fashionably attired, who
+greeted him with exquisite grace. Her face was very pale and her lips
+quivered as she spoke to him.
+
+"Good morning, Mr. Forster. You will be surprised to see me, but knowing
+you are the family solicitor, I called to ask you if this shocking story
+about Mr. Carruthers is true."
+
+"Heaven have mercy on me this day," thought the lawyer, "my soul is
+steeped in lies."
+
+"Certainly not, Lady Northdown. Mr. Carruthers is abroad. The fact of
+the matter is, the prisoner resembles him, as a vile caricature does, at
+times, resemble the original, and some would-be wag who saw it, thought
+the writing of this absurd paragraph a great joke."
+
+"He deserves shooting," said my lady, angrily.
+
+"That may be his fate, when Mr. Carruthers catches him," was the grim
+reply.
+
+"I told Lord Northdown it was all nonsense," she continued. "I am much
+obliged to you for your kindness, Mr. Forster."
+
+There was a rustle of silken robes, a stirring of sweet perfume, and
+then Lady Northdown was gone, only to be succeeded by another and
+another, until the lawyer gave himself up for lost on account of the
+many falsehoods he had told.
+
+"Tomorrow my contradiction will set all this straight," he thought;
+"especially if it be followed by a letter from my lady, and I must
+compel her to write. I would as soon try to drive wild oxen as to
+persuade a Carruthers."
+
+He was not able to start for Ulverston until the end of the afternoon.
+It was full two hours' ride by rail from London, and all the way there
+the lawyer was worrying himself with conjectures, and trying to solve
+what he thought honestly the greatest mystery he had ever known.
+
+It was six o'clock on a bright May evening when he reached Ulverston.
+
+He ordered a fly, and drove at once to the Priory. More than half that
+busy town of Rutsford belonged to the Carruthers. They were lords of the
+manor, masters of the soil. To them belonged also the fertile lands, the
+profitable farms, the hop gardens, and broad meadows that stretched
+between Rutsford and the Priory.
+
+As the lawyer drove through this rich inheritance, his wonder increased.
+
+What could possess any man blessed with such a birthright to place
+himself in so false and degraded a position?
+
+Then the carriage entered the Ulverston woods, said by connoisseurs to
+be the finest and most picturesque in England. Such a glorious sight on
+this May evening as made the lawyer's heart beat, though many years had
+passed since the fountain of poetry flowed for him. The hawthorn and
+chestnut trees were all in flower; the maple and ash wore their most
+luxuriant foliage. The grand old oaks in their leafy boughs concealed
+myriads of singing birds; underneath the shade of the trees, the blue
+hyacinths stretched out like the waves of the azure sea, the violets hid
+their modest heads, great golden primroses shone like stars from the
+midst of green leaves. The air was sweet and warm; the music of the
+birds and the whispers of the wind were full of melody.
+
+"A man possessed of all this," thought Mr. Forster again; "he must be
+mad."
+
+Then the carriage stopped before the grand entrance of one of the most
+magnificent mansions in England. Ulverston Priory--whose beauty has been
+described, in prose and in verse, by pens more eloquent than mine.
+
+"Is Lady Carruthers at home?" asked Mr. Forster of the stately old
+butler.
+
+"My lady is at home, sir."
+
+"Will you ask if it is convenient for me to see her? I have come hastily
+from London on important business."
+
+With all the solemnity an old family retainer displays on such
+occasions, the butler led the way to the library.
+
+"I will send your message to my lady at once, sir."
+
+He went away and soon returned.
+
+"My lady is dressing, but she will be with you in a few minutes." He
+placed a decanter of the famous Ulverston sherry on the table, and
+withdrew. Mr. Forster gladly helped himself to a glass. "I would take
+that or anything else to give me courage," he said to himself. "How am I
+to tell her? I know not."
+
+In a quarter of an hour the door opened, and a stately lady,
+magnificently dressed, entered the room. She was very dignified, of
+queenly presence and bearing, with the remains of great beauty in her
+face.
+
+She bowed most courteously to the lawyer, and held out her white,
+jeweled hand.
+
+"Good evening, Mr. Forster," she said; "your visit has taken me by
+surprise. You are well. I hope?"
+
+"Quite well, Lady Carruthers, myself. Quite well, I thank you."
+
+But his manner was so confused, his face so flushed, that the stately
+lady looked at him in wonder.
+
+"And my son, Mr. Forster! Have you seen him lately? Have you left him
+well?"
+
+"He was in perfect health, Lady Carruthers, when I saw him last,"
+replied the lawyer, stiffly.
+
+"I am glad of it. I have no wish to complain, but I have not heard from
+my son lately. He has not time to write, I suppose."
+
+"There will be no use in beating about the bush," the lawyer thought. "I
+had better speak plainly at once."
+
+"Lady Carruthers," he said, "have you seen today's 'Times'?"
+
+"No," she replied; "I have been so deeply engaged with visitors, I have
+really not opened it."
+
+"Then I must ask you to prepare yourself for something very
+disagreeable. I wish I knew how to save you from the knowledge--but I do
+not."
+
+The diamond necklace rose and fell as though she breathed heavily; her
+face grew quite white.
+
+"Does it concern my son, Mr. Carruthers?" she asked.
+
+"Alas, that I must say yes, Lady Carruthers," he answered; "I am not a
+man of sentiment, but I would give many years of my life to spare you
+this pain."
+
+"Is he dead?" she asked, hoarsely.
+
+"No, it is not so bad as that," he replied.
+
+"Not death; and I know it is not disgrace. I can bear what you have to
+tell me, Mr. Forster."
+
+He took both papers from his pocket and laid them before her.
+
+"Read this paragraph first," he said; "and then this."
+
+She did as he wished. When she read the second, her proud face flushed,
+and she drew her figure to its full height.
+
+"What does this mean?" she said, contemptuously. "My son, Mr.
+Carruthers, charged with stealing a watch? What does it mean, Mr.
+Forster?"
+
+"Lady Carruthers," said the lawyer, "it is true. I was in court when
+your son, under the name of John Smith, pleaded guilty to the charge of
+getting in the room belonging to Count Jules St. Croix, and I, myself,
+heard him sentenced to six months' imprisonment."
+
+She sat for some minutes, silent, mute and motionless. Then in a low
+voice she asked: "Is he mad?"
+
+"That was my first thought. It is some weeks since I had seen him, and
+yesterday morning a note was brought to my office, from a gentleman in
+court, telling me your son was in the dock. I hastened there and found
+it true. You may imagine how quickly I followed him and implored of him
+to tell me the mystery, for mystery I feel sure there is. Instead of
+looking ashamed of himself and miserable, he had a light in his face
+that puzzled me. I blamed him, told him the consequences--how his life
+would be useless to him after this, but he only smiled; my words made no
+impression on him; he evidently derived comfort and support from some
+source known to himself and no others."
+
+"And is it possible?" asked Lady Carruthers, with ghastly face; "does he
+lie in prison now?"
+
+"He does indeed, and there he must remain until the six months are
+ended."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+Lady Carruthers.
+
+
+My lady rose from her seat with an air of almost tragical dignity.
+
+"My son in prison!" she cried; "I cannot believe it. What has come over
+him? Can you explain the mystery to me, Mr. Forster?"
+
+"I cannot--the only thing that occurs to me is that he has gone to this
+count's room for some purpose that he will confide to no one, and that
+he has taken the watch in his hands and was discovered with it. He asked
+me to tell you that the honor of the Carruthers sealed his lips."
+
+"Did he say that--my Basil, Mr. Forster? If that be the case, rest
+assured--although I blush to say it--there is a woman in it. I can
+imagine Basil capable of suffering anything from a mistaken motive of
+chivalry. Do you know with whom Mr. Carruthers has chiefly associated
+since he has been in town?"
+
+"I do not. I know that he has been in a very fast and fashionable set;
+he told me as much; also that he has spent a good deal of money. One
+check for three thousand pounds vanished in a day, and he gave no
+account of it."
+
+"Three thousand pounds!" cried Lady Carruthers; "yet he neither drank,
+betted nor gambled."
+
+"No," said the lawyer; "Mr. Carruthers told me he had never touched a
+card and never would. I know he did not care for betting."
+
+The proud, anxious mother raised her eyes to the lawyer's face. "How,
+then, do you think he has got through it?"
+
+"I cannot tell. You must pardon me, my lady, if I remind you that
+although I am family solicitor, agent and manager of the property, I am
+not the guardian of your son."
+
+"I know," she said, clasping her hands. "I little thought he would ever
+need a guardian; he seemed all that was honorable and upright. I cannot
+imagine what has changed him. I regret so bitterly that I let him go to
+London alone."
+
+"It is a terrible position," said the lawyer; "the only thing is to
+clear him as much as we can. The moment I read this I wrote an answer
+and sent it to the 'Times' to the effect that Mr. Carruthers had gone
+abroad."
+
+A slight frown came over the delicate face.
+
+"I implored Mr. Carruthers to write an indignant denial, and to let me
+go to Paris to post it, but he would not hear of such a thing; the very
+idea seemed offensive to him. I hope, Lady Carruthers, to induce you to
+write such a letter."
+
+"What kind of a letter?" she asked.
+
+"One to the editor of the 'Times' denying the report, and saying that
+your son has gone abroad."
+
+"But that would be grossly untrue," she said.
+
+"Yes, yes! I know that, still if we can save him, we should."
+
+"I will try any honorable means you choose to suggest," she replied;
+"but not even to save my son from death could I consent to write or
+publish a lie."
+
+"Of course you know best, Lady Carruthers," said the lawyer, with a
+shrug of the shoulders. "Words are but words, and very few of them might
+have saved your son from public shame."
+
+"I have never yet believed in the success of a lie," said her ladyship.
+
+"Pardon me," said Mr. Forster, grimly, "then you have forgotten the
+pages of history. I came down purposely to persuade your ladyship to do
+this. I am well aware that at first sight it seems contrary to all one's
+notions of truth and honor, but there is so much at stake. My denial,
+couched in strong terms, will appear tomorrow. If it were succeeded by a
+letter from your ladyship, written in the same strain, people would
+laugh and believe that it was a great mistake. I had so many inquiries
+this morning before I left London, and I gave the same answer to all,
+that it was the sorry jest of an evil-disposed person. If your ladyship
+would but second my efforts, all would be well; we could get him through
+in safety."
+
+But Lady Carruthers had risen from her seat and stood with her proud
+figure drawn to its utmost height.
+
+"I will do anything you propose, save tell a lie. If my son can be
+rescued by no other means, he must bear his punishment."
+
+"Then my journey is in vain," said Mr. Forster. "I may return to London
+at once."
+
+"No," said Lady Carruthers; "I cannot allow you to return after that
+long journey--you must stay and dine with us. Pardon me," she said,
+seeing that he looked hurt and uncomfortable. "I have spoken strongly,
+but truth has always been far dearer to me than life. I do full justice
+to your motives. I appreciate your kindness, but in this manner I cannot
+help you. Stay and take dinner with us; then we can consult as to what
+is best to be done."
+
+"May I give your ladyship one piece of advice?" said the lawyer. "Have
+the papers--yesterday's and today's--destroyed, so that no rumor of
+anything amiss can reach your servants; also say nothing of it--it may
+possibly die away, as some rumors do. Your visitors and friends will not
+broach such a subject to you, I am sure."
+
+"I shall not mention it," she replied; "although Marion will be sure to
+suspect something wrong." At that moment the last dressing-bell rang.
+
+"You will join us in a few minutes," said Lady Carruthers; "never mind
+your traveling-dress; Miss Hautville and I are quite alone."
+
+No one who saw Lady Carruthers leave the library with stately step and
+dignified air, would have believed that she had received a blow which
+laid her life and all her hopes in ruins--as the lightning smites the
+lofty oak. She went back to her sumptuous bedroom that she had left half
+an hour ago, so calm and serene, so unconscious of coming evil. Looking
+in the mirror, she saw her face was deadly pale--there was no trace of
+color left on it, and deep lines had come on her brow that had been so
+calm.
+
+"It will not do to look so pale," said Lady Carruthers; and from one of
+the mysterious little drawers she took a small powder puff that soon
+remedied the evil.
+
+Then she went to the dining-room. Miss Hautville and Mr. Forster were
+talking together like old acquaintances, and the three sat down to
+dinner together.
+
+Mr. Forster was, as he himself often said, a grim old lawyer, without
+any poetry or romance, but even he could not sit opposite the pale, pure
+loveliness of Marion Hautville unmoved; there was something about her
+that reminded one irresistibly of starlight, delicate, graceful, holy
+veiled loveliness. She was slender and graceful, with a figure that was
+charming now, but that promised, in years to come, to be superb; the
+same promise of magnificent womanhood was in the lovely delicate face.
+The pure profile, the delicate brows, the shining hair, braided Madonna
+fashion, were all beautiful, but looking at her, one realized there was
+greater beauty to come.
+
+She looked across the table with a smile.
+
+"And now, Mr. Forster, you have told me how London looks; tell me
+something about my cousin, Mr. Carruthers."
+
+He made some indifferent answer, and as he did so, he thought to
+himself:
+
+"Can it be possible, that with a chance of winning this lovely girl--one
+of the richest heiresses in London--that Basil Carruthers has given his
+heart to some worthless creature, who has spent his money and helped him
+to prison?"
+
+A question that, if our readers will kindly follow us, we will answer in
+the succeeding chapters.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+Youth Full of Beauty and Promise.
+
+
+There was no man of greater note in England than the late Royston
+Carruthers, Esq., Lord of the Manor of Rutsford. He was one of the
+ablest statesmen and finest orators in England. He had been returned for
+the Borough of Rutsford for many years, without opposition. To hear him
+make a speech was a decided treat; a handsome man of stately presence,
+he invested every word with new dignity. The grand volume of sound
+rolled on in one continuous stream; the ideas he expressed were noble,
+the sentiments patriotic and exalted; his gestures were full of
+animation and grace.
+
+Royston Carruthers had done great service to his country in his time. He
+had advocated several important measures; his eloquence had facilitated
+the introduction of several bills; his country thought well of him, and
+for a wonder, was grateful to him.
+
+Government offered him the title of Baron Rutsford of Rutsford, and he
+had declined it, saying that his ancestors had for years asked no higher
+title than that of Lord of the Manor, and he valued his name--Carruthers
+of Ulverston--too highly to ever exchange it for another.
+
+In the very pride and zenith of his prosperity he married the Lady
+Hildegarde Blenholme, the only daughter of the Duke of Blenholme. She
+was a very beautiful and accomplished woman--proud to a fault, but
+generous and noble in disposition. They had one child, Basil, and while
+he was yet a boy, his father died, worn out with work and over-exertion.
+He left his wife, Lady Hildegarde Carruthers, sole guardian of the boy,
+expressing a wish that she should bring him up to resemble herself in
+mind and disposition as far as it was possible.
+
+Three years after the great statesman's death, a cousin of Lady
+Hildegarde died, leaving her only child, Marion Hautville, under the
+sole care and guardianship of the mistress of Ulverston Priory.
+
+"Bring her up as you would a daughter of your own," wrote the dying
+mother. "She has a large fortune--save her from fortune-hunters."
+
+And Lady Carruthers scrupulously carried out her kinswoman's wish. She
+took the girl to her own home, Ulverston Priory; she superintended her
+education; she brought her up in simple, refined habits--succeeded in
+making of her a perfect lady and a noble woman.
+
+Then the dearest wish of her heart was to see her son, the heir to
+Ulverston, marry Marion Hautville, one of the loveliest girls and
+wealthiest heiresses in England. She was far too wise ever to express
+such a wish openly, none the less it was deeply engraven on her heart.
+They were warmly attached to each other and Lady Carruthers fancied that
+she already saw some signs of liking on the part of Marion for Basil.
+
+While Miss Hautville pursued her quiet, ordinary course of education
+under Lady Carruthers' roof, Basil went through Eton and Oxford; at both
+places he gained high honors and at both places he succeeded in puzzling
+his tutors and masters. He was of such a peculiar disposition;
+chivalrous, romantic, brave, yet with something about him--they could
+not define what, but quite unlike other boys.
+
+He did not evince any taste for any particular branch of study; he had
+no inclination for the navy, for serving his country as his father had
+done before him. In fact, it was difficult to tell in what direction his
+taste really lay. Still, he left college with high honors, and his
+masters prophesied great things for him.
+
+"He will make himself famous some day," they wrote to his anxious
+mother. "In the mean time, let him see something of the world, and you
+will know in what direction his talent lies."
+
+So, crowded with honors, he came home to Ulverston. He was eighteen then
+and one of the handsomest young men England could boast. No barber's
+beauty; strong, comely, of noble bearing, with a face that had come to
+him from the crusaders of old.
+
+Then Lady Hildegarde set herself to work to discover what manner of man
+her son was. She was puzzled; he was brave, generous, full of high
+spirits, truthful, even to bluntness. She could not discover any grave
+fault in him. She thanked God he had no vices, no mean faults, no
+contemptible failings.
+
+"Basil," she said to him, one evening, as the three sat around the
+drawing-room fire. "Confess now, do you not like and admire the olden
+times better than these?"
+
+"Yes," he replied; "I always did."
+
+"I knew it," said Lady Hildegarde; "I understand now what has always
+puzzled everyone who has had the care of you. You were born two hundred
+years too late; the ancient days of knight errantry and chivalry would
+have suited you better than these."
+
+"It is your fault, mother," he replied. "When I was only twelve years
+old, you gave me a beautiful edition of Froissart's Chronicles, and
+everything else has seemed dull and tame to me since."
+
+"I thought as much," she said, quietly; "you make the same mistake
+others have made before you; you live in the past, not in the present."
+
+"You are right, mother; in these days, there seems to me nothing to do."
+
+"Your father thought differently," she said; "he died from overwork."
+
+"Ah! my dear father was a genius," said the young man, thoughtfully, and
+for some minutes there was silence between them.
+
+"I can understand you," said Lady Hildegarde, with a smile; "you would
+like to have been a knight, always looking out for some romantic
+adventure; you would have fought giants, released distressed
+princesses."
+
+"Overthrown all wrong and upheld all right," he said; "that would have
+been my vocation."
+
+Lady Hildegarde went over to him and laid her hand on his head. "My
+dearest boy, you are young yet, but will live to see that there is as
+much to be done in the way of redressing wrong now as there was in the
+days when knights rode forth to do battle for lady fair."
+
+"I want some romantic adventure," he said; "I cannot see much in the
+plain, common ways of man. I should like to do something that would make
+me a hero at once, something brave and glorious."
+
+"My dear boy," she said; "God grant you may learn to distinguish true
+from false, true romance from mere sentiment, true gold from mere
+glitter."
+
+He looked so eager, so handsome, she kissed him with passionate love.
+
+"I should like to have been one of King Arthur's knights," he said,
+musingly.
+
+"My dear Basil," said his mother; "your mind is chaos. I tell you there
+are giants to be fought, hydra-headed ones--the giants of ignorance, of
+wickedness, of injustice, and they call for a sharper, keener sword than
+that wielded by the knights of old."
+
+And there came into her heart a great fear lest her boy, who had too
+much imagination, too much ideality, would waste his life in dreams.
+
+"I will tell you, Basil," said Marion Hautville; "what I call a great
+hero. The man who does his duty perfectly in the state of life in which
+God has placed him."
+
+"We all do that," replied Basil.
+
+"Indeed we do not--you do not, to begin with. You ought now, instead of
+dreaming about Froissart and his barbaric times, you ought to be
+studying hard how to make a good master of this large estate--how to
+employ the vast wealth given to you--how best to serve your God, your
+country and those who will depend upon you."
+
+"Solomon in petticoats!" cried Basil, gaily, and Marion joined in his
+laugh.
+
+That conversation gave Lady Carruthers many uneasy moments. She
+understood so well the dreamy, yet ardent, romantic temperament of the
+boy.
+
+"What shall I make of him?" she said. "Will he ever learn to live
+contentedly here at Ulverston, doing his duty, as Marion says, to God
+and man? My poor Basil, he lives too late!"
+
+She asked advice from those best fitted to give it. One and all said the
+same thing; there would be nothing so useful for him as a tour on the
+Continent, seeing plenty of the world and going into society.
+
+So Lady Carruthers, who loved home very dearly, gave up its peaceful
+tranquillity, and went with Basil and Miss Hautville to Paris, where
+they remained some months until they saw all that was most brilliant in
+that brilliant capital; from there to Berlin; then on to Vienna, and
+Basil lost much of his dreamy nature.
+
+He was eager, ardent, impetuous, longing, as is the fashion of young
+men, to do brave deeds, to be a great hero, and not in the least knowing
+what to do.
+
+He was just twenty when they returned home, at the commencement of the
+year; Lady Carruthers, worn out with travel and excitement, longing for
+rest. There was more to be done--her son had been presented at most of
+the courts of Europe; he must attend the first levees held in London
+this season.
+
+The Carruthers had a magnificent mansion in Belgravia. Miss Hautville
+begged for one year more of seclusion and privacy, so that Lady
+Hildegarde and her son went to London alone. She remained there for a
+week, and then, finding her son afloat in London society, she returned
+to Ulverston.
+
+And Basil Carruthers, the dreamy, ardent, romantic boy, remained in
+London alone.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+A Modern Bayard.
+
+
+Perhaps Lady Carruthers never did a more unwise thing than when she left
+her son, with his peculiar temperament and notions, to go through a
+London season alone. She honestly believed herself to be doing right.
+She was ill and unable to bear the whirl of fashion and gaiety. She
+could not withdraw him from town to spend the gayest month of the year
+in seclusion.
+
+"Leave him to me, Hildegarde," said her cousin, Colonel Mostyn. "I will
+pilot him safely through the rocks and deep waters; nothing makes a man
+as self-reliant as feeling that he is trusted entirely."
+
+And knowing that Colonel Mostyn was an elderly man, who knew about as
+much as there was to know of life in all its phases, Lady Hildegarde had
+no scruples.
+
+The colonel and the young squire were most luxuriously established at
+Roche House, the Carruthers' family mansion in Belgravia. Lady
+Hildegarde made every arrangement for keeping up the establishment in
+all bachelor's comforts. There was an excellent housekeeper, one who had
+been at Ulverston Priory for many years.
+
+"You will be able to give some good dinner-parties," she said to her
+son; "bachelor dinners--bien entender--for Mrs. Richards is an excellent
+housekeeper."
+
+Assured and satisfied that all would go well, she left London. She
+hesitated as to whether she should give her son any warning about love
+or marriage, then decided that it would be quite useless.
+
+"The boy is naturally so fastidious and refined," she thought; "he will
+never love beneath him. He will see no one so nice as Marion."
+
+So Lady Hildegarde Carruthers went to her stately home, little dreaming
+of the fatal news that was to follow her.
+
+Basil cared little for the fashions and frivolities of the day; Colonel
+Mostyn tried to laugh him out of his romantic and chivalrous ideas.
+
+"You are behind the age, Basil--quite unfit for it," he would say to
+him. "Chevalier Bayard would not be appreciated in these times."
+
+He listened with a smile on his face, while the young man talked of
+something to do--some grand action to fill up his life, some heroic deed
+with which to crown himself.
+
+"Utopian, Basil--all those are Utopian ideas. Progress is the order of
+the day."
+
+"Is there nothing?" asked Basil, "no way in which a man may distinguish
+himself after the fashion of the heroes of old?"
+
+The colonel smiled sarcastically.
+
+"My dear boy," he said, "between ourselves, some of those heroes of
+yours were unmitigated ruffians, I hardly like to give utterance to such
+a sentiment, yet I believe it. You cannot defend a bridge after the
+fashion of Horatius--you cannot conquer worlds like Alexander. I fancy
+you will have to be content with being one of the best lords of the
+manor Rutsford has ever known."
+
+"You are sentimental, Basil," he said to him one morning, "but not
+practical. A man is nothing unless he is practical. Why not give up all
+these foolish notions of being a great hero? Go down to Ulverston,
+build schools, almhouses, mechanics' institutes and all that kind of
+thing. Marry and bring up your family to fear God and serve the queen.
+One ounce of such practice is worth all the theory in the world."
+
+But Basil could not see it--he longed for the unattainable, the ideal.
+What lay plainly before him was a matter of great indifference to him.
+
+Colonel Mostyn, the keen, cynical man of the world, was, perhaps, the
+best companion he could have had. But the colonel had many anxious
+thoughts over him. At last an idea struck him.
+
+"The finest thing that could happen to Basil would be a very decided
+flirtation with a beautiful, worldly woman, who would laugh him out of
+these fantastic ideas and make a modern man of him."
+
+So thought the colonel, and so has thought many a one before him, little
+dreaming of the danger of playing with fire.
+
+But Basil did not seem to care much for ladies' society. He went to two
+or three grand balls and pronounced them stupid, on hearing which, the
+colonel raised his eyes and hands in horror.
+
+"A young man of twenty who finds a ball stupid is past hope," he said.
+
+There had been a great flutter in the dovecotes when it was known that
+Basil Carruthers, the heir of Ulverston, son of the great statesman, a
+young man whose income was quite twenty thousand per annum, besides the
+savings of a long minority, was in London--free, disengaged, and, as a
+matter of course, wanting a wife. Invitations literally poured in upon
+him--he accepted them at first, but soon grew tired.
+
+"A tres dansantes at Lady Cecilia Gorton's," he said, holding out an
+invitation card at arm's length. "Go, if you like, colonel. I do not
+care for it."
+
+The colonel was engrossed in the buttering of his roll, an operation
+which he always performed himself, but he was sufficiently astonished to
+pause in his proceedings and look at his nephew with a very horrified
+face.
+
+"You do not mean to tell me, Basil, that you are tired of ladies--young
+ladies?"
+
+"My dear colonel," said the young man, quietly, "I am very sorry to tell
+you that I find one chignon very much the same as another."
+
+Colonel Mostyn sighed deeply. What Mentor could make anything out of
+such a Telemachus? He resigned himself, thankful that what he called one
+civilized taste remained--Basil enjoyed the opera.
+
+"I would really sooner see him fall in love with an opera dancer than
+remain what he is," thought the man of the world.
+
+One evening they went to the opera. It was "Lucretia Borgia," and, as
+usual, Basil Carruthers saw nothing but the stage. In vain did the
+unwearied colonel call his attention to Lady Evelyn Hope, the lovely
+blonde; the fascinating Spanish Countess Rosella; to the twin sisters,
+the Ladies Isabel and Marie Duncan--he looked at them without interest.
+
+"I wonder," thought the colonel to himself, "if the woman be living who
+could touch that cold, icy heart!"
+
+The opera was nearly over when he saw Basil looking intently at the
+occupants of a box on the grand tier. He even raised his glass, and sat
+for some minutes oblivious of everything and everyone except one central
+figure. Very quietly and without attracting Basil's attention, Colonel
+Mostyn raised his glass and looked at the box. His gaze was steadfast
+for some minutes, then he gave utterance to a prolonged sigh.
+
+"That will do," he said to himself.
+
+Like the diplomatist that he was, Colonel Mostyn said never a word, but
+when the act was ended, he turned to Basil.
+
+"I see a lady, an old friend of mine, and I am going to spend a few
+minutes with her."
+
+He went to the box, and had the satisfaction of seeing that Basil never
+removed his glass. When he returned to his own seat, the heir of
+Ulverston said, somewhat eagerly:
+
+"Who is that lady, colonel, with whom you have been speaking?"
+
+"My dear boy," he replied, "one chignon is just like another; which do
+you mean?"
+
+"There is no chignon in this case. I mean the lady with whom you have
+been speaking."
+
+"That is Lady Amelie Lisle," he replied, briefly.
+
+"Amelie Lisle!" repeated Basil; "but who is she?"
+
+"If you wish to know her pedigree, you must consult Burke's Peerage. I
+can only remember that she is the daughter of Lord Grayson, who married
+a French duchess, and rumor says she is the loveliest and most
+accomplished woman in England."
+
+"Is she married?" was the next question.
+
+"Yes; she married Lord Lisle, and rumor, always busy with beautiful
+women, says again that she is not too happy. Do you know Lord Lisle?"
+
+"No; I do not remember having ever seen him."
+
+"When you do, you will realize what it is for a man to be all animal. He
+eats well, sleeps well, drinks well; he rides out a great deal in the
+fresh air; he is tall and portly, never, perhaps, read a book through in
+his life, good humored, generous in his way, but obstinate as a--well,
+as a woman."
+
+"And is that lovely lady married to such a man?"
+
+"Yes; the lovely lady was very young, and perhaps his fortune tempted
+her. She is all fire and poetry, plays with passion as children play
+with sharp knives."
+
+"Will you introduce me?" asked Basil Carruthers.
+
+"My dear Basil," replied the wily diplomatist, with an air of assumed
+frankness, "I really do not think you would like her. She is fond of
+balls, of dancing, of all sorts of amusements that you despise. If I
+introduce you to anybody at all, it must be to Minerva in disguise."
+
+"I should not like Minerva," was the abrupt reply.
+
+"Well, as you seem anxious, I will undertake it. We are going to the
+Duchess of Hexham's ball tomorrow evening. Lady Amelie Lisle is sure to
+be there--no grand ball is complete without her. She is so surrounded
+now. I hardly like to interrupt her. Are you going to the Hexham ball?"
+
+Now Basil had said no, he should certainly decline the invitation, but
+he seemed to forget it.
+
+"Certainly I shall go," he said.
+
+"Ah, then we shall see her there," replied the colonel, and his long
+mustache concealed the triumphant smile with which he listened to the
+words.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+Lady Amelie at Home.
+
+
+The poets of old must have been thinking of a woman like Lady Amelie
+when they wrote of circes and sirens, and women whose beauty has proved
+fatal to men. It is perhaps quite as well that they are very rare--the
+power of a beautiful woman is great. If she be good, and use it for a
+good purpose; the world is the better for it. If she be bad, and her
+beauty is simply used as a lure, the world is the worse for it.
+
+Either for good or evil, the power of Lady Amelie was great, for a more
+royally beautiful woman had seldom been seen. She was the very ideal of
+glowing, luxurious loveliness, and her beauty was perhaps the least of
+her charms. She had that wonderful gift of fascination which makes even
+a plain woman irresistible. Allied to beauty so wondrous as hers, it was
+fatal.
+
+It is morning, and Lady Amelie, fresh and radiant as a June rose, is in
+her boudoir, an exquisite little room, hung with pink silk and white
+lace; the windows were draped with pink silk, and the light that came
+through was subdued and rosy, the fairest of all lights in which to see
+a fair woman.
+
+A gem of a room, from which a painter would have made a room glowing in
+luxurious color. The air was heavy with the perfume of white hyacinths
+and daphnes--the jardinieres were filled with the sweetest of flowers;
+Lady Amelie loved them so well; she was never so pleased as when in the
+midst of them. There was a marble Flora, whose hands were filled with
+purple heliotropes--in fact, every beauty that money, taste or luxury
+could suggest, was there. Pale pink was a color that Lady Amelie
+loved--her chairs and couches were covered with it. She is sitting now
+in a pretty, fantastic chair, the subdued rosy light of the room falling
+full upon her. She is reading the fashionable daily paper, smiling as
+some on dits meet her eye. Surely such beauty as that should be
+immortal. No wonder that Basil Carruthers, whose eyes had never rested
+long on a woman's face before, should not weary of hers.
+
+It is the beauty of an empress, royal, commanding, statuesque, yet
+radiant and full of grace. Her figure, as she reclines, is perfection;
+the soft, flowing lines, the gracious curves, the free, unfettered
+grace, the queenly dignity, all combined, enchant one. The head, whose
+contour is simply perfect, is crowned with a mass of dark hair, shining
+like the lustrous wing of some rare bird. The brow is white, rounded at
+the temples and clear as the leaf of the lily. The brows are straight,
+delicate and have in them wonderful expression. But it was Lady Amelie's
+eyes that drew men so irresistibly to her feet. They were irresistible.
+Black, with a languid, golden light in their wondrous depths; full of
+veiled fire and repressed passion. They could melt and flash, persuade
+and command, as no other eyes did. No man ever looked into their depths
+without losing himself there. Her mouth was no less beautiful, tender
+and sensitive; yet those lovely lips could curl with scorn that withered
+and pride that crashed.
+
+She knew that she was beautiful, and she rejoiced in her beauty, as the
+lion in his strength or the serpent in its cunning. Men she looked upon
+as her natural vassals, her subjects, her lawful prey. She never once,
+in the whole course of her triumphant life, paused to think whether or
+not she inflicted pain. If any one had said to her, abruptly, "You have
+made such a person suffer," she would have laughed gaily. The ache and
+pain of honest hearts is incense to a coquette.
+
+And Lady Amelie Lisle was a coquette to the very depth of her heart! She
+could have counted her victims by the hundred. Who ever saw her and did
+not love her? She delighted in this universal worship; it became
+necessary to her as the air she breathed. Universal dominion was her end
+and aim; but once sure of a man's love or admiration, it became
+worthless to her and she longed for something fresh. Like Alexander, she
+would have conquered worlds.
+
+Not, be it understood, that Lady Amelie, as she expressed it, "ever went
+in for anything serious." She had never been in love in her life, except
+with herself, and to that one affection she was most constant. She
+accepted all, but gave none. Once or twice her flirtations had been on
+the verge, but Lady Amelie was one of those who can look very steadily
+over the brink but never fall in.
+
+The world spoke well of her. "She was certainly a great coquette,"
+people said, indulgently, but then she was so beautiful and so much
+admired. She smiles as she reads the fashionable intelligence; there is
+a paragraph describing her appearance at a ball given by one of the
+queens of society. The paper speaks of her beauty, her magnificent dress
+and costly jewels. She remembered all the homage, the sighs, the
+whispered words, the honeyed compliments, smiled and thought how sweet
+life was.
+
+At that moment her maid entered. "My lady," she said. "Colonel Mostyn
+would be so much obliged if you could see him. It is on important
+business."
+
+"Certainly. I will see him here," she replied. "What can he want with
+me?" thought my lady. "He was very empresse last night; surely he is not
+going to make love to me."
+
+And the notion of a gray-haired lover piqued her and made her smile
+again.
+
+The colonel entered with the most courtly of bows, and she received him
+graciously. He talked of the opera, of the ball, of the last new novel,
+of the latest marriage on the tapis, and all the time Lady Lisle's
+beautiful eyes were looking at him. "It was not for this you came," she
+thought. At last the colonel spoke openly.
+
+"I have come to ask of you a great favor, Lady Lisle," he said. "You
+have perhaps heard of my young kinsman, Basil Carruthers?"
+
+"The heir of Ulverston?" she said. "Certainly. He is one of the prizes
+in the matrimonial market at present, colonel."
+
+Colonel Mostyn drew a very animated and interesting portrait of his
+young charge.
+
+"He wants modernizing; his ideas are dated two hundred years back. Lady
+Lisle, there is no one who could work such wonders for him as you."
+
+"What could I do?" she asked, with a conscious smile.
+
+"You could modernize him and humanize him. Will you allow me to
+introduce him to you? And will you take him in hand a little--teach him
+something of life as it is, not as he dreams of it?"
+
+"What if he burns his wings, like many other silly moths?" she asked,
+laughingly.
+
+"It would do him all the good in the world," he replied, with
+enthusiasm. "Will you believe, Lady Lisle, that he never admired any
+one, not even Lady Evelyn Hope? He never admired any face until he saw
+yours last evening." That piqued her. "I have never seen anything like
+his indifference to all ladies. Dear Lady Lisle, you are the brilliant
+sun that alone can melt this icicle. I assure you, that his mother and
+myself are in despair."
+
+"You must not blame me," she said, "for whatever happens. You choose to
+run the risk."
+
+"Nothing can happen but what will be for his greatest good," said the
+colonel, gallantly.
+
+"You may introduce him to me," said Lady Amelie, "and I will do the best
+I can for him."
+
+"You will be at the Duchess of Hexham's ball this evening?" he asked.
+
+"Yes," she replied. "You have described your charge, Colonel Mostyn; now
+I know the carte du pays. It would be better not to mention having seen
+me."
+
+"Certainly not"--
+
+"Let me see," she interrupted. "I am to teach him what life is like in
+this nineteenth century, to try to inoculate him with modern ideas; to
+teach him how to appreciate the society of ladies; he shall learn his
+lesson well."
+
+There was something in her peerless face and her brilliant smile that
+made Colonel Mostyn pause, and wonder if after all he had done a wise
+thing.
+
+"The boy cannot be hurt," he said to himself; "he has too much sense to
+fall in love with a married lady. A violent flirtation will do him good,
+and cure him of his absurd ideas."
+
+"Your ladyship will be the benefactress of the whole family if you can
+rescue our young hero, and help us make him in some degree fit for the
+age he lives in."
+
+Lady Amelie smiled; there was not much fear in her failing in anything
+she undertook.
+
+"It is not often that young men err on the side of originality and
+singularity," she said; "I have always considered realism the sin of the
+age. I am quite curious to see your hero, Colonel Mostyn."
+
+"I believe he is quite as anxious to see you, Lady Lisle; he positively
+asked me to introduce him to you, and that is a request he has never
+made before, though I have shown him some beautiful women."
+
+"I ought to feel flattered," said Lady Amelie, and again there was
+something in her smile that made the colonel wonder whether he had done
+amiss.
+
+"We are quite in a conspiracy," he said, and Lady Lisle laughingly
+assured him that all women were fond of plots.
+
+"Your sex, my dear colonel, are so strong and so wise that it is a real
+pleasure to any poor weak woman to outwit you." And Lady Amelie shot him
+a glance from her beautiful eyes that made the colonel again half pity
+his young kinsman.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+Weaving the Spell.
+
+
+The Duchess of Hexham bore the reputation of being a most accomplished
+woman; if she excelled in anything it was certainly the giving of balls.
+She had the largest, loftiest and best ball-room in London. It was never
+overcrowded.
+
+"As many flowers as possible," she was in the habit of saying; "but we
+must limit our guests."
+
+It did not matter either who was fashionable and who was not, the
+duchess would have nothing but beauty and grace at her balls. You were
+sure at Hexham House to meet the most beautiful women in London and the
+most eligible men. It was consequently agreed on all sides that her
+grace gave the best balls during the season. This one at which Lady
+Amelie was to be present, promised unusual splendor.
+
+An archduke of one of the European courts was just then the guest of the
+queen, and he had promised to honor Hexham House with his presence.
+
+"He shall see such lovely women," said the duchess to her husband, "that
+he shall go back to his own country in despair."
+
+To Lady Amelie she had said, laughingly: "Look your very loveliest. I
+want you to make a conquest of the archduke."
+
+And that queen of coquettes thought to herself that her hands on that
+eventful evening would indeed be full. Not one word did the diplomatic
+old colonel say to Basil, but that young man was not quite himself. He
+had been wonderfully attracted by Lady Lisle's face; he read poetry,
+love of romance and everything else beautiful and piquant in it. Of all
+the women he had seen she was the only one who had interested him. He
+wondered whether the mind matched the peerless face. She must be clever,
+witty, brilliant, he thought, or she would not have kept all those men
+enchained as she did. He was very anxious to see her again.
+
+"If she is like everyone else," he said, "I shall soon be disenchanted,
+but if she speaks as she looks, she will indeed be peerless among
+women."
+
+He longed for the evening. He said nothing of her, but he talked so
+incessantly of the Duchess of Hexham, that the colonel understood
+exactly where his thoughts were, and smiled again most knowingly to
+himself.
+
+He looked at his young kinsman in his faultless evening dress, and said
+to himself that there was not in all England a more noble or handsome
+man.
+
+Lady Amelie called all the skill of the milliner to her aid; her dress
+was superb and effective--gold flowers on a white ground--a dress that
+irresistibly reminded one of sunbeams; it fell around her in statuesque
+folds that would have driven a sculptor to despair. Her beautiful neck
+and white arms were bare. She wore a diamond necklace of almost
+priceless value; her dark, shining hair was crowned with a circlet of
+the same royal stones; a diamond bracelet clasped one rounded arm. As
+she moved the light shone on her dress and gleamed on her jewels, until
+one was dazed with her splendor.
+
+Lady Amelie was very particular about her flowers. On this evening, with
+her costly dress and magnificent jewels, she would have nothing but
+white daphnes. Did she know that the sweet, subtle fragrance of a daphne
+reaches the senses long before the odor of other flowers touches them?
+As she surveyed herself in the mirror, she felt devoutly satisfied.
+
+"I shall be able to convert Basil Carruthers, Esq., to anything I like,"
+she said; "if he has resisted all the world, he will yield to me."
+
+So she drove off, resplendent, happy, animated, ready for the weaving of
+her spells.
+
+Any good Christian, seeing her pass by with that triumphant smile on her
+lovely face, might have prayed their nearest and dearest should be kept
+from harm.
+
+Lady Amelie never arrived very early at a ball. She liked to make her
+entree when most of the other guests were assembled. It was sweet to her
+to see how sorry and shy the ladies looked at her arrival, and how the
+faces of the men brightened. The first thing, of course, when she
+arrived at Hexham House, was the archduke. It was wonderful to watch the
+various phases of character that she could assume at will. With the
+archduke, she was the brilliant woman of the world, witty, sarcastic,
+adorable. He was enchanted with her; he declared that she combined all
+the charms of English and French women; he danced with her and would
+fain have lingered by her side, but that etiquette called him away.
+
+Then Lady Amelie, already the belle of the ball, looked up, for Colonel
+Mostyn was standing before her, and by his side one of the handsomest
+and noblest young men she had ever seen. He introduced Basil Carruthers
+to his fate.
+
+She looked in his face with a smile, and drawing aside a fold of her
+sumptuous dress, made room for him to sit near her.
+
+He thought her even more dazzlingly beautiful than when he had seen her
+at the opera. The perfume of the white daphnes must have touched his
+senses as those most lovely eyes smiled into his; his brain seemed to
+reel; he was intoxicated with her beauty as some men are with the fumes
+of rare wine.
+
+Colonel Mostyn lingered for a few minutes, then, well satisfied, went
+away, leaving Basil and Lady Amelie together. She had taken her seat
+under the shade of a magnificent mass of gorgeous, blooming flowers,
+with wondrous leaves and rich perfume. As she sat with her gleaming
+dress and jewels showing to perfection, from against this beautiful
+background, Basil was completely charmed. In all his life he had never
+even seen such a picture. She turned to him, when they were alone, with
+the sweetest smile on her lovely lips; her eyes seemed to rain down
+light into his.
+
+"This is a brilliant scene, Mr. Carruthers; the duchess excels in the
+arrangement of her rooms."
+
+He made some reply; he never quite knew what it was. It was enough for
+him to watch the charm of that irresistible face as she spoke. "Of
+course, everything depends on taste," she continued; "I quite expect you
+to laugh at me, but do you know what scene I should find much more
+brilliant than this?"
+
+"I cannot imagine," he replied; "but I shall not laugh."
+
+"Ah, well. I am peculiar in my tastes. In place of this brilliant
+ballroom, I should like to be seated at a tournament. I should like to
+see the knights with their banners and waving plumes, in the lists--the
+ladies in their balconies all hung with cloth of gold--the queen of
+beauty with the prize. Ah, me! in those days, ladies had knights and men
+were heroes."
+
+As he looked at her, his whole soul shone in his eyes.
+
+"And I, too," he cried. "I love those days ten thousand times better
+than these."
+
+"Do you?" asked her ladyship with admiring eyes, "how strange! It is not
+long since I was speaking to one whom I may call a young man of the
+period, and his reply was, 'Horrid bore, those kind of things were, Lady
+Lisle,' and I thought most young men were of his opinion."
+
+"I am not," said Basil, "I love those knights and heroes of old! great
+men and grand men who were content to ride forth, and to battle unto
+death for a woman's smile."
+
+She raised her radiant eyes to his.
+
+"Would you do that much for a woman's smile, Mr. Carruthers?"
+
+He paused a moment before speaking, then said: "For one such woman as
+those men loved, I would." She sighed deeply; the jewels on her white
+breast gleamed and glistened.
+
+"Ah, you think, then, that the glorious race of women heroes loved and
+died for, have disappeared?"
+
+"I thought so, until I saw you," he replied.
+
+"You are wrong," she said. "You will live to tell me that you are wrong.
+There may be no Helen such as she who lived at Troy, and no Cleopatra
+such as Egypt's dusky queen, but there are grand women living yet,
+worthy of heroes' love."
+
+"I am sure of it," he said, "now that I have seen you."
+
+But she made no reply; she did not even appear to have heard his words.
+
+"I can understand you," she said, gently. "Women have sometimes the rare
+gift of entering into the minds of reserved men. I understand you as
+though I had known you for years."
+
+His face cleared, his heart beat, his eyes brightened for her as they
+had never done for any other woman.
+
+"I can remember," she said, "when I had many similar opinions. I used to
+think these, our present days of steam and progress, quite unfit for
+heroes; I used to long for olden times again, when, by one great deed, a
+man made a great name."
+
+His eyes shone with new fire as he looked at her; it seemed to him that
+he had found his other soul at last. His mother laughed at him; Marion
+Hautville was sarcastic to him, but this beautiful woman--this
+magnificent queen at whose feet men bowed--she not only sympathized with
+him, but she had the self-same ideas.
+
+"The great thing that I complain of," said Lady Amelie, "is that there
+really seems in these days nothing to do. You, for instance, supposing
+that you were ambitious, how would you distinguish yourself?"
+
+And as she asked the question, my lady gave a sidelong look at her
+victim and was charmed to see the progress she had made.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+Deeper and Deeper Still.
+
+
+It was not possible that the queen of the ball should be allowed to sit
+apart from the dancers long. Many curious glances were bent on the pair
+who sat before the grand tier of fragrant blossoms.
+
+"Who is that with Lady Amelie?" asked one of another.
+
+"Mr. Carruthers of Ulverston," was the, reply; and great was the
+indignation felt by young ladies and their mammas.
+
+Poor Lady Masham had five marriageable daughters, and none had as yet
+received even the faintest shadow of an offer. In her own mind she had
+thought of Mr. Carruthers as especially eligible for one of them, and
+had resolved, when he did go more into society, upon a decided mode of
+attack. Her dismay, when she saw the state of things, can be better
+imagined than described.
+
+"My dear," she said to her friend and confidant, Mrs. Scrops, "look,
+only look! Lady Amelie has victimized Mr. Carruthers."
+
+"She cannot do him any harm," replied Mrs. Scrops; "she is married, I am
+thankful to say."
+
+"There will be no good done with him this season," said poor Lady
+Masham. "I would rather he had fallen in love than that she took
+possession of him."
+
+But Basil was not allowed to remain very long tete-a-tete with his
+charming queen. The Duchess of Hexham, alarmed lest her most brilliant
+star should be eclipsed, came to the rescue. Lady Amelie was soon
+surrounded, and then was carried off by the archduke.
+
+Not, however, before she had managed to turn round to Basil and say to
+him, sotto voce, "You must call and see me. We shall be friends, I can
+foretell." And he was more charmed than ever by those words. Friends
+with that enchanting woman, that proud, peerless queen, that radiant
+beauty! Be friends with her! It was more than he had dared to venture to
+hope. That he might worship her in the distance seemed to him honor
+enough.
+
+He had dreamed of such women, but he had not thought they existed; they
+belonged to the heroic ages, past now and dead. Here, in the midst of
+the days he considered so degenerate, he had found the very ideal of his
+heart.
+
+The brilliant scene before him seemed to fade away. Ah! if there was but
+some faint chance of distinguishing himself for her sake!--if she were
+but a princess in distress!--a lady for whom he could enter the lists
+and fight until he won! What was there in this prosaic century that he
+could do for her?--literally nothing but give her flowers.
+
+"Basil! Basil! my dear boy," said a voice near him. "Pray excuse me, but
+what are you doing here? Dreaming in a ballroom? This will not do."
+
+And Basil, aroused from his dream, looked up to see the face of Colonel
+Mostyn, wearing an expression of perfect horror.
+
+"Do rouse up, Basil! Do, for heaven's sake, try to be like every one
+else! Lady Masham wishes to know you; come with me."
+
+Basil followed, like a victim. Lady Masham received him cordially,
+mentioned casually that she had been to school with his mother,
+therefore felt called upon to take a special interest in himself, and
+then, very kindly, introduced him to her youngest daughter, Miss Nellie,
+whom she pathetically called the flower of her flock. Miss Nellie was a
+pretty girl, as were all the Misses Masham, or they would not have
+figured at her grace's ball. She wore the regulation chignon, golden
+brown in her case, her eyes were blue, her lips rosy and sweet, her face
+fair as the lilies and roses of summer. They had all been brought up
+after the same pattern; they all knew exactly what to say in every case
+and how to say it. As a matter of course, and not, it is to be feared,
+because he felt the least inclination, Basil asked the young lady to
+dance, and Miss Nellie, with the prettiest pink flush on her cheek,
+consented.
+
+She talked about the rooms, the opera, the archduke, until Basil almost
+groaned aloud. There was his beautiful queen, with her face full of
+poetry and her eyes of love. Yet if he could but have had both hearts,
+he would have seen that pretty, simple Nellie Masham, who talked
+innocent little commonplaces to him, was worth a thousand of such women
+as Lady Amelie Lisle. But it is not given to men to see clearly;
+anything but that. When Basil Carruthers had finished that dance he
+longed to escape, lest he should be compelled to go through another.
+Then came another moment of rapture for him, when, from the midst of a
+crowd of courtiers, Lady Amelie summoned him to take her to her
+carriage. Already they seemed like old friends. Basil drew the lace
+shawl around the white shoulders and held her flowers.
+
+"You have told me I may call," he said; "will you tell me when?"
+
+"I am visible any time after two," said Lady Amelie. Not for any amount
+of love or homage would she forego her comforts. Then it seemed to him
+that the world stopped until two the next day. He went back to the
+ballroom, but its beauty had all departed--there was no soul in the
+music, no fragrance in the flowers.
+
+"Colonel," he said, "I have had quite enough of the ball. Are you ready
+for home?"
+
+The colonel, who was quite satisfied with the result of the night's
+work, declared that he also was ready, and they went.
+
+"A very pleasant ball," remarked the diplomatist, as they drove home.
+
+"Was it?" said Basil dreamily. "I did not notice much--the only part of
+it I enjoyed was the conversation I had with Lady Lisle. Ah, colonel, if
+the ladies of the present day resembled her, there would be some hope
+for chivalry."
+
+"God forbid," thought the colonel to himself. Aloud he replied: "Yes,
+she is a very beautiful and most accomplished woman."
+
+"She is more than that; she has a touch of genius and fire and poetry. I
+have met no one like her."
+
+"I can only hope," thought Colonel Mostyn, "he will not take the disease
+too severely. I want a difference, but I do not care to have a case of
+raving love and madness on my hands."
+
+At breakfast time the next morning, Colonel Mostyn was pleased to see
+that, for the first time, Basil eagerly opened the papers and spoke
+anxiously of the evening engagements.
+
+"Better rest at home, tonight," said the colonel; "you were out last
+evening, and going out much tires you, I know. What do you say to a
+quiet game at chess?"
+
+"I cannot say positively. I shall not know what my evening engagements
+are until dinner-time."
+
+And then the colonel felt quite relieved. "He is going to call on Lady
+Amelie," he thought, "and wherever she goes this evening he will follow.
+I shall soon see him like other young men."
+
+As for Basil himself, he simply lived in one longing for two o'clock. My
+lady was perfectly ready to receive him. She had arranged a little scene
+and smiled to herself as she thought how sure it was to succeed.
+
+"He saw me all magnificence last evening; now I will play a different
+role."
+
+She wore a plain dress of some white flowing material, with a knot of
+scarlet ribbons on her fair neck; her shining hair was drawn from her
+white brow and fell in luxuriant waves; in it she wore one rose half
+shrouded in green leaves, and never in all her gorgeous magnificence had
+Lady Amelie looked one-half as fair. She was seated in her own boudoir,
+where the white daphnes shone like stars in the rosy light. A picture
+that would have ravished the heart of any man that gazed upon it, and
+Lady Amelie knew that it was perfect, even down to the graceful attitude
+and half sad, half languid expression of her face.
+
+It was not much after two when he came. Her reception of him was
+perfect--unstudied, graceful, natural; and he looking at her, thought
+her more beautiful than ever.
+
+"You were reading," he said; "have I disturbed you?"
+
+"No; Owen Meredith is a favorite poet of mine; there is something very
+unworldly and beautiful about his verses."
+
+"That is why you like them--you are so unworldly yourself."
+
+"Perhaps so, in one sense. I have just sufficient tinge of it about me
+to teach me that whatever are my thoughts and opinions, if they differ
+much from other people's, I must keep them to myself, unless, as is the
+case now, I meet a congenial soul."
+
+A view of the subject which was quite new to Basil.
+
+"I thought originality was a sign of genius," he replied, "and that
+people admired it."
+
+She smiled with an air of superiority that left him miles behind.
+
+"My observation teaches me that there is nothing worldly people
+disapprove of so highly as originality," she said. "To be more clever
+than your neighbor is a crime they never pardon."
+
+Basil, drinking in the beauty of that marvelous face, and the light of
+those lovely eyes, learned more worldly wisdom in one hour from the
+lovely lips of Lady Amelie than he had ever learned before.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+How the Plot Succeeded.
+
+
+Colonel Mostyn had no longer any reason to complain of his young
+kinsman; it was a month since he had been introduced to Lady Amelie, and
+he had lived in one long dream. He no longer found the time wearisome,
+or longed for something to do. He was in the power of a beautiful and
+heartless coquette, who took care that he should not lightly wear her
+chains.
+
+He no longer showed any indifference to his evening engagements; to be
+with her was the one wish of his life; where she went, he went--to ball,
+opera, soiree, concert, fete, to dinners at Richmond, to water-parties;
+whoever saw the beautiful Lady Amelie, saw her last victim with her.
+
+Colonel Mostyn began to think that really matters had been carried quite
+far enough; all the good he had anticipated was done; he did not wish
+evil to follow, and he was beginning to scheme for his young kinsman's
+rescue, when he was suddenly summoned to join his regiment, just ordered
+abroad, and Basil was left to his fate.
+
+He gave him some parting words of advice, but they fell on deaf ears.
+Even had Basil quite understood them, he would have asked how was it
+possible for a matter-of-fact, prosaic soldier like Colonel Mostyn, a
+man of the world, to understand such transcendental beings as Lady
+Amelie and himself.
+
+During the whole of this time, believe me, he had no thought of harm or
+wrong; he never dreamed of being in love with Lady Amelie. What was she
+to him? His queen, his lode-star, his inspiration to all that was great
+and glorious, the Lama to his Petrarch; but of anything less exalted, he
+had no notion. Basil Carruthers, with all his eccentricity, would have
+shuddered at the bare notion of dishonorable love or sin. He was an
+enthusiast, a dreamer, a poet in heart and soul, but he was not the man
+to betray a woman; he scorned the notion of such a sin; it was utterly
+beneath his lofty nature. How skilfully she managed him! How artfully
+she contrived to lead him on, to engage his whole thought, time and
+attention, yet never to lose her influence for one moment!
+
+Take a scene from her life and his. A bright, beautiful summer day,
+when, with a large party of friends, they had gone down to Richmond.
+When dinner was over, and the sweet, soft gloaming lay over the earth,
+Lady Amelie left the room, where the guests were lingering over the wine
+and grapes, and went out into the balcony that overlooked the green park
+and the smooth, clear water.
+
+Seeing that, and feeling tired of the conversation, Basil followed her.
+She was leaning over the stone balustrade, and the green foliage
+wreathed round the balcony formed a beautiful frame-work for a lovely
+picture. He went up to her, and stood in silence by her side.
+
+"How different these two worlds are!" she said. "The world in there, all
+heat, noise and frivolity; the world out here, so calm, so grand and
+still. Look at the shadow of the trees in the water! Look at the
+floating clouds of rose-colored light in the sky!"
+
+But he thought nothing in that outside world so beautiful as she
+herself.
+
+"Are you found of German stories?" he asked her, suddenly.
+
+"Yes, some of them. I like the mystery and the spirituality, the poetry
+and the romance."
+
+"I read a book of Fouque's last night that charmed me--Minstrel Love. Do
+you know it, Lady Amelie?"
+
+"No," she replied; "tell me what it is."
+
+"Only the history of a poet-knight who loved the lofty Lady Alcarda. She
+lived with her husband, a German warrior, in an old castle, and the poet
+was her knight.
+
+"Do you know, Lady Amelie," he whispered, "that book made me ambitious?"
+
+"Of what?" she asked.
+
+"Dare I tell you? The Lady Alcarda was beautiful, gifted, pure of heart
+and soul, lofty and spiritual--like you," he added, passionately, "and
+she accepted the poet's service--she made him her knight."
+
+"There are no knights in these days," she said, half sadly.
+
+"Ah! let me prove to you that you are wrong. You are like Lady Alcarda.
+Let me be your knight. I would be content to serve you in all chivalry,
+and in all honor, until death, if you would reward me with a kind word
+and a smile."
+
+His handsome young face looked so eager, so wistful, that the coquette's
+heart smote her for one half moment. Knowing what was before him, was it
+not too cruel to lead him on? But the short-lived feeling of compunction
+soon died. She bent her head and the perfume of the flowers she carried
+reached him.
+
+"Would you be my knight?" she said; "would you go through danger and
+peril to serve me?"
+
+"I would die for you," he replied, simply; "quite content, if you smiled
+on me as I died."
+
+"Do you mean it, without any romance or nonsense? Seriously, would you,
+to serve me?"
+
+"Yes: and count all loss as gain."
+
+"Then you shall be my knight, my friend. I am not a queen. I have no
+sword to lay on your shoulder, but I place my hand in yours, and I
+accept your loyal service."
+
+She laid her white hand in his, and the touch of those slender fingers
+thrilled him as nothing had ever done before.
+
+"I am your sovereign liege," she said, with a smile. "If I come to you
+in distress you are sworn, remember, to help me. If I require your
+service, it is mine."
+
+"Yes," he said; "at all times and at all hours."
+
+"I shall go through life the more happily for knowing that I have so
+true and chivalrous a defender," she replied.
+
+And they sat in the flower-wreathed balcony, watching the sun set over
+the river, and the simple, dreaming boy believed himself in Paradise.
+
+It seemed to him that the spell was broken when the other guests came
+out and joined them. As he could no longer talk to Lady Amelie, he was
+content to stand by himself and think over his own happiness. To him it
+was like a beautiful page from some old romance, that this lovely lady
+should have smiled upon him, and have laid her gracious hand upon him,
+calling him her knight. How insufferable the empty talk of the men
+around him seemed! Ah, if they knew how he was sworn to do the lady's
+service!
+
+It was more than an hour afterward when Lady Lisle was free again; then
+he enjoyed the felicity of helping her with her shawls, and of sitting
+by her side while they drove home in the moonlight.
+
+Lady Amelie was the very queen of coquettes. In the course of all her
+long experience, she had never, through all her flirtations, said one
+word too much. But no other woman living could imply so much by a
+gesture, a look or an exclamation. One morning Basil had called early,
+in the hope of escorting her to an exhibition of paintings. He found her
+alone, and while he was talking to her, a gentleman entered the room--a
+tall, portly, sensual-looking man, whom Basil disliked at first sight.
+Lady Amelie introduced him to her husband, Lord Lisle, who was very
+cordial in his greeting.
+
+"Lady Lisle has often spoken of you," he said; "but this is, strange to
+say, the first time I have ever had the pleasure of seeing you. I met
+your mother, Lady Carruthers, a year ago, and have a most pleasant
+recollection of her."
+
+Lord Lisle sat down, and Lady Amelie gave a pretty little sigh,
+expressive of her resignation to something unpleasant.
+
+And truly a conversation with Lord Lisle was about as unpleasant a
+matter as one could well experience. His language was coarse; his ideas
+coarser still. There was very little to redeem it. He mistook slang for
+wit, told stories that made his wife shudder, and misbehaved himself as
+only such a man can do.
+
+Basil looked at him in dismay. Could it be possible that this man was
+the husband of that queen of beauty? What a life for her! No wonder she
+looked sad as she sat listening to him! The young man's heart ached for
+her.
+
+"Are you engaged this evening?" asked Lord Lisle; "if not, dine with us.
+I expect Sir Harry Vere, and he is the most amusing character I know."
+
+He would have refused, but that he met the imploring glance of Lady
+Amelie's eyes.
+
+"I will come with pleasure," he replied; and her eyes thanked him.
+
+Then Lord Lisle, thinking he had been most amiable and charming, rose
+from his chair and quitted the room. In some vague, indistinct way the
+atmosphere seemed clearer after he had gone.
+
+Lady Amelie made no comment; a woman less gifted than herself might have
+done so; she merely raised her hands and eyes and gave one deep sigh.
+Will you believe me that that sigh meant more than any other woman could
+have put into words? It meant "Pity me! see how I am wasted on this boor
+of a man! think how uncongenial he is, how wretched I am."
+
+No one could sigh so effectively as Lady Amelie Lisle; thus it was with
+difficulty she refrained from smiling. Basil looked so wretchedly
+anxious and uncomfortable, she saw that he was longing to say something,
+but dare not.
+
+"I shall not be five minutes," she said, with a graceful little smile;
+"and then we can spend a long hour with the pictures."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+Caught in the Snare.
+
+
+The first part of that hour was charming. Basil never forgot it; the
+rooms were not crowded, the pictures beautiful, and Lady Amelie in one
+of her most graceful moods. They both stood before a little gem by one
+of our first English artists, called "The Coquette's Decision," a very
+pretty picture that told its own story. A young girl, standing, half
+hesitating between two gentlemen. They looked anxious, she smiling and
+triumphant. She inclined ever so little to the fair-haired youth on the
+right, her eyes and lips smiling on him, but her hand was extended to
+his dark-haired rival on the left.
+
+"I do not like that kind of picture," said Basil, "it lowers one's ideal
+of woman. I do not think there is one-half so much coquetry in the world
+as people would make you believe."
+
+"Perhaps you never knew a coquette," she said; and the look she gave him
+from underneath those long lashes was quite irresistible.
+
+"No," he replied; "indeed, a coquette could never charm me. My ideal of
+woman is some one as lofty, grand, beautiful and gifted as you."
+
+"Yet there are coquettes," she said, gravely.
+
+"I do not doubt it. I only say there would be no charm for me in the
+fairest of them all."
+
+Just then two gentlemen entered at the other end of the room, and the
+slight noise made by their entrance caused Lady Amelie to look up.
+Basil, who was watching her every movement, as he always did,
+attentively, saw her turn very pale and a sudden cloud of fear dimmed
+the radiance of her eyes.
+
+"Lady Amelie, you are ill!" he cried; "or tired."
+
+"I am tired," she said, and they sat down on one of the seats, placed
+in the middle of the room. It struck him that she was anxiously trying
+to conceal herself from observation, yet the idea seemed absurd.
+
+In the meantime, the two gentlemen advanced slowly up the room. They,
+too, paused before "The Coquette's Decision," and laughed. Then one,
+leaving his companion, came hastily to the seat where Lady Amelie was
+sitting. He held out his hand as though surprised and delighted.
+
+"Lady Amelie!" he said. "I felt sure that I was not mistaken--that it
+must be you."
+
+There was no answering delight on her face; nothing but constraint,
+embarrassment and confusion.
+
+"How do you do, Count Jules?" she said, coldly. "This is an unexpected
+surprise. I thought you had left London for some years."
+
+"L'homme propose, Dieu dispose," said the count. "I only reached England
+last night, and have hurried to London."
+
+"It is strange that I should meet you here," she said.
+
+"My friend, Monsieur Le Blanc, has a picture here, and I have been
+criticising it for him."
+
+Then Lady Amelie seemed to remember the laws of politeness, for she
+introduced the two gentlemen, who looked very unpleasantly at each
+other.
+
+Basil did not like the count, although at first sight he was certainly a
+very handsome man, essentially French, with a quick, shrewd, handsome
+face and dark hair, eyes black as night, yet bright and eloquent. It was
+those very eyes that Basil disliked; they were not clear, true nor
+honest. In fact, a sudden hatred to the French count sprang up in his
+heart, he could not tell how or why. They exchanged a few words, and
+then, under pretense of drawing Lady Amelie's attention to a picture,
+Count Jules said to her:
+
+"Can you not dismiss your young cavalier? I have come to London on
+purpose to see you--I must speak to you."
+
+"I cannot dismiss him," she said, curtly. "He is not a footman to be
+sent away at my pleasure. Tell me in few words what you want."
+
+"I want money!" he said, with a very dark frown; "and money, Amelie, I
+must have."
+
+"I can give you none--you have no conscience. How much have you had
+already?"
+
+"I have kept no account." he replied; "and really what I have had is not
+of the least consequence--it is what I have to get."
+
+"That will be nothing from me," she replied. "I gave you a thousand
+pounds three months ago, and you promised you would ask for no more."
+
+"I did not foresee the present necessity," he said. "Amelie, I must have
+money."
+
+"Count Jules," said Lady Lisle, "you are a villain, who trades upon a
+woman's fears!"
+
+"My charming lady shall call me anything she will, but I must have the
+money."
+
+"I tell you," she replied, angrily, "that I have not got it, nor is it
+any use asking my lord for it; he was angry the last time, and I shall
+ask him no more."
+
+"Then get it from some other source."
+
+"There is no other source open to me," she replied.
+
+The count's face darkened angrily.
+
+"There need not be so many words about it, Lady Lisle. I must have the
+money."
+
+"By what right do you incessantly demand money from me?" she asked.
+
+"You promised, in those happier days, to be my friend always; and as a
+friend you have lent me money often. As a friend, I ask you for it
+again."
+
+"And as a friend," she retorted, "I refuse."
+
+"Then I shall be obliged to adopt the very unpleasant alternative of
+asking it from Lord Lisle."
+
+"Lord Lisle would refuse it."
+
+"He would give it to me as the means of purchasing my silence," he said.
+"You forget, Lady Amelie, what I have to show Lord Lisle, if he does
+refuse?"
+
+"You mean my letters?" she said, indignantly. "You are coward enough to
+threaten me with showing my husband the letters I was so mistaken as to
+write to you?"
+
+"I should be deeply grieved, indeed," he said, "but I have no other
+alternative."
+
+"And I mistook you for a gentleman," she said, with calm scorn.
+
+"You were very kind to me, Lady Amelie," he said, with a polite sneer.
+
+"I do not believe you have those letters," she said.
+
+"I have, indeed. I have locked them up with the only two family
+heirlooms I possess--a watch and a ring--in an ivory casket, and I go
+nowhere without it."
+
+"You must do your worst!" said Lady Amelie.
+
+"Nay," he said, "I do not wish to do that. My worst would be to bring
+the honored name of Lady Amelie Lisle into the divorce court, and that I
+should not like to do. Do not decide hastily. I cannot remain in England
+very long. Take a week to decide in and let me know when I am to have
+the money."
+
+She turned from him with the scornful gesture of an outraged queen.
+
+"We shall see," she muttered between her white teeth. "We shall see."
+
+She spoke no other word to him, but went back to her seat. Count Jules
+bowed and quitted the room.
+
+"You do not like that man, Lady Lisle?" said Basil, as he looked at her
+fair, flushed face. Before she had time to answer, they were joined by
+some ladies of his acquaintance, and were not able to exchange another
+word on the subject. As he was leaving, Lady Lisle looked out of the
+carriage.
+
+"Mr. Carruthers!" she said. He was by her side in a moment. She was pale
+and agitated, not quite herself.
+
+"You are my sworn knight," she said, laying her hand on his.
+
+"Until death!" he replied.
+
+"You promised to help me at any risk, in any difficulty, and now I am
+going to ask your aid."
+
+"It is yours. My whole life is yours," he cried. She smiled, sadly.
+
+"There are some things more valuable than life. Perhaps what I ask from
+you will cost you dear."
+
+"I do not care in the least what it costs," he said.
+
+"You are coming to dine with us; we do not dine this evening until
+eight. Come soon after six. I have a story to tell you."
+
+"I will not fail," he replied. "Do not be anxious, Lady Lisle, you look
+distressed. Trust in me; far as human aid can go, mine is yours."
+
+His clear blue eyes lingered on her perfect face, and again, for the
+second time in her life, the queen of coquettes felt something like pity
+for the man she was luring to his doom. She leaned back in the carriage
+after he was gone, with a most triumphant smile on her lips.
+
+"What wonders a pretty face can work," she thought. "I feel quite safe,
+now that my troubles are to rest on his broad shoulders. How I should
+like to see that Jules trampled upon and crushed. My knight will save
+me."
+
+She never remembered that he was the only son of his mother--a widow.
+She cared little that he was the head of a grand old race. She thought
+still less of his talents, his honest enthusiasm, his simplicity, except
+so far as it answered her purpose.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+Ladie Amelie's Story.
+
+
+A few hours later, and Lady Lisle was seated in her boudoir, exquisitely
+attired. She, who knew so well the effect of every fold in her dress, of
+every flower she wore or carried; she, who had studied the art of
+looking beautiful more completely than any other woman, had not
+neglected her most potent charm. She wore a dinner dress of white silk,
+with crimson flowers, that suited her dark, glowing beauty to
+perfection. An elegant toilet! No jewels, but a massive golden bracelet
+on one arm, and a golden chain of exquisite workmanship round her neck.
+
+"I knew you would come," she said, looking up with a smile as Basil was
+shown into her boudoir; "I knew you would not fail me. We shall have
+time for a long conversation. Lord Lisle never reaches home until a
+quarter of an hour before dinner, and then he has to hurry. Our guests
+will not arrive until nearly eight, so we shall not be interrupted."
+
+He looked round that little fairy nook, wondering at its elegance,
+wondering at the soft, rosy light, at the fragrance of the white
+daphnes, but more than all at the queenly loveliness of the beautiful
+woman before him.
+
+She sat in the very heart of the crimson glow, her glistening silken
+dress sweeping in rich waves, and quite sure that her attitude, like
+everything else about her, was perfect. She held out her hand to him,
+with a smile that would have bewildered any man older and wiser than he.
+
+"Sit down here," she said, pointing to a velvet fauteuil; "I am going to
+make you my judge. Ah, Basil, for this one night I may call you Basil;
+perhaps after you have heard what I have to say, you will never be my
+knight again; it may change you."
+
+"I shall belong to you, and ask no greater happiness than to serve you
+until I die," he replied,
+
+A fan lay on the table by her side, with jeweled handle, and made of
+white, soft feathers. She opened it and quietly stirred the warm,
+perfumed air.
+
+"I could only tell my trouble to you," she began, in her soft, caressing
+voice. "You will understand me, because you know what it is to have
+wishes, hopes and aspirations that are never realized. You know what it
+is to be unworldly and unlike others.
+
+"I was but a girl when I was married, Basil--an innocent, unsuspecting
+girl, just seventeen. I might plead, in excuse of what followed, that I
+was married without my own inclination being consulted--unwillingly
+sacrificed to money that never has done me any good, and never will. I
+might plead my youth, my unhappiness, the utter want of congeniality
+with the man I married; but I will not. You shall judge me without
+excuses. I must, however, tell you that at first, for the first two
+years of my married life, I was in despair. There seemed to me no hope,
+no respite--nothing but despair. Now I have grown accustomed to my
+misery, and can wear it with a smile; then it was otherwise. At that
+time I was first introduced to Count Jules Ste. Croix. I hate myself,"
+she continued, passionately, "when I remember how that man duped me. I
+did not think him handsome, although other ladies raved of his beaux
+yeux and his classical face.
+
+"But I liked him, Basil, because he had the art of expressing silent
+sympathy for me. He said nothing--if he had done so, my pride would have
+taken fire and I should have been saved--but all that other men say in
+passionate words, he conveyed to me in passionate looks. He was very
+kind to me; he used to visit us a great deal, and on several occasions
+he stood between me and Lord Lisle's fierce anger.
+
+"He knew all my distress, my troubles, my misery, as well as I know them
+myself. Let me tell you briefly, Basil, that at this unhappy time I
+wrote to him three letters--only three. I was so miserable, so wretched,
+that, unless I had opened my heart to some one, I must have died. Now
+listen, Basil, and do not wonder if I have ceased to believe in men. He
+answered them, and then, after a time, presumed upon my having written
+to him. Oh, Basil, if I could but spare myself the shame of telling you!
+He made a compact of friendship with me that nothing was ever to break.
+I was but a frightened child, and I made it. He asked me to lend him
+money. Oh, Basil, I was but a frightened, terrified girl, and I lent it!
+Then he tried to make love to me--he flattered me; he followed me like
+my shadow. But there I was firm; he could not frighten me into anything
+I thought wrong."
+
+"Why, the man is a villain!" cried Basil; "an unprincipled, cowardly
+villain!"
+
+"Wait," she said, laying her hand on his arm. "Wait; you have not heard
+all. He uses the three letters as a means of extorting money from me.
+Now he threatens that if I do not lend it to him, he will show them to
+my husband."
+
+Basil sprang from his seat, with a hot flush on his handsome young face.
+
+"I will shoot him!" he said. "Such a man is not fit to breathe the air
+of heaven."
+
+"Hush!" she said again. "You cannot help me unless you are calm. My
+husband does not love me, Basil. The least whisper of this, and,
+innocent as I am, I should be separated from him and disgraced. It is
+from this I want you to save me. If I were married to a noble, generous
+man, I should go to him at once, and tell him the truth. If Lord Lisle
+knew it, he would use it as a pretext for separating himself from me.
+Basil, you are my knight--you must save me; you must get those letters."
+
+"I will," he replied, "at any cost."
+
+"I tremble to think how much money, I, in my cowardly fear, have lent
+him. He will want more and more, until he has drained a fortune, and I
+shall be no safer in the end. I will lend him no more money, Basil; but
+you, my only friend, shall get the letters."
+
+"I will. How shall I do it! Oh, Lady Lisle, let me fight him--let me
+punish him as he deserves!"
+
+"No," she said; "he is too cunning. If you were to offer to fight with
+him, he would know it was for my sake, and he would so place the letters
+as to fall into my husband's hands if anything happened to him."
+
+But the hot flush did not fade from Basil's face.
+
+"I must thrash him," he cried.
+
+"No; for my sake, and because you would do me true service, you must
+not," she said.
+
+"I will give him all my fortune for the letters," he said.
+
+"That would not do--he would take your money first, then, holding the
+letters, would still want more. I will tell you the only plan by which
+you can help me. Go boldly into the room and bring the letters away."
+
+"But that looks so much like stealing them," he said. "Let me fight him
+and take them because I win."
+
+"No," she said, sadly. "If you will not help me, as I wish, I must
+forego all aid, and suffer on."
+
+"You have but to command," he cried, "and I will obey."
+
+"This is the count's address," she said. "Go into his rooms; you will
+find there an ivory casket; he keeps the letters there; he told me so."
+
+"I will do it," he said, quietly.
+
+A beautiful light came into her eyes.
+
+"I knew you would save me, Basil," she said, tenderly. "When will you do
+it?"
+
+"I will make my first essay tonight. I shall not rest again until it is
+done."
+
+"Go to his rooms," she said; "ask for him; if they tell you he is not
+in, say you will wait for him; then, while you are in the room, open the
+casket, take out the letters, destroy them at once, and send word to me
+when it is done. Do not stop to think whether I am right, whether it is
+the better plan, but do it at once, because I have said so."
+
+"I will do it," he replied. Then she saw a shadow fall over his face.
+"There is nothing really in them, I suppose, Lady Lisle?"
+
+"Nothing," she said, "but the cry of a woman's breaking heart! Enough to
+ruin me, should my husband ever come to know it."
+
+"That he never shall; they shall be destroyed. If I die for it, they
+shall be destroyed."
+
+"Ah, me," she said; "had ever liege lady so true a knight? Basil, how
+shall I thank you?"
+
+"The pleasure of serving you will be thanks enough," he replied.
+
+"Ah, generous knight, noble knight, who shall say true chivalry is
+dead?" And she praised him, she flattered him, she thanked him until the
+slight doubt that had occurred to him died away and he was ashamed of
+it.
+
+He thought of nothing but obeying her. It was sadly against his high
+English spirit to steal into a man's room and take from it; he would
+have preferred fighting until one or the other lay dead. But she had
+said nay, and it could not be. That very evening he called and was told
+the count was not in; the day following he repeated the call, and the
+servant, as he had said at the trial, was suspicious, not recognizing
+him as one of his master's friends.
+
+He called another evening, and, owing to the fact of there being a new
+servant, he was admitted into the count's room. It was empty, although
+the gas was burning. He saw the little ivory casket, and with one stroke
+of his strong, young hand, opened it.
+
+There lay the letters, underneath a watch and ring. He obeyed her; he
+did not lose one instant. He emptied the casket, carried the letters to
+the lighted gas, and burned them! Just as he had raised the watch and
+ring in his hand to replace them, the door opened and the count, with
+his servant, entered the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+The Trap Closed.
+
+
+The count did not utter one word. He saw at one glance what had been
+done. He recognized the young gentleman whom he had sneered at as Lady
+Amelie's victim. He understood at once what had been done.
+
+"She had asked him to destroy the letters, and he has done it," he said
+to himself. In one moment he had formed his scheme of revenge. He would
+give the young man in charge for stealing his watch and ring. If he
+cleared himself at all, he must tell the truth. He must tell that he had
+not come there to steal a watch, but to destroy Lady Lisle's letters.
+
+"If he confesses that," said the quick-witted count to himself, "she
+will be doubly disgraced; if he declines to confess, I am at least
+revenged upon him." So, until the entrance of the policeman, the two men
+stood and glared at each other.
+
+"You can save yourself," said the count, "if you will confess what you
+came for, and if you will write that confession down."
+
+Basil smiled contemptuously. "Of what do you charge me?" he said.
+
+"I shall charge you with stealing my watch and ring," was the reply.
+
+"Knowing I am innocent?"
+
+"The alternative lies before you. Confess, as I have said, and Lady
+Amelie suffers; deny, and you go to prison for stealing."
+
+It seemed to him far easier. "I will go to prison," he thought, "I can
+give a false name; no one will know me. There will be no fuss, no stir,
+nothing known, and she, my queen, will be saved."
+
+Of course there was no common sense in such a proceeding, nothing but
+enthusiasm and romance. He certainly had not calculated upon the fact
+being known. He had really believed the false name would shield him. He
+found means through a heavy bribe to send one word to Lady Amelie; it
+was merely the word, "Destroyed.--B.C." But it gave the queen of
+coquettes a sense of security she had not enjoyed for long. While Basil
+still lay in prison, Count Jules sought her.
+
+"You have baffled me, my lady," he said.
+
+"Yes," was the calm reply, "I have checkmated you, count. You will
+extort no more money from me, nor will you threaten me again."
+
+"Well," said the count, "I confess myself beaten, and I am not a good
+man, either, my Lady Amelie, but sooner than have blighted that young
+man's life, as you have done, I would have suffered anything."
+
+"My dear count," said Lady Amelie, philosophically, "some men seem, by
+fate and by nature, destined to be used as a cat's-paw."
+
+Count Jules was baffled; his only hold upon the rich and beautiful Lady
+Amelie was broken. What those letters contained was known only to the
+lady and himself. If simply the written expressions of her own
+unhappiness, he placed more value on them than they were worth. The
+chances are that they held more than that.
+
+He was entirely defeated--they had been his last resources for long. He
+had never failed, by means of them, to extort money from Lady Lisle at
+pleasure. It was useless to threaten any more. She had but to dare him
+to bring forth his proofs, and he had not one word to say.
+
+His only consolation was, that in revenge, he had completely blighted
+the young hero's life, for hero he was, although his heroism was of a
+mistaken kind.
+
+And Lady Amelie--did she feel any regret for the young life tarnished?
+She missed a very pleasant companion, an enthusiastic adorer, but as
+fortune would have it, there came to England a young Roman prince, who
+was both artist and poet, handsome as a Greek god, and wealthy beyond
+compare. His appearance created a perfect furore in fashionable society,
+and he, as a matter of course, fell in love with Lady Amelie, so that
+she soon forgot the young knight who languished in prison. When the
+season was over, she persuaded her husband to go to Rome, and never left
+even a line or a message for the mistaken young man who had done so much
+for her.
+
+She only did what suited her; she was the queen of coquettes, and she
+made him useful to her; nothing else mattered.
+
+The lonely months wore on very slowly for Basil. At first the notion of
+heroism and the conviction that he was performing a most noble and
+chivalrous deed sustained him; but there was a fund of common sense in
+his character, and this common sense suggested to him that instead of
+being a hero, he had been the dupe of a wily coquette. Not at first did
+this idea strike him; not until long, dreary weeks had passed, and she
+had never sent him even one message of thanks or sympathy. He was very
+angry with the idea at first, thinking it quite a false one, but
+gradually he awakened to the conviction that it was true.
+
+Then his fortitude forsook him, and it was some consolation to hear from
+Mr. Forster that what the kind-hearted lawyer called his
+misrepresentations had been effectual. People had almost forgotten that
+little paragraph that had one morning taken London by storm.
+
+"I have denied it so constantly and emphatically," he said, "that my
+words have been believed. As soon as you get out of here, make haste
+abroad, then all may be well."
+
+Even he could not help seeing how entirely the light and brightness had
+faded from the young face.
+
+"I have never said anything to you," said Mr. Forster, one morning, "but
+I have a certain conviction, Mr, Carruthers, that there is some woman in
+this; you are here for a woman's sake and to screen her from blame; if
+so, it is useless asking you to tell the truth, I know, but make the
+best of it; get out of this as soon as you can."
+
+He did so. When the six months were over, "John Smith" was discharged
+and did not linger many hours in London; he went at once to Paris, and
+there made out where Lady Amelie was.
+
+"In Rome," replied the gentleman of whom he asked the question. "Her
+last caprice was a young Roman prince, and they are settled there for
+the winter." To Rome he resolved to go. He would see for himself whether
+she was all that his dreaming fancy had painted her, or whether she was
+what men said--a heartless coquette.
+
+He went to Rome, and found her, as usual, queen of all that was most
+brilliant and gay.
+
+It was at a soiree given by the Duchessa Sforza. He saw her again,
+beautiful, radiant and magnificent. By her side stood a young man, who
+was handsome as one of the grand old statutes that ornamented the
+galleries of Rome. He watched her, thinking bitterly of the time that
+had passed since be looked his last on that radiant face, and all the
+bitter shame that had been his portion since then.
+
+He crossed the room and went over to her. Whatever dismay she may have
+felt, she showed none. She looked up with a bright, cold smile, as
+though they had parted but yesterday.
+
+"Mr. Carruthers!" she said. "I hope you are well. I really believe that
+half of England is coming to Rome."
+
+"Can you wonder," said the prince, "when England's fairest queen is
+here?"
+
+Lady Amelie introduced the two gentlemen, and after a time the prince
+went away. Then she turned her lovely face to the young man she had
+duped so cleverly.
+
+"How do you like Rome?" she asked,
+
+"I cannot talk commonplace to you, Lady Lisle," he said; "I have come
+from England purposely to see you,"
+
+She looked slightly impatient.
+
+"Ah," she replied. "Of course I am very much obliged to you; but you
+must have been terribly imprudent. Could you not have managed without
+being discovered in that suspicious attitude? I was so grievously
+distressed. You are too quixotic--you seek needless dangers."
+
+That was the extent of her gratitude to the man who had saved her
+reputation, character, and fair fame.
+
+"I did not compromise you," he said. "I preferred imprisonment to that."
+
+"Yes; but it was quixotic; there was no need for anything of the kind."
+
+"I am very sorry to have erred from excess of zeal," he replied,
+sarcastically. "It is a comfort to me to think that I shall not so
+offend again."
+
+"I hope," she said, more anxiously, "that it will not injure you--that
+no one will know about it. It was really too shocking. Prison for a
+young man of your position! It was absurd."
+
+"I thought so myself, before I came out; it was absurd; but you will be
+comforted to know, Lady Amelie, that no one seems to have known of it
+but my mother, Lady Carruthers, and my lawyer, Mr. Forster. So far as
+the world is concerned, I am safe."
+
+The prince returned, looking slightly jealous, and then Basil amused
+himself, after a bitter fashion. He watched Lady Amelie playing off all
+her airs, graces, and fascinations on the young prince, as she had
+played them upon him. He was cured. It was a bitter lesson, but it
+lasted him. He began to understand the difference between romance and
+reality--between dreaming and doing. It had been a hard, bitter, almost
+shameful, lesson, but he was thankful in after years that he had learned
+it.
+
+He found, after a time, that the world was wiser than he thought.
+
+"There is some story about Mr. Carruthers," people would say, but no one
+ever knew exactly what it was. He remained in Rome for a whole week.
+Before it was over he was quite cured of his liking for the queen of
+coquettes.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+The Denouement.
+
+
+Then Basil Carruthers set himself busily to work to discover how he
+might best undo the effects of his folly. The duties he had thought so
+lightly of rose before him now.
+
+"I will go down to Ulverston," he said to himself, "and with God's help
+I will be a wiser and a better man."
+
+He saw what his mistaken notions of chivalry had done for him--how
+completely they had misled him--how near they had brought him to ruin
+and disgrace. The meeting between mother and son was not the most
+pleasant in the world. Lady Carruthers, stately, sensitive, and proud,
+could not forgive the dark disgrace under which her son had lain. He saw
+how deeply she felt it.
+
+"Mother," he said, "you must judge me leniently. I own myself mistaken.
+I think, sometimes, I must have been mad, I cannot tell you precisely
+what took me to prison. Will you believe me that it was for a woman's
+sake?"
+
+"I knew it!" she interrupted.
+
+"It was to screen a woman's folly," he continued. "And, indeed, wrong as
+I was, I believed myself to be doing a most chivalrous deed."
+
+"It is a great pity, Basil," said Lady Carruthers.
+
+"Yes," he said, quietly; "but I was a woman's dupe, and I have suffered
+enough. It was one false step, but I shall spend my life in trying to
+redeem it."
+
+He kept his word. In four years' time the name of Basil Carruthers rang
+through the land with a pleasant sound; he had, indeed, found something
+to do.
+
+He was returned for the borough of Rutsford, and his fame as an able and
+eloquent orator spread over the country.
+
+Then he studied to become a model landlord; he built large, airy
+cottages and schools; he paid the attention that every landlord ought to
+pay that the land be well drained, well cultivated. He was a friend to
+all his tenants, a benefactor to his dependants. In the course of time
+people forgot to whisper there had been some story about Mr. Carruthers;
+they only mentioned him in terms of praise. The very quality that his
+mother once thought would be against him now proved to be in his favor.
+If he was more romantic, more enthusiastic than other young men, he
+employed the superabundance of his gifts to excellent purpose.
+
+After some years there was a grand wedding at Ulverston. Basil
+Carruthers won Marion Hautville for his wife. Before they were married
+he took her one afternoon for a long ramble in the green summer woods
+and told her this story. Marion was shocked at first; it seemed to her
+impossible that a man could be so foolish as to mistake a deed like that
+for chivalry.
+
+"And what has become of your lovely Lady Amelie now?" she asked.
+
+"She is still the queen of coquettes," replied Basil; "but, Marion,
+although it was a terrible mistake, and I suffered so bitterly for it, I
+cannot be altogether sorry that it happened. I should have been a
+useless dreamer until the day of my death if this had not taken place.
+It was a rude, rough, but sure awakening."
+
+"I shall never call you my knight," said Marion. "Why, Basil, dear, a
+schoolboy would not have been taken in by such nonsense."
+
+"But, Marion, I was not so wise as a schoolboy," he replied.
+
+"She only used you for her own purposes. She simply made a cat's-paw of
+you, Basil."
+
+"I can see it now, darling, I did not then. But you will forgive me,
+Marion?"
+
+"Yes; because, after all, though you were so greatly mistaken, still the
+faults that led to your mistake were almost virtues."
+
+Lady Carruthers was rendered very happy by her son's marriage. When Mrs.
+Carruthers went to London, she proved to be Lady Amelie's greatest
+rival. She was quite as beautiful, as witty, as clever, but in place of
+coquetry, she was gifted with honest simplicity, that men pronounced
+charming, while Lady Amelie, to her great chagrin, began to find her
+attractions on the wane. Men grew tired of her vanity and her cruelty.
+Women disliked her for her selfish disregard of everything but her own
+triumph.
+
+Basil Carruthers bows his head in shame and contrition when he remembers
+this episode in his career. Then Marion, his wife, kisses him with a
+smile, and tells him he is not much the worse for having been once upon
+a time a coquette's victim.
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
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