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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/17051-8.txt b/17051-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9f30a0b --- /dev/null +++ b/17051-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4980 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Argosy, by Various + +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 Argosy + Vol. 51, No. 1, January, 1891 + +Author: Various + +Editor: Charles W. Wood + +Release Date: November 11, 2005 [EBook #17051] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ARGOSY *** + + + + +Produced by Paul Murray, Taavi Kalju, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + _"Laden with Golden Grain"_ + + * * * * * + + THE + ARGOSY. + + + EDITED BY + CHARLES W. WOOD. + + * * * * * + + + VOLUME LI. + + _January to June, 1891._ + + * * * * * + + + RICHARD BENTLEY & SON, + 8, NEW BURLINGTON STREET, LONDON, W. + + Publishers in Ordinary to Her Majesty. + + _All rights reserved._ + + + LONDON: + PRINTED BY OGDEN, SMALE AND CO. LIMITED, + GREAT SAFFRON HILL, E.C. + + + + +_CONTENTS._ + + +THE FATE OF THE HARA DIAMOND. Illustrated by M.L. GOW. + + Chap. I. My Arrival at Deepley Walls Jan + II. The Mistress of Deepley Walls Jan + III. A Voyage of Discovery Jan + IV. Scarsdale Weir Jan + V. At Rose Cottage Feb + VI. The Growth of a Mystery Feb + VII. Exit Janet Hope Feb + VIII. By the Scotch Express Feb + IX. At "The Golden Griffin" Mar + X. The Stolen Manuscript Mar + XI. Bon Repos Mar + XII. The Amsterdam Edition of 1698 Mar + XIII. M. Platzoff's Secret--Captain Ducie's Translation of + M. Paul Platzoff's MS Mar + XIV. Drashkil-Smoking Apr + XV. The Diamond Apr + XVI. Janet's Return Apr + XVII. Deepley Walls after Seven Years Apr + XVIII. Janet in a New Character May + XIX. The Dawn of Love May + XX. The Narrative of Sergeant Nicholas May + XXI. Counsel taken with Mr. Madgin May + XXII. Mr. Madgin at the Helm Jun + XXIII. Mr. Madgin's Secret Journey Jun + XXIV. Enter Madgin Junior Jun + XXV. Madgin Junior's First Report Jun + + * * * * * + +THE SILENT CHIMES. By JOHNNY LUDLOW (Mrs. HENRY WOOD). + + Putting Them Up Jan + Playing Again Feb + Ringing at Midday Mar + Not Heard Apr + Silent for Ever May + + * * * * * + +THE BRETONS AT HOME. By CHARLES W. WOOD, F.R.G.S. With + 35 Illustrations Jan, Feb, Mar, Apr, May, Jun + + * * * * * + +About the Weather Jun +Across the River. By HELEN M. BURNSIDE Apr +After Twenty Years. By ADA M. TROTTER Feb +A Memory. By GEORGE COTTERELL Feb +A Modern Witch Jan +An April Folly. By GILBERT H. PAGE Apr +A Philanthropist. By ANGUS GREY Jun +Aunt Phoebe's Heirlooms: An Experience in Hypnotism Feb +A Social Debut Mar +A Song. By G.B. STUART Jan +Enlightenment. By E. NESBIT Feb +In a Bernese Valley. By ALEXANDER LAMONT Feb +Legend of an Ancient Minster. By JOHN GRĈME Mar +Longevity. By W.F. AINSWORTH, F.S.A. Apr +Mademoiselle Elise. By EDWARD FRANCIS Jun +Mediums and Mysteries. By NARISSA ROSAVO Feb +Miss Kate Marsden Jan +My May Queen. By JOHN JERVIS BERESFORD, M.A. May +Old China Jun +On Letter-Writing. By A.H. JAPP, LL.D. May +Paul. By the Author of "Adonais, Q.C." May +"Proctorised" Apr +Rondeau. By E. NESBIT Mar +Saint or Satan? By A. BERESFORD Feb +Sappho. By MARY GREY Mar +Serenade. By E. NESBIT Jun +Sonnets. By JULIA KAVANAGH Jan, Feb, Apr, Jun +So Very Unattractive! Jun +Spes. By JOHN JERVIS BERESFORD, M.A. Apr +Sweet Nancy. By JEANIE GWYNNE BETTANY May +The Church Garden. By CHRISTIAN BURKE May +The Only Son of his Mother. By LETITIA MCCLINTOCK Mar +To my Soul. From the French of Victor Hugo Jun +Unexplained. By LETITIA MCCLINTOCK Apr +Who Was the Third Maid? Jan +Winter in Absence Feb + + * * * * * + +_POETRY._ + +Sonnets. By JULIA KAVANAGH Jan, Feb, Apr, Jun +A Song. By G.B. STUART Jan +Enlightenment. By E. NESBIT Feb +Winter in Absence Feb +A Memory. By GEORGE COTTERELL Feb +In a Bernese Valley. By ALEXANDER LAMONT Feb +Rondeau. By E. NESBIT Mar +Spes. By JOHN JERVIS BERESFORD, M.A. Apr +Across the River. By HELEN M. BURNSIDE Apr +My May Queen. By JOHN JERVIS BERESFORD, M.A. May +The Church Garden. By CHRISTIAN BURKE May +Serenade. By E. NESBIT Jun +To my Soul. From the French of Victor Hugo Jun +Old China Jun + + * * * * * + +_ILLUSTRATIONS._ + +By M.L. Gow. + + "I advanced slowly up the room, stopped, and curtsied." + + "I saw and recognised the mysterious midnight visitor." + + "He came back in a few minutes, but so transformed in outward + appearance that Ducie scarcely knew him." + + "Behold!" + + "Sister Agnes knelt for a few moments and bent her head in silent + prayer." + + "He put his hand to his side, and motioned Mirpah to open the letter." + + * * * * * + +Illustrations to "The Bretons at Home." + + + + +[Illustration: I ADVANCED SLOWLY UP THE ROOM, STOPPED AND +CURTSIED. + +Page 31.] + + + + +THE ARGOSY. + +_JANUARY, 1891._ + + + + +THE SILENT CHIMES. + +PUTTING THEM UP. + + +I hardly know whether to write this history, or not; for its events did +not occur within my own recollection, and I can only relate them at +second-hand--from the Squire and others. They are curious enough; +especially as regards the three parsons--one following upon another--in +their connection with the Monk family, causing no end of talk in Church +Leet parish, as well as in other parishes within ear-shot. + +About three miles' distance from Church Dykely, going northwards across +country, was the rural parish of Church Leet. It contained a few +farmhouses and some labourers' cottages. The church, built of grey +stone, stood in its large grave-yard; the parsonage, a commodious house, +was close by; both of them were covered with time-worn ivy. Nearly half +a mile off, on a gentle eminence, rose the handsome mansion called Leet +Hall, the abode of the Monk family. Nearly the whole of the +parish--land, houses, church and all--belonged to them. At the time I am +about to tell of they were the property of one man--Godfrey Monk. + +The late owner of the place (except for one short twelvemonth) was old +James Monk, Godfrey's father. Old James had three sons and one +daughter--Emma--his wife dying early. The eldest son (mostly styled +"young James") was about as wild a blade as ever figured in story; the +second son, Raymond, was an invalid; the third, Godfrey, a reckless lad, +ran away to sea when he was fourteen. + +If the Monks were celebrated for one estimable quality more than +another, it was temper: a cross-grained, imperious, obstinate temper. +"Run away to sea, has he?" cried old James when he heard the news; "very +well, at sea he shall stop." And at sea Godfrey did stop, not disliking +the life, and perhaps not finding any other open to him. He worked his +way up in the merchant service by degrees, until he became commander and +was called Captain Monk. + +The years went on. Young James died, and the other two sons grew to be +middle-aged men. Old James, the father, found by signs and tokens that +his own time was approaching; and he was the next to go. Save for a +slender income bequeathed to Godfrey and to his daughter, the whole of +the property was left to Raymond, and to Godfrey after him if Raymond +had no son. The entail had been cut off in the past generation; for +which act the reasons do not concern us. + +So Raymond, ailing greatly always, entered into possession of his +inheritance. He lived about a twelvemonth afterwards, and then died: +died unmarried. Therefore Godfrey came into all. + +People were curious, the Squire says, as to what sort of man Godfrey +would turn out to be; for he had not troubled home much since he ran +away. He was a widower; that much was known; his wife having been a +native of Trinidad, in the West Indies. + +A handsome man, with fair, curling hair (what was left of it); proud +blue eyes; well-formed features with a chronic flush upon them, for he +liked his glass, and took it; a commanding, imperious manner, and a +temper uncompromising as the grave. Such was Captain Godfrey Monk; now +in his forty-fifth year. Upon his arrival at Leet Hall after landing, +with his children and one or two dusky attendants in their train, he was +received by his sister Emma, Mrs. Carradyne. Major Carradyne had died +fighting in India, and his wife, at the request of her brother Raymond, +came then to live at Leet Hall. Not of necessity, for Mrs. Carradyne was +well off and could have made her home where she pleased, but Raymond had +liked to have her. Godfrey also expressed his pleasure that she should +remain; she could act as mother to his children. + +Godfrey's children were three: Katherine, aged seventeen; Hubert, aged +ten; and Eliza, aged eight. The girls had their father's handsome +features, but in their skin there ran a dusky tinge, hinting of other +than pure Saxon blood; and they were every whit as haughtily self-willed +as he was. The boy, Hubert, was extremely pretty, his face fair, his +complexion delicately beautiful, his auburn hair bright, his manner +winning; but he liked to exercise his own will, and appeared to have +generally done it. + +A day or two, and Mrs. Carradyne sat down aghast. "I never saw children +so troublesome and self-willed in all my life, Godfrey," she said to her +brother. "Have they ever been controlled at all?" + +"Had their own way pretty much, I expect," answered the Captain. "I was +not often at home, you know, and there's nobody else they'd obey." + +"Well, Godfrey, if I am to remain here, you will have to help me manage +them." + +"That's as may be, Emma. When I deem it necessary to speak, I speak; +otherwise I don't interfere. And you must not get into the habit of +appealing to me, recollect." + +Captain Monk's conversation was sometimes interspersed with sundry light +words, not at all orthodox, and not necessarily delivered in anger. In +those past days swearing was regarded as a gentleman's accomplishment; a +sailor, it was believed, could not at all get along without it. Manners +change. The present age prides itself upon its politeness: but what of +its sincerity? + +Mrs. Carradyne, mild and gentle, commenced her task of striving to tame +her brother's rebellious children. She might as well have let it alone. +The girls laughed at her one minute and set her at defiance the next. +Hubert, who had good feeling, was more obedient; he did not openly defy +her. At times, when her task pressed heavily upon her spirits, Mrs. +Carradyne felt tempted to run away from Leet Hall, as Godfrey had run +from it in the days gone by. Her own two children were frightened at +their cousins, and she speedily sent both to school, lest they should +catch their bad manners. Henry was ten, the age of Hubert; Lucy was +between five and six. + +Just before the death of Raymond Monk, the living of Church Leet became +vacant, and the last act of his life was to present it to a worthy young +clergyman named George West. This caused intense dissatisfaction to +Godfrey. He had heard of the late incumbent's death, and when he arrived +home and found the living filled up he proclaimed his anger loudly, +lavishing abuse upon poor dead Raymond for his precipitancy. He had +wanted to bestow it upon a friend of his, a Colonial chaplain, and had +promised it to him. It was a checkmate there was no help for now, for +Mr. West could not be turned out again; but Captain Monk was not +accustomed to be checkmated, and resented it accordingly. He took up, +for no other reason, a most inveterate dislike to George West, and +showed it practically. + +In every step the Vicar took, at every turn and thought, he found +himself opposed by Captain Monk. Had he a suggestion to make for the +welfare of the parish, his patron ridiculed it; did he venture to +propose some wise measure at a vestry meeting, the Captain put him and +his measure down. Not civilly either, but with a stinging contempt, +semi-covert though it was, that made its impression on the farmers +around. The Reverend George West was a man of humility, given to much +self-disparagement, so he bore all in silence and hoped for better +times. + + * * * * * + +The time went on; three years of it; Captain Monk had fully settled down +in his ancestral home, and the neighbours had learnt what a domineering, +self-willed man he was. But he had his virtues. He was kind in a general +way, generous where it pleased him to be, inordinately attached to his +children, and hospitable to a fault. + +On the last day of every year, as the years came round, Captain Monk, +following his late father's custom, gave a grand dinner to his tenants; +and a very good custom it would have been, but that he and they got +rather too jolly. The parson was always invited--and went; and sometimes +a few of Captain Monk's personal friends were added. + +Christmas came round this year as usual, and the invitations to the +dinner went out. One came to Squire Todhetley, a youngish man then, and +one to my father, William Ludlow, who was younger than the Squire. It +was a green Christmas; the weather so warm and genial that the hearty +farmers, flocking to Leet Hall, declared they saw signs of buds +sprouting in the hedges, whilst the large fire in the Captain's +dining-room was quite oppressive. + +Looking from the window of the parsonage sitting-room in the twilight, +while drawing on his gloves, preparatory to setting forth, stood Mr. +West. His wife was bending over an easy-chair, in which their only +child, little Alice, lay back, covered up. Her breathing was quick, her +skin parched with fever. The wife looked sickly herself. + +"Well, I suppose it is time to go," observed Mr. West, slowly. "I shall +be late if I don't." + +"I rather wonder you go at all, George," returned his wife. "Year after +year, when you come back from this dinner, you invariably say you will +not go to another." + +"I know it, Mary. I dislike the drinking that goes on--and the free +conversation--and the objectionable songs; I feel out of place in it +all." + +"And the Captain's contemptuous treatment of yourself, you might add." + +"Yes, that is another unwelcome item in the evening's programme." + +"Then, George, why _do_ you go?" + +"Well, I think you know why. I do not like to refuse the invitation; it +would only increase Captain Monk's animosity and widen still further the +breach between us. As patron he holds so much in his power. Besides +that, my presence at the table does act, I believe, as a mild restraint +on some of them, keeping the drinking and the language somewhat within +bounds. Yes, I suppose my duty lies in going. But I shall not stay late, +Mary," added the parson, bending to look at the suffering child; "and if +you see any real necessity for the doctor to be called in to-night, I +will go for him." + +"Dood-bye, pa-pa," lisped the little four-year-old maiden. + +He kissed the little hot face, said adieu to his wife and went out, +hoping that the child would recover without the doctor; for the living +of Church Leet was but a poor one, though the parsonage house was so +handsome. It was a hundred-and-sixty pounds a year, for which sum the +tithes had been compounded, and Mr. West had not much money to spare +for superfluities--especially as he had to substantially help his +mother. + +The twilight had deepened almost to night, and the lights in the mansion +seemed to smile a cheerful welcome as he approached it. The pillared +entrance, ascended to by broad steps, stood in the middle, and a raised +terrace of stone ran along before the windows on either side. It was +quite true that every year at the conclusion of these feasts, the Vicar +resolved never to attend another; but he was essentially a man of peace, +striving ever to lay oil upon troubled waters, after the example left by +his Master. + +Dinner. The board was full. Captain Monk presided, genial to-day; genial +even to the parson. Squire Todhetley faced the Captain at the foot; Mr. +West sat at the Squire's right hand, between him and Farmer Threpp, a +quiet man and supposed to be a very substantial one. All went on +pleasantly; but when the elaborate dinner gave place to dessert and +wine-drinking, the company became rather noisy. + +"I think it's about time you left us," cried the Squire by-and-by to +young Hubert, who sat next him on the other side: and over and over +again Mr. Todhetley has repeated to us in later years the very words +that passed. + +"By George, yes!" put in a bluff and hearty fox-hunter, the master of +the hounds, bending forward to look at the lad, for he was in a line +with him, and breaking short off an anecdote he was regaling the company +with. "I forgot you were there, Master Hubert. Quite time you went to +bed." + +"I daresay!" laughed the boy. "Please let me alone, all of you. I don't +want attention drawn to me." + +But the slight commotion had attracted Captain Monk's notice. He saw his +son. + +"What's that?--Hubert! What brings you there now, you young pirate? I +ordered you to go out with the cloth." + +"I am not doing any harm, papa," said the boy, turning his fair and +beautiful face towards his father. + +Captain Monk pointed his stern finger at the door; a mandate which +Hubert dared not disobey, and he went out. + +The company sat on, an interminable period of time it seemed to the +Vicar. He glanced stealthily at his watch. Eleven o'clock. + +"Thinking of going, Parson?" said Mr. Threpp. "I'll go with you. My +head's not one of the strongest, and I've had about as much as I ought +to carry." + +They rose quietly, not to disturb the table; intending to steal away, if +possible, without being observed. Unluckily, Captain Monk chanced to be +looking that way. + +"Halloa! who's turning sneak?--Not you, surely, Parson!--" in a +meaningly contemptuous tone. "And _you_, Threpp, of all men! Sit down +again, both of you, if you don't want to quarrel with me. Odds fish! +has my dining-room got sharks in it, that you'd run away? Winter, just +lock the door, will you; you are close to it; and pass up the key to +me." + +Mr. Winter, a jovial old man and the largest tenant on the estate, rose +to do the Captain's behest, and sent up the key. + +"Nobody quits my room," said the host, as he took it, "until we have +seen the old year out and the new one in. What else do you come for--eh, +gentlemen?" + +The revelry went on. The decanters circulated more quickly, the glasses +clicked, the songs became louder, the Captain's sea stories broader. Mr. +West perforce made the best of the situation, certain words of Holy Writ +running through his memory: + +"_Look not thou upon the wine when it is red, when it giveth its colour +in the cup, when it moveth itself aright!_" + +Well, more than well, for Captain Monk, that he had not looked upon the +red wine that night! + +In the midst of all this, the hall clock began to strike twelve. The +Captain rose, after filling his glass to the brim. + +"Bumpers round, gentlemen. On your legs. Ready? Hooray! Here's to the +shade of the year that's gone, and may it have buried all our cares with +it! And here's good luck to the one setting-in. A happy New Year to you +all; and may we never know a moment in it worse than the present! +Three-times-three--and drain your glasses." + +"But we have had the toast too soon!" called out one of the farmers, +making the discovery close after the cheers had subsided. "It wants some +minutes yet to midnight, Captain." + +Captain Monk snatched out his watch--worn in those days in what was +called the fob-pocket--its chain and bunch of seals at the end hanging +down. + +"By Jupiter!" he exclaimed. "Hang that butler of mine! He knew the hall +clock was too fast, and I told him to put it back. If his memory serves +him no better than this, he may ship himself off to a fresh +berth.--Hark! Listen!" + +It was the church clock striking twelve. The sound reached the +dining-room very clearly, the wind setting that way. "Another bumper," +cried the Captain, and his guests drank it. + +"This day twelvemonth I was at a feast in Derbyshire; the bells of a +neighbouring church rang-in the year with pleasant melody; chimes they +were," remarked a guest, who was a partial stranger. "Your church has no +bells, I suppose?" + +"It has one; an old ting-tang that calls us to service on a Sunday," +said Mr. Winter. + +"I like to hear those midnight chimes, for my part. I like to hear them +chime-in the new year," went on the stranger. + +"Chimes!" cried out Captain Monk, who was getting very considerably +elated, "why should we not have chimes? Mr. West, why don't we have +chimes?" + +"Our church does not possess any, sir--as this gentleman has just +remarked," was Mr. West's answer. + +"Egad, but that parson of ours is going to set us all ablaze with his +wit!" jerked out the Captain ironically. "I asked, sir, why we should +not get a set of chimes; I did not say we had got them. Is there any +just cause or impediment why we should not, Mr. Vicar?" + +"Only the expense," replied the Vicar, in a conciliatory tone. + +"Oh, bother expense! That's what you are always wanting to groan over. +Mr. Churchwarden Threpp, we will call a vestry meeting and make a rate." + +"The parish could not bear it, Captain Monk," remonstrated the +clergyman. "You know what dissatisfaction was caused by the last extra +rate put on, and how low an ebb things are at just now." + +"When I will a thing, I do it," retorted the Captain, with a meaning +word or two. "We'll send out the rate and we'll get the chimes." + +"It will, I fear, lie in my duty to protest against it," spoke the +uneasy parson. + +"It may lie in your duty to be a wet-blanket, but you won't protest me +out of my will. Gentlemen, we will all meet here again this time +twelvemonth, when the chimes shall ring-in the new year for you.--Here, +Dutton, you can unlock the door now," concluded the Captain, handing the +key to the other churchwarden. "Our parson is upon thorns to be away +from us." + +Not the parson only, but several others availed themselves of the +opportunity to escape. + + +II. + +It perhaps did not surprise the parish to find that its owner and +master, Captain Monk, intended to persist in his resolution of +embellishing the church-tower with a set of chiming-bells. They knew him +too well to hope anything less. Why! two years ago, at the same annual +feast, some remarks or other at table put it into his head to declare he +would stop up the public path by the Rill; and his obstinate will +carried it out, regardless of the inconvenience it caused. + +A vestry meeting was called, and the rate (to obtain funds for the +bells) was at length passed. Two or three voices were feebly lifted in +opposition; Mr. West alone had courage to speak out; but the Captain put +him down with his strong hand. It may be asked why Captain Monk did not +provide the funds himself for this whim. But he would never touch his +own pocket for the benefit of the parish if he could help it: and it was +thought that his antagonism to the parson was the deterring motive. + +To impose the rate was one thing, to collect it quite another. Some of +the poorer ratepayers protested with tears in their eyes that they could +not pay. Superfluous rates (really not necessary ones) were perpetually +being inflicted upon them, they urged, and were bringing them, together +with a succession of recent bad seasons, to the verge of ruin. They +carried their remonstrances to their Vicar, and he in turn carried them +to Captain Monk. + +It only widened the breach. The more persistently, though gently, Mr. +West pleaded the cause of his parishioners, asking the Captain to be +considerate to them for humanity's sake, the greater grew the other's +obstinacy in holding to his own will. To be thus opposed roused all the +devil within him--it was his own expression; and he grew to hate Mr. +West with an exceeding bitter hatred. + +The chimes were ordered--to play one tune only. Mr. West asked, when the +thing was absolutely inevitable, that at least some sweet and sacred +melody, acceptable to church-going ears, might be chosen; but Captain +Monk fixed on a sea-song that was a favourite of his own--"The Bay of +Biscay." At the end of every hour, when the clock had struck, the Bay of +Biscay was to burst forth to charm the parish. + +The work was put in hand at once, Captain Monk finding the necessary +funds, to be repaid by the proceeds of the rate. Other expenses were +involved, such as the strengthening of the belfry. The rate was not +collected quickly. It was, I say, one of those times of scarcity that +people used to talk so much of years ago; and when the parish beadle, +who was the parish collector, went round with the tax-paper in his hand, +the poorer of the cottagers could not respond to it. Some of them had +not paid the last levy, and Captain Monk threatened harsh measures. +Altogether, what with one thing or another, Church Leet that year was +kept in a state of ferment. But the work went on. + + * * * * * + +One windy day in September, Mr. West sat in his study writing a sermon, +when a jarring crash rang out from the church close by. He leaped from +his chair. The unusual noise had startled him; and it struck on every +chord of vexation he possessed. He knew that workmen were busy in the +tower, but this was the first essay of the chimes. The bells had clashed +in some way one upon the other; not giving out The Bay of Biscay or any +other melody, but a very discordant jangle indeed. It was the first and +the last time that poor George West heard their sound. + +He put the blotting-paper upon his sermon; he was in no mind to continue +it then; took up his hat and went out. His wife spoke to him from the +open window. + +"Are you going out now, George? Tea is all but ready." + +Turning back on the path, he passed into the sitting-room. A cup of tea +might soothe his nerves. The tea-tray stood on the table, and Mrs. West, +caddy in hand, was putting the tea into the tea-pot. Little Alice sat +gravely by. + +"Did you hear dat noise up in the church, papa?" she asked. + +"Yes, I heard it, dear," sighed the Vicar. + +"A fine clashing it was!" cried Mrs. West. "I have heard something else +this afternoon, George, worse than that: Bean's furniture is being taken +away." + +"What?" cried the Vicar. + +"It's true. Sarah went out on an errand and passed the cottage. The +chairs and tables were being put outside the door by two men, she says: +brokers, I conclude." + +Mr. West made short work of his tea and started for the scene. Thomas +Bean was a very small farmer indeed, renting about thirty acres. What +with the heavy rates, as he said, and other outgoings and bad seasons, +and ill-luck altogether, he had been behind in his payments this long +while; and now the ill-luck seemed to have come to a climax. Bean and +his wife were old; their children were scattered abroad. + +"Oh, sir," cried the old lady when she saw the Vicar, the tears raining +from her eyes, "it cannot be right that this oppression should fall upon +us! We had just managed--Heaven knows how, for I'm sure I don't--to pay +the Midsummer rent; and now they've come upon us for the rates, and have +took away things worth ten times the sum." + +"For the rates!" mechanically spoke the Vicar. + +She supposed it was a question. "Yes, sir; two of 'em we had in the +house. One was for putting up the chimes; and the other--well, I can't +just remember what the other was. The beadle, old Crow, comes in, sir, +this afternoon. 'Where be the master?' says he. 'Gone over to t'other +side of Church Dykely,' says I. 'Well,' says he, upon that, 'you be +going to have some visitors presently, and it's a pity he's out.' +'Visitors, for what, Crow?' says I. 'Oh, you'll see,' says he; 'and then +perhaps you'll wish you'd bestirred yourselves to pay your just dues. +Captain Monk's patience have been running on for a goodish while, and at +last it have run clean out.' Well, sir--" + +She had to make a pause; unable to control her grief. + +"Well, sir," she went on presently, "Crow's back was hardly turned, when +up came two men, wheeling a truck. I saw 'em afar off, by the ricks +yonder. One came in; t'other stayed outside with the truck. He asked me +whether I was ready with the money for the taxes; and I told him I was +not ready, and had but a couple of shillings in the house. 'Then I must +take the value of it in kind,' says he. And without another word, he +beckons in the outside man to help him. Our middle table, a mahogany, +they seized; and the handsome oak chest, which had been our pride; and +the master's arm-chair--But, there! I can't go on." + +Mr. West felt nearly as sorrowful as she, and far more angry. In his +heart he believed that Captain Monk had done this oppressive thing in +revenge. A great deal of ill-feeling had existed in the parish touching +the rate made for the chimes; and the Captain assumed that the few who +had not yet paid it _would_ not pay--not that they could not. + +Quitting the cottage in an impulse of anger, he walked swiftly to Leet +Hall. It lay in his duty, as he fully deemed, to avow fearlessly to +Captain Monk what he thought of this act of oppression, and to protest +against it. The beams of the setting sun, sinking below the horizon in +the still autumn evening, fell across the stubbled fields from which the +corn had not long been reaped; all around seemed to speak of peace. + +To accommodate two gentlemen who had come from Worcester that day to +Leet Hall on business, and wished to quit it again before dark, the +dinner had been served earlier than usual. The guests had left, but +Captain Monk was seated still over his wine in the dining-room when Mr. +West was shown in. In crossing the hall to it, he met Mrs. Carradyne, +who shook hands with him cordially. + +Captain Monk looked surprised. "Why, this is an unexpected pleasure--a +visit from you, Mr. Vicar," he cried, in mocking jest. "Hope you have +come to your senses! Sit down. Will you take port or sherry?" + +"Captain Monk," returned the Vicar, gravely, as he took the chair the +servant had placed, "I am obliged for your courtesy, but I did not +intrude upon you this evening to drink wine. I have seen a very sad +sight, and I am come hoping to induce you to repair it." + +"Seen what?" cried the Captain, who, it is well to mention, had been +taking his wine very freely, even for him. "A flaming sword in the sky?" + +"Your tenants, poor Thomas Bean and his wife, are being turned out of +house and home, or almost equivalent to it. Some of their furniture has +been seized this afternoon to satisfy the demand for these disputed +taxes." + +"Who disputes the taxes?" + +"The tax imposed for the chimes was always a disputed tax; and--" + +"Tush!" interrupted the Captain; "Bean owes other things as well as +taxes." + +"It was the last feather, sir, which broke the camel's back." + +"The last feather will not be taken off, whether it breaks backs or +leaves them whole," retorted the Captain, draining his glass of port and +filling it again. "Take you note of that, Mr. Parson." + +"Others are in the same condition as the Beans--quite unable to pay +these rates. I pray you, Captain Monk--I am here to _pray_ you--not to +proceed in the same manner against them. I would also pray you, sir, to +redeem this act of oppression, by causing their goods to be returned to +these two poor, honest, hard-working people." + +"Hold your tongue!" retorted the Captain, aroused to anger. "A pretty +example _you'd_ set, let you have your way. Every one of the lot shall +be made to pay to the last farthing. Who the devil is to pay, do you +suppose, if they don't?" + +"Rates are imposed upon the parish needlessly, Captain Monk; it has been +so ever since my time here. Pardon me for saying that if you put up +chimes to gratify yourself, you should bear the expense, and not throw +it upon those who have a struggle to get bread to eat." + +Captain Monk drank off another glass. "Any more treason, Parson?" + +"Yes," said Mr. West, "if you like to call it so. My conscience tells me +that the whole procedure in regard to setting up these chimes is so +wrong, so manifestly unjust, that I have determined not to allow them to +be heard until the rates levied for them are refunded to the poor and +oppressed. I believe I have the power to close the belfry-tower, and I +shall act upon it." + +"By Jove! do you think _you_ are going to stand between me and my will?" +cried the Captain passionately. "Every individual who has not yet paid +the rate shall be made to pay it to-morrow." + +"There is another world, Captain Monk," interposed the mild voice of the +minister, "to which, I hope, we are all--" + +"If you attempt to preach to me--" + +At this moment a spoon fell to the ground by the sideboard. The Vicar +turned to look; his back was towards it; the Captain peered also at the +end of the rapidly-darkening room: when both became aware that one of +the servants--Michael, who had shown in Mr. West--stood there; had stood +there all the time. + +"What are you waiting for, sirrah?" roared his master. "We don't want +_you_. Here! put this window open an inch or two before you go; the +room's close." + +"Shall I bring lights, sir?" asked Michael, after doing as he was +directed. + +"No: who wants lights? Stir the fire into a blaze." + +Michael left them. It was from him that thus much of the conversation +was subsequently known. + +Not five minutes had elapsed when a commotion was heard in the +dining-room. Then the bell rang violently, and the Captain opened the +door--overturning a chair in his passage to it--and shouted out for a +light. More than one servant flew to obey the order: in his hasty moods +their master brooked not delay: and three separate candles were carried +in. + +"Good lack, master!" exclaimed the butler, John Rimmer, who was a native +of Church Dykely, "what's amiss with the Parson?" + +"Lift him up, and loosen his neck-cloth," said Captain Monk, his tone +less imperious than usual. + +Mr. West lay on the hearthrug near his chair, his head resting close to +the fender. Rimmer raised his head, another servant took off his black +neck-tie; for it was only on high days that the poor Vicar indulged in +a white one. He gasped twice, struggled slightly, and then lay quietly +in the butler's arms. + +"Oh, sir!" burst forth the man in a horror-stricken voice to his master, +"this is surely death!" + +It surely was. George West, who had gone there but just before in the +height of health and strength, had breathed his last. + +How did it happen? How could it have happened? Ay, how indeed? It was a +question which has never been entirely solved in Church Leet to this +day. + +Captain Monk's account, both privately and at the inquest, was this: As +they talked further together, after Michael left the room, the Vicar +went on to browbeat him shamefully about the new chimes, vowing they +should never play, never be heard; at last, rising in an access of +passion, the Parson struck him (the Captain) in the face. He returned +the blow--who wouldn't return it?--and the Vicar fell. He believed his +head must have struck against the iron fender in falling: if not, if the +blow had been an unlucky one (it took effect just behind the left ear), +it was only given in self-defence. The jury, composed of Captain Monk's +tenants, expressed themselves satisfied, and returned a verdict of +Accidental Death. + +"A false account," pronounced poor Mrs. West, in her dire tribulation. +"My husband never struck him--never; he was not one to be goaded into +unbecoming anger, even by Captain Monk. _George struck no blow +whatever_; I can answer for it. If ever a man was murdered, he has +been." + +Curious rumours arose. It was said that Mrs. Carradyne, taking the air +on the terrace outside in the calmness of the autumn evening, heard the +fatal quarrel through the open window; that she heard Mr. West, after he +had received the death blow, wail forth a prophecy (or whatever it might +be called) that those chimes would surely be accursed; that whenever +their sound should be heard, so long as they were suffered to remain in +the tower, it should be the signal of woe to the Monk family. + +Mrs. Carradyne utterly denied this; she had not been on the terrace at +all, she said. Upon which the onus was shifted to Michael: who, it was +suspected, had stolen out to listen to the end of the quarrel, and had +heard the ominous words. Michael, in his turn, also denied it; but he +was not believed. Anyway, the covert whisper had gone abroad and would +not be laid. + + +III. + +Captain Monk speedily filled up the vacant living, appointing to it the +Reverend Thomas Dancox, an occasional visitor at Leet Hall, who was +looking out for one. + +The new Vicar turned out to be a man after the Captain's heart, a +rollicking, jovial, fox-hunting young parson, as many a parson was in +those days--and took small blame to himself for it. He was only a year +or two past thirty, good-looking, of taking manners and +hail-fellow-well-met with the parish in general, who liked him and +called him to his face Tom Dancox. + +All this pleased Captain Monk. But very soon something was to arrive +that did not please him--a suspicion that the young parson and his +daughter Katherine were on rather too good terms with one another. + +One day in November he stalked into the drawing-room, where Katherine +was sitting with her aunt. Hubert and Eliza were away at school, also +Mrs. Carradyne's two children. + +"Was Dancox here last night?" began Captain Monk. + +"Yes," replied Mrs. Carradyne. + +"And the evening before--Monday?" + +Mrs. Carradyne felt half afraid to answer, the Captain's tone was +becoming so threatening. "I--I think so," she rather hesitatingly said. +"Was he not, Katherine?" + +Katherine Monk, a dark, haughty young woman, twenty-one now, turned +round with a flush on her handsome face. "Why do you ask, papa?" + +"I ask to be answered," replied he, standing with his hands in the +pockets of his velveteen shooting coat, a purple tinge of incipient +anger rising in his cheeks. + +"Then Mr. Dancox did spend Monday evening here." + +"And I saw him walking with you in the meadow by the rill this morning," +continued the Captain. "Look here, Katherine, _no sweet-hearting with +Tom Dancox_. He may do very well for a parson; I like him as such, as +such only, you understand; but he can be no match for you." + +"You are disturbing yourself unnecessarily, sir," said Katherine, her +own tone an angry one. + +"Well, I hope that is so; I should not like to think otherwise. Anyway, +a word in season does no harm; and, take you notice that I have spoken +it. You also, Emma." + +As he left the room, Mrs. Carradyne spoke, dropping her voice: +"Katherine, you know that I had already warned you. I told you it would +not do to fall into any particular friendship with Mr. Dancox; that your +father would never countenance it." + +"And if I were to?--and if he did not?" scornfully returned Katherine. +"What then, Aunt Emma?" + +"Be silent, child; you must not talk in that strain. Your papa is +perfectly right in this matter. Tom Dancox is not suitable in any +way--for _you_." + +This took place in November. Katherine paid little heed to the advice; +she was not one to put up with advice of any sort, and she and Mr. +Dancox met occasionally under the rose. Early in December she went with +Mr. Dancox into the Parsonage, while he searched for a book he was +about to lend her. That was the plea; the truth, no doubt, being that +the two wanted a bit of a chat in quiet. As ill-luck had it, when she +was coming out again, the Parson in attendance on her as far as the +gate, Captain Monk came by. + +A scene ensued. Captain Monk, in a terrible access of passion, vowed by +all the laws of the Medes and Persians, which alter not, that never, in +life or after death, should those two rebellious ones be man and wife, +and he invoked unheard-of penalties on their heads should they dare to +contemplate disobedience to his decree. + +Thenceforth there was no more open rebellion; upon the surface all +looked smooth. Captain Monk understood the folly to be at an end: that +the two had come to their senses; and he took Tom Dancox back into +favour. Mrs. Carradyne assumed the same. But Katherine had her father's +unyielding will, and the Parson was bold and careless, and in love. + + * * * * * + +The last day of the year came round, and the usual banquet would come +with it. The weather this Christmas was not like that of last; the white +snow lay on the ground, the cold biting frost hardened the glistening +icicles on the trees. + +And the chimes? Ready these three months past, they had not yet been +heard. They would be to-night. Whether Captain Monk wished the +remembrance of Mr. West's death to die away a bit first, or that he +preferred to open the treat on the banqueting night, certain it was that +he had kept them silent. When the church clock should toll the midnight +knell of the old year, the chimes would ring out to welcome the new one +and gladden the ears of Church Leet. + +But not without a remonstrance. That morning, as the Captain sat in his +study writing a letter, Mrs. Carradyne came to him. + +"Godfrey," she said in a low and pleading tone, "you will not suffer the +chimes to play to-night, will you? Pray do not." + +"Not suffer the chimes to play?" cried the Captain. "But indeed I shall. +Why, this is the special night they were put up for." + +"I know it, Godfrey. But--you cannot think what a strangely-strong +feeling I have against it: an instinct, it seems to me. The chimes have +brought nothing but discomfort and disaster yet; they may bring more in +the future." + +Captain Monk stared at her. "What d'ye mean, Emma?" + +"_I would never let them be heard_," she said impressively. "I would +have them taken down again. The story went about, you know, that poor +George West in dying prophesied that whenever they should be heard woe +would fall upon this house. I am not superstitious, Godfrey, but--" + +Sheer passion had tied, so far, Godfrey Monk's lips. "Not +superstitious!" he raved out. "You are worse than that, Emma--a fool. +How dare you bring your nonsense here? There's the door." + +The banquet hour approached. Nearly all the guests of last year were +again present in the warm and holly-decorated dining-room, the one +notable exception being the ill-fated Parson West. Parson Dancox came in +his stead, and said grace from the post of honour at the Captain's right +hand. Captain Monk did not appear to feel any remorse or regret: he was +jovial, free, and grandly hospitable; one might suppose he had promoted +the dead clergyman to a canonry instead of to a place in the churchyard. + +"What became of the poor man's widow, Squire?" whispered a gentleman +from the neighbourhood of Evesham to Mr. Todhetley, who sat on the +left-hand of his host; Sir Thomas Rivers taking the foot of the table +this year. + +"Mrs. West? Well, we heard she opened a girls' school up in London," +breathed the Squire. + +"And what tale was that about his leaving a curse on the chimes?--I +never heard the rights of it." + +"Hush!" said the Squire cautiously. "Nobody talks of that here. Or +believes it, either. Poor West was a man to leave a blessing behind him; +never a curse." + +Hubert, at home for the holidays, was again at table. He was fourteen +now, tall of his age and slender, his blue eyes bright, his complexion +delicately beautiful. The pleated cambric frill of his shirt, which hung +over the collar of his Eton jacket after the fashion of the day, was +carried low in front, displaying the small white throat; his golden hair +curled naturally. A boy to admire and be proud of. The manners were more +decorous this year than they ever had been, and Hubert was allowed to +sit on. Possibly the shadow of George West's unhappy death lay +insensibly upon the party. + +It was about half-past nine o'clock when the butler came into the room, +bringing a small note, twisted up, to his master from Mrs. Carradyne. +Captain Monk opened it and held it towards one of the lighted branches +to read the few words it contained. + + "_A gentleman is asking to speak a word to Mr. Dancox. He says it + is important._" + +Captain Monk tore the paper to bits. "_Not to-night_, tell your +mistress, is my answer," said he to Rimmer. "Hubert, you can go to your +aunt now; it's past your bed-time." + +There could be no appeal, as the boy knew; but he went off unwillingly +and in bitter resentment against Mrs. Carradyne. He supposed she had +sent for him. + +"What a cross old thing you are, Aunt Emma!" he exclaimed as he entered +the drawing-room on the other side the hall. "You won't let Harry go in +at all to the banquets, and you won't let me stay at them! Papa meant--I +think he meant--to let me remain there to hear the chimes. Why need you +have interfered to send for me?" + +"I neither interfered with you, Hubert, nor sent for you. A gentleman, +who did not give his name and preferred to wait outside, wants to see +Mr. Dancox; that's all," said Mrs. Carradyne. "You gave my note to your +master, Rimmer?" + +"Yes, ma'am," replied the butler. "My master bade me say to you that his +answer was _not to-night_." + +Katherine Monk, her face betraying some agitation, rose from the piano. +"Was the message not given to Mr. Dancox?" she asked of Rimmer. + +"Not while I was there, Miss Katherine. The master tore the note into +bits, after reading it; and dropped them under the table." + +Now it chanced that Mr. Dancox, glancing covertly at the note while the +Captain held it to the light, had read what was written there. For a few +minutes he said nothing. The Captain was busy sending round the wine. + +"Captain Monk--pardon me--I saw my name on that bit of paper; it caught +my eye as you held it out," he said in a low tone. "Am I called out? Is +anyone in the parish dying?" + +Thus questioned, Captain Monk told the truth. No one was dying, and he +was not called out to the parish. Some gentleman was asking to speak to +him; only that. + +"Well, I'll just see who it is, and what he wants," said Mr. Dancox, +rising. "Won't be away two minutes, sir." + +"Bring him back with you; tell him he'll find good wine here and jolly +cheer," said the Captain. And Mr. Dancox went out, swinging his +table-napkin in his hand. + +In crossing the hall he met Katherine, exchanged a hasty word with her, +let fall the serviette on a chair as he caught up his hat and overcoat, +and went out. Katherine ran upstairs. + +Hubert lay down on one of the drawing-room sofas. In point of fact, that +young gentleman could not walk straight. A little wine takes effect on +youngsters, especially when they are not accustomed to it. Mrs. +Carradyne told Hubert the best place for him was bed. Not a bit of it, +the boy answered: he should go out on the terrace at twelve o'clock; the +chimes would be fine, heard out there. He fell asleep almost as he +spoke; presently he woke up, feeling headachy, cross and stupid, and of +his own accord went up to bed. + +Meanwhile, the dining-room was getting jollier and louder as the time +passed on towards midnight. Great wonder was expressed at the non-return +of the parson; somebody must be undoubtedly grievously sick or dying. +Mr. Speck, the quiet little Hurst Leet doctor, dissented from this. +Nobody was dying in the parish, he affirmed, or sick enough to need a +priest; as a proof of it, _he_ had not been sent for. + +Ring, ring, ring! broke forth the chimes on the quiet midnight air, as +the church clock finished striking twelve. It was a sweet sound; even +those prejudiced against the chimes could hear that: the windows had +been opened in readiness. + +The glasses were charged; the company stood on their legs, some of them +not at all steady legs just then, bending their ears to listen. Captain +Monk stood in his place, majestically waving his head and his left hand +to keep time in harmony with the Bay of Biscay. His right hand held his +goblet in readiness for the toast when the sounds should cease. + +Ring, ring, ring! chimed the last strokes of the bells, dying away to +faintness on the still evening air. Suddenly, amidst the hushed silence, +and whilst the sweet melody fell yet unbroken on the room, there arose a +noise as of something falling outside on the terrace, mingled with a +wild scream and the crash of breaking glass. + +One of the guests rushed to the window, and put his head out of it. So +far as he could see, he said (perhaps his sight was somewhat obscured), +it was a looking-glass lying further up on the terrace. + +Thrown out from one of the upper windows! scornfully pronounced the +Captain, full of wrath that it should have happened at that critical +moment to mar the dignity of his coming toast. And he gave the toast +heartily; and the new year came in for them all with good wishes and +good wine. + +Some little time yet ere the company finally rose. The mahogany frame of +the broken looking-glass, standing on end, was conspicuous on the white +ground in the clear frosty night, as they streamed out from the house. +Mr. Speck, whose sight was rather remarkably good, peered at it +curiously from the hall steps, and then walked quickly along the snowy +terrace towards it. + +Sure enough, it was a looking-glass, broken in its fall from an open +window above. But, lying by it in the deep snow, in his white +nightshirt, was Hubert Monk. + +When the chimes began to play, Hubert was not asleep. Sitting up in bed, +he disposed himself to listen. After a bit they began to grow fainter; +Hubert impatiently dashed to the window and threw it up to its full +height as he jumped on the dressing-table, when in some unfortunate way +he overbalanced himself, and pitched out on the terrace beneath, +carrying the looking-glass with him. The fall was not much, for his room +was in one of the wings, the windows of which were low; but the boy had +struck his head in falling, and there he had lain, insensible, on the +terrace, one hand still clasping the looking-glass. + +All the rosy wine-tint fading away to a sickly paleness on the Captain's +face, he looked down on his well-beloved son. The boy was carried +indoors to his room, reviving with the movement. + +"Young bones are elastic," pronounced Mr. Speck, when he had examined +him; "and none of these are broken. He will probably have a cold from +the exposure; that's about the worst." + +He seemed to have it already: he was shivering from head to foot now, as +he related the above particulars. All the family had assembled round +him, except Katherine. + +"Where is Katherine?" suddenly inquired her father, noticing her +absence. + +"I cannot think where she is," said Mrs. Carradyne. "I have not seen her +for an hour or two. Eliza says she is not in her room; I sent her to +see. She is somewhere about, of course." + +"Go and look for your sister, Eliza. Tell her to come here," said +Captain Monk. But though Eliza went at once, her quest was useless. + +Miss Katherine was not in the house: Miss Katherine had made a moonlight +flitting from it that evening with the Reverend Thomas Dancox. + +You will hear more in the next paper. + +JOHNNY LUDLOW. + + + + +A SONG. + + + Blue eyes that laugh at early morn + May weep ere close of day; + And weeping is a thing of scorn + To those whose hearts are gay. + Ah, simple souls, beware, beware! + Time's finger changeth smile to care! + + Gold locks that glitter as the sun + May sudden fade to grey; + And who shall favour anyone + Despoiled of bright array? + Ah, simple souls, beware of loss, + Time's finger changeth gold to dross! + + Good lack! we talk, yet all the same + We throw our words away! + The smiles, the gold, the tears, the shame, + Each tries them in his day. + And Time, with vengeful finger, makes + Of fondest goods our chief mistakes! + +G.B. STUART. + + + + +MISS KATE MARSDEN. + + +In this practical age we are inclined to estimate people by the worth of +what they do, and thus it happens that Miss Kate Marsden and her mission +are creating an interest and genuine admiration in the hearts of the +people such as few individuals or circumstances have power to call +forth. + +The work she has set herself to do, regardless of the dangers and +difficulties she will have to encounter, seems to us, who look out from +the security of our homes in this favoured land, almost beyond human +power to perform. It is, in fact, appalling. + +Even Miss Nightingale, who never exaggerates, writes of this lady: +"Surely no human being ever needed the loving Father's help and guidance +more than this brave woman." And in this the readers of THE +ARGOSY will fully agree. + +Her purpose is to travel through Russia to the extreme points of +Siberia, chiefly for the purpose of seeing the condition of those +affected with incurable disease, and what can be done to improve their +surroundings and mitigate their sufferings. + +This, if it stood alone, would be a grand work; but it is by no means +all she hopes to do. + +It is her purpose to join the gangs of exiles on their way to Siberia, +to note their treatment, to halt at their halting-stages, and see if it +be true that there is an utter absence of all sanitary appliances; that +filth and cruelty are in evidence; and that the strongest constitutions +break down under conditions unfit for brute beasts. She will investigate +the assertions that delicate innocent women and children are chained to +vile criminals, and so made to take their way on foot thousands of miles +to far-off Siberia; often for no other crime than some careless words +spoken against the Greek Church or the Czar. + +She hopes fully to inspect the prisons and mines in those far-off +regions, described by the Russians themselves as "living tombs." She +will, if possible, go into the cells of the condemned exiles, whose +walls are bare, except for their living covering of myriads of insects; +and, lastly, she intends to visit the Jews' quarters, and satisfy our +minds as to the existence of the terrible cruelties inflicted upon this +persecuted race, the hearing of which alone is heart-breaking. + +And all through her perilous journeys we may be sure she will lose no +opportunity of comforting and helping the suffering ones who come under +her notice, no matter what their race or condition. + +This line of conduct will have its dangers; but she holds not her life +dear unto her, so that she may accomplish her heart's desire. The +practical result looked forward to by her is, that, having gained an +intimate knowledge of the sufferings and cruelties inflicted upon so +many thousands of Russian subjects, and of which there have been such +conflicting accounts, she may be admitted a second time into the +presence of the Empress, there to place the actual scenes before her, +and to plead the cause of the sufferers personally. + +Strange to say, she is convinced in her own mind that the Emperor and +Empress of Russia are ignorant of a great deal that is done in their +name; or, as the phrase is, "By order of the Czar;" and that they know +little of the results of those Edicts and Ukase which are causing such +dire misery to thousands of their subjects, not only to the +long-suffering Jews but also to Christian women and children; and it is +her belief that if the truth could be placed before them, as she hopes +to place it, they will attack the evil even at the cost of life or +crown. + +This is quite a different view from that which obtains generally; and if +Miss Kate Marsden should be able to prove her point, and bring before +them the pictures of what she may see on her journey to and from +Siberia, she will score a result such as has fallen to no one's +endeavour hitherto. + +It is only now and then in a lifetime that we meet a woman capable of +such a grand work as this which Miss Kate Marsden has taken upon +herself; and the reason is that the qualifications necessary are so +rarely found in combination in one and the same individual. Many among +us may have one or other of the characteristics, but it is the existence +of them all in one person that makes the heroine and gives the power. + +You cannot be an hour in Miss Kate Marsden's company without becoming +aware of her enthusiasm, her courage, her self-devotion, her +fearlessness, and above all her simple child-like faith. It avails +nothing that you place before her the trials, the horrors, the dangers, +the possible failure of such an undertaking as hers. The necessity of +the work to be done she considers imperative, and the certainty in her +mind that it is her mission to do it carries all before it. + +The bravest among us would hesitate before deciding upon a tour in +Russia and Siberia, supposing it were one of pleasure or of scientific +research, because even under these favourable conditions we should be +subject to ignominious surveillance night and day, and the chances of +leaving the country when we pleased would be very small; but what can we +say of a young and delicate woman who, voluntarily and without thought +of self, deliberately walks into the country where deeds are done daily +which make us shrink with fear, and which, for very shame for the +century in which we live, we try hard not to believe? It is as if with +eyes open she walked into a den of lions and expected them to give her a +loving welcome and a free egress. + +Heaven help her, for she is in the midst of it and has begun her work; +the result of her fearlessness remains to be seen. I doubt greatly +whether we shall be allowed to receive reports of her daily life out +there, even where postal regulations are in force. We can but follow +her on her way from Moscow to Tomsk in thought, and picture to ourselves +the thousands of exiles she will find waiting there herded together like +brute beasts. She will not turn from them, even though typhoid be raging +amongst them--one can see her moving in and out among these miserable, +debased human beings, who lie tossing on those terrible wooden shelves, +helping them according to their needs; for she carries with her remedies +for pain and disease of body, and her simple faith will find means of +comforting heart and soul. + +If any of those twenty thousand exiles who have this year trod the weary +way between Petersburg and Tomsk, and on again to the far-off districts +of Siberia, should hear of the coming of this gentle woman, strong only +in her love for them, I think it would kindle a spark of hope again in +their hearts. They would know that at least they were remembered by +someone in the land of the living. + +Miss Kate Marsden has dared so much for these poor suffering ones that +she will not easily be turned aside by excessive politeness or brutality +on the part of officials from seeing the actual state of things. She +will not, I think, be content with viewing the Provincial Prison at +Tomsk, which is light and airy and occupied by local offenders, instead +of the _forwarding_ prison which, according to the accounts that reach +us, is a disgrace to the civilized world, and where the exiles are +lodged while waiting to be "forwarded." + +I pity Miss Kate Marsden if it should ever be her lot to witness the +knout used to a woman without the power of stopping it, or retaliating +upon the brute who is inflicting it. It would be almost the death of +her. + +If we have been successful in interesting the readers of THE +ARGOSY in this lady and her mission, they will like to know that +she is not a wilful person starting off on a wild-goose chase on a +generous impulse without at all counting the cost. On the contrary, the +work she is now doing has been the desire of her life, and all the +training and discipline to which she has subjected herself has been for +the purpose of fitting her for it. + +From her earliest childhood she has been an indefatigable worker among +the sick and wounded, with whom she has ever had the most intense +sympathy, and consequently an extraordinary power to soothe and comfort. + +Young as she was at the time of the Turko-Russian war, she did good +service on the battle-fields and worked untiringly among every kind of +depressing surrounding. The beautiful cross upon her breast is a gift +from the Empress of Russia, as a recognition of the good work she did +among the wounded soldiers at that time. From that day to this, whether +in England or in New Zealand, her work has been steadily going on, ever +gaining information and experience, and at the same time doing an amount +of good difficult to calculate. + +For one whole year she became, what I call for want of a better name, +an itinerant teacher of ambulance work, in places out of reach of +doctors in New Zealand. She taught the people how to deal with accidents +caused by the falling of trees, cuts with the axe, or kicks from vicious +horses, all of which are of frequent occurrence in the Bush. Again, she +taught the miners how to make use of surrounding materials in case of an +injury: how to bandage, and how to make a stretcher for moving a wounded +person from one place to another with such things as were handy, viz., +with two poles and a man's coat, the poles to be placed through the arms +and the coat itself to be buttoned securely over the poles. Another +thing she taught in these out-of-the-way places was how to deal with +burns and foreign matter in the eye or ear--also accidents of frequent +occurrence. + +Many interesting and exciting scenes could be related of this part of +her life, but I hesitate to do more than show her training and fitness +for the work she is now doing. + +It is a work we all want done, and would gladly take part in had we the +qualifications for it. It is a work which, if well and honestly done, +will deserve the best thanks of England and of the whole civilized +world. She may not live to tell us, but her life will not have been +lived in vain if she prove successful in getting at the truth of what is +done _By order of the Czar_, and presenting it to the Czar himself. + +We cannot travel with her bodily; we cannot hunger or perish with cold +in her company; we cannot fight with dogs and wolves as she must do; we +cannot, with her, go into the dens of immorality and fever; but we can +determine upon some way of helping her, and I think we shall only be too +thankful to join her friends who by giving of their means are +participating in so grand a mission. + + + + +THE FATE OF THE HARA DIAMOND. + +A Story Re-told. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +MY ARRIVAL AT DEEPLEY WALLS. + + +"Miss Janet Hope, + To the care of Lady Chillington, + Deepley Walls, near Eastbury, + Midlandshire." + +"There, miss, I'm sure that will do famously," said Chirper, the +overworked, oldish young person whose duty it was to attend to the +innumerable wants of the young lady boarders of Park Hill Seminary. She +had just written out, in a large sprawling hand, a card as above which +card was presently to be nailed on to the one small box that held the +whole of my worldly belongings. + +"And I think, miss," added Chirper, meditatively, as she held out the +card at arm's length, and gazed at it admiringly, "that if I was to +write out another card similar, and tie it round your arm, it would, +mayhap, help you in getting safe to your journey's end." + +I, a girl of twelve, was the Janet Hope indicated above, and I had been +looking over Chirper's shoulder with wondering eyes while she addressed +the card. + +"But who is Lady Chillington, and where is Deepley Walls, and what have +I to do with either, Chirper, please?" I asked. + +"If there is one thing in little girls more hateful than another, it is +curiosity," answered Chirper, with her mouth half-full of nails. +"Curiosity has been the bane of many of our sex. Witness Bluebeard's +unhappy wife. If you want to know more, you must ask Mrs. Whitehead. I +have my instructions and I act on them." + +Meeting Mrs. Whitehead half-an-hour later, as she was coming down the +stone corridor that led from the refectory, I did ask that lady +precisely the same questions that I had put to Chirper. Her frosty +glance, filled with a cold surprise, smote me even through her +spectacles; and I shrank a little, abashed at my own boldness. + +"The habit of asking questions elsewhere than in the class-room should +not be encouraged in young ladies," said Mrs. Whitehead, with a sort of +prim severity. "The other young ladies are gone home; you are about to +follow their example." + +"But, Mrs. Whitehead--madam," I pleaded, "I never had any other home +than Park Hill." + +"More questioning, Miss Hope? Fie! Fie!" + +And with a lean finger uplifted in menacing reproval, Mrs. Whitehead +sailed on her way, nor deigned me another word. + +I stole out into the playground, wondering, wretched, and yet smitten +through with faint delicious thrillings of a new-found happiness such as +I had often dreamed of, but had scarcely dared hope ever to realise. I, +Janet Hope, going home! It was almost too incredible for belief. I +wandered about like one mazed--like one who, stepping suddenly out of +darkness into sunshine, is dazzled by an intolerable brightness +whichever way he turns his eyes. And yet I was wretched: for was not +Miss Chinfeather dead? And that, too, was a fact almost too incredible +for belief. + +As I wandered, this autumn morning, up and down the solitary playground, +I went back in memory as far as memory would carry me, but only to find +that Miss Chinfeather and Park Hill Seminary blocked up the way. Beyond +them lay darkness and mystery. Any events in my child's life that might +have happened before my arrival at Park Hill had for me no authentic +existence. I had been part and parcel of Miss Chinfeather and the +Seminary for so long a time that I could not dissociate myself from them +even in thought. Other pupils had had holidays, and letters, and +presents, and dear ones at home of whom they often talked; but for me +there had been none of these things. I knew that I had been placed at +Park Hill when a very little girl by some, to me, mysterious and unknown +person, but further than that I knew nothing. The mistress of Park Hill +had not treated me in any way differently from her other pupils; but had +not the bills contracted on my account been punctually paid by somebody, +I am afraid that the even-handed justice on which she prided +herself--which, in conjunction with her aquiline nose and a certain +antique severity of deportment, caused her to be known amongst us girls +as _The Roman Matron_--would have been somewhat ruffled, and that +sentence of expulsion from those classic walls would have been promptly +pronounced and as promptly carried into effect. + +Happily no such necessity had ever arisen; and now the Roman Matron lay +dead in the little corner room on the second floor, and had done with +pupils, and half yearly accounts, and antique deportment for ever. + +In losing Miss Chinfeather I felt as though the corner-stone of my life +had been rent away. She was too cold, she was altogether too far removed +for me to regard her with love, or even with that modified feeling which +we call affection. But then no such demonstration was looked for by Miss +Chinfeather. It was a weakness above which she rose superior. But if my +child's love was a gift which she would have despised, she looked for +and claimed my obedience--the resignation of my will to hers, the +absorption of my individuality in her own, the gradual elimination from +my life of all its colour and freshness. She strove earnestly, and with +infinite patience, to change me from a dreamy, passionate child--a child +full of strange wild moods, capricious, and yet easily touched either +to laughter or tears--into a prim and elegant young lady, colourless and +formal, and of the most orthodox boarding-school pattern; and if she did +not quite succeed in the attempt, the fault, such as it was, must be set +down to my obstinate disposition and not to any lack of effort on the +part of Miss Chinfeather. And now this powerful influence had vanished +from my life, from the world itself, as swiftly and silently as a +snowflake in the sun. The grasp of the hard but not unkindly hand, that +had held me so firmly in the narrow groove in which it wished me to +move, had been suddenly relaxed, and everything around me seemed +tottering to its fall. Three nights ago Miss Chinfeather had retired to +rest, as well, to all appearance, and as cheerful as ever she had been; +next morning she had been found dead in bed. This was what they told us +pupils; but so great was the awe in which I held the mistress of Park +Hill Seminary that I could not conceive of Death even as venturing to +behave disrespectfully towards her. I pictured him in my girlish fancy +as knocking at her chamber door in the middle of the night, and after +apologising for the interruption, asking whether she was ready to +accompany him. Then would she who was thus addressed arise, and wrap an +ample robe about her, and place her hand with solemn sweetness in that +of the Great Captain, and the two would pass out together into the +starlit night, and Miss Chinfeather would be seen of mortal eyes +nevermore. + +Such was the picture that had haunted my brain for two days and as many +nights, while I wandered forlorn through house and playground, or lay +awake on my little bed. I had said farewell to one pupil after another +till all were gone, and the riddle which I had been putting to myself +continually for the last forty-eight hours had now been solved for me by +Mrs. Whitehead, and I had been told that I too was going home. + +"To the care of Lady Chillington, Deepley Walls, Midlandshire." The +words repeated themselves again and again in my brain, and became a +greater puzzle with every repetition. I had never to my knowledge heard +of either the person or the place. I knew nothing of one or the other. I +only knew that my heart thrilled strangely at the mention of the word +_Home_; that unbidden tears started to my eyes at the thought that +perhaps--only perhaps--in that as yet unknown place there might be +someone who would love me just a little. "Father--Mother." I spoke the +words, but they sounded unreal to me, and as if uttered by another. I +spoke them again, holding out my arms and crying aloud. All my heart +seemed to go out in the cry, but only the hollow winds answered me as +they piped mournfully through the yellowing leaves, a throng of which +went rustling down the walk as though stirred by the footsteps of a +ghost. Then my eyes grew blind with tears and I wept silently for a time +as if my heart would break. + +But tears were a forbidden luxury at Park Hill, and when, a little later +on, I heard Chirper calling me by name, I made haste to dry my eyes and +compose my features. She scanned me narrowly as I ran up to her. "You +dear, soft-hearted little thing!" she said. And with that she stooped +suddenly and gave me a hearty kiss, that might have been heard a dozen +yards away. I was about to fling my arms round her neck, but she stopped +me, saying, "That will do, dear. Mrs. Whitehead is waiting for us at the +door." + +Mrs. Whitehead was watching us through the glass door which led into the +playground. "The coach will be here in half-an-hour, Miss Hope," she +said; "so that you have not much time for your preparations." + +I stood like one stunned for a moment or two. Then I said: "If you +please, Mrs. Whitehead, may I see Miss Chinfeather before I go?" + +Her thin, straight lips quivered slightly, but in her eyes I read only +cold disapproval of my request. "Really," she said, "what a singular +child you must be. I scarcely know what to say." + +"Oh, if you please!" I urged. "Miss Chinfeather was always kind to me. I +remember her as long as I can remember anything. To see her once +more--for the last time. It would seem to me cruel to go away without." + +"Follow me," she said, almost in a whisper. So I followed her softly up +stairs into the little corner room where Miss Chinfeather lay in white +and solemn state, grandly indifferent to all mundane matters. As I +gazed, it seemed but an hour ago since I had heard those still lips +conjugating the verb mourir for the behoof of poor ignorant me, and the +words came back to me, and I could not help repeating them to myself as +I looked: Je meurs, tu meurs, etc. + +I bent over and kissed the marble-cold forehead and said farewell in my +heart, and went downstairs without a word. + +Half-an-hour later the district coach, a splendid vision, pulled up +impetuously at the gates. I was ready to the moment. Mrs. Whitehead's +frosty fingers touched mine for an instant; she imprinted a chill kiss +on my cheek and looked relieved. "Good-bye, my dear Miss Hope, and God +bless you," she said. "Strive to bear in mind through after life the +lessons that have been instilled into you at Park Hill Seminary. Present +my respectful compliments to Lady Chillington, and do not forget your +catechism." + +At this point the guard sounded an impatient summons on his bugle; +Chirper picked up my box, seized me by the hand, and hurried with me to +the coach. My luggage found a place on the roof; I was unceremoniously +bundled inside; Chirper gave me another of her hearty kisses, and +pressed a crooked sixpence into my hand "for luck," as she whispered. I +am sure there was a real tear in her eye as she did so. Next moment we +were off. + +I kept my eyes fixed on the Seminary as long as it remained in view, +especially on the little corner room. It seemed to me that I must be a +very wicked girl indeed, because I felt no real sorrow at quitting the +place that had been my home for so many years. I could not feel anything +but secretly glad, but furtively happy with a happiness which I felt +ashamed of acknowledging even to myself. Miss Chinfeather's white and +solemn face, as seen in her coffin, haunted my memory, but even of her I +thought only with a sort of chastened regret. She had never touched my +heart. There had been about her a bleakness of nature that effectually +chilled any tender buds of liking or affection that might in the +ordinary course of events have grown up and blossomed round her life. +Therefore, in my child's heart there was no lasting sorrow for her +death, no gracious memories of her that would stay with me, and smell +sweet, long after she herself should be dust. + +My eight miles' ride by coach was soon over. It ended at the railway +station of the county town. The guard of the coach had, I suppose, +received his secret instructions. Almost before I knew what had +happened, I found myself in a first-class carriage, with a ticket for +Eastbury in my hand, and committed to the care of another guard, he of +the railway this time--a fiery-faced man, with immense red whiskers, who +came and surveyed me as though I were some contraband article, but +finished by nodding his head and saying with a smile, "I dessay we shall +be good friends, miss, before we get to the end of our journey." + +It was my first journey by rail, and the novelty of it filled me with +wonder and delight. The train by which I travelled was a fast one, and +after my first feeling of fright at the rapidity of the motion had +merged into one of intense pleasure and exhilaration of mind, I could +afford to look back on my recent coach experience with a sort of pitying +superiority, as on a something that was altogether _rococo_ and out of +date. Already the rash of new ideas into my mind was so powerful that +the old landmarks of my life seemed in danger of being swept clean away. +Already it seemed days instead of only a brief hour or two since I had +bidden Mrs. Whitehead farewell, and had taken my last look at Park Hill +Seminary. + +The red-faced guard was as good as his word; he and I became famous +friends before I reached the end of my journey. At every station at +which we stopped he came to the window to see how I was getting on, and +whether I was in want of anything, and was altogether so kind to me that +I was quite sorry to part from him when the train reached Eastbury, and +left me, a minute later, standing, a solitary waif, on the little +platform. + +The one solitary fly of which the station could boast was laid under +contribution. My little box was tossed on to its roof; I myself was shut +up inside; the word was given, "To Deepley Walls;" the station was left +behind, and away we went, jolting and rumbling along the quiet country +lanes, and under over-arching trees, all aglow just now with autumn's +swift-fading beauty. The afternoon was closing in, and the wind was +rising, sweeping up with melancholy soughs from the dim wooded hollows +where it had lain asleep till the sun went down; garnering up the fallen +leaves like a cunning miser, wherever it could find a hiding-place for +them, and then dying suddenly down, and seeming to hold its breath as if +listening for the footsteps of the coming winter. + +In the western sky hung a huge tumbled wrack of molten cloud like the +ruins of some vast temple of the gods of eld. Chasmed buttresses, +battlements overthrown; on the horizon a press of giants, shoulder +against shoulder, climbing slowly to the rescue; in mid-sky a praying +woman; farther afield a huge head, and a severed arm the fingers of +which were clenched in menace: all these things I saw, and a score +others, as the clouds changed from minute to minute in form and +brightness, while the stars began to glow out like clusters of silver +lilies in the eastern sky. + +We kept jolting on for so long a time through the twilight lanes, and +the evening darkened so rapidly, that I began to grow frightened. It was +like being lifted out of a dungeon, when the old fly drew up with a +jerk, and a shout of "House there!" and when I looked out and saw that +we were close to the lodge entrance of some park. + +Presently a woman, with a child in her arms, came out of the lodge and +proceeded to open the gate for us. Said the driver--"How's Johnny +to-night?" + +The woman shouted something in reply, but I don't think the old fellow +heard her. + +"Ay, ay," he called out, "Johnny will be a famous young shaver one of +these days;" and with that, he whipped up his horse, and away we went. + +The drive up the avenue, for such at the time I judged it to be, and +such it proved to be, did not occupy many minutes. The fly came to a +stand, and the driver got down and opened the door. "Now, young lady, +here you are," he said; and I found myself in front of the main entrance +to Deepley Walls. + +It was too dark by this time for me to discern more than the merest +outline of the place. I saw that it was very large, and I noticed that +not even one of its hundred windows showed the least glimmer of light. +It loomed vast, dark and silent, as if deserted by every living thing. + +The old driver gave a hearty pull at the bell, and the muffled clamour +reached me where I stood. I was quaking with fears and apprehensions of +that unknown future on whose threshold I was standing. Would Love or +Hate open for me the doors of Deepley Walls? I was strung to such a +pitch that it seemed impossible for any lesser passion to be handmaiden +to my needs. + +What I saw when the massive door was opened was an aged woman, dressed +like a superior domestic, who, in sharp accents, demanded to know what +we meant by disturbing a quiet family in that unseemly way. She was +holding one hand over her eyes, and trying to make out our appearance +through the gathering darkness. I stepped close up to her. "I am Miss +Janet Hope, from Park Hill Seminary," I said, "and I wish to speak with +Lady Chillington." + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE MISTRESS OF DEEPLEY WALLS. + + +The words were hardly out of my lips when the woman shrank suddenly +back, as though struck by an invisible hand, and gave utterance to an +inarticulate cry of wonder and alarm. Then, striding forward, she seized +me by the wrist, and drew me into the lamp-lighted hall. "Child! child! +why have you come here?" she cried, scanning my face with eager eyes. +"In all the wide world this is the last place you should have come to." + +"Miss Chinfeather is dead, and all the young ladies have been sent to +their homes. I have no home, so they have sent me here." + +"What shall I do? What will her ladyship say?" cried the woman, in a +frightened voice. "How shall I ever dare to tell her?" + +"Who rang the bell, Dance, a few minutes ago? And to whom are you +talking?" + +The voice sounded so suddenly out of the semi-darkness at the upper end +of the large hall, which was lighted only by a small oil lamp, that both +the woman and I started. Looking in the direction from which the sound +had come, I could dimly make out, through the obscurity, the figures of +two women who had entered without noise through the curtained doorway, +close to which they were now standing. One of the two was very tall, and +was dressed entirely in black. The second one, who was less tall, was +also dressed in black, except that she seemed to have something white +thrown over her head and shoulders; but I was too far away to make out +any details. + +"Hush! don't you speak," whispered the woman warningly to me. "Leave me +to break the news to her ladyship." With that, she left me standing on +the threshold, and hurried towards the upper end of the hall. + +The tall personage in black, then, with the harsh voice--high pitched, +and slightly cracked--was Lady Chillington! How fast my heart beat! If +only I could have slipped out unobserved I would never have braved my +fortune within those walls again. + +She who had been called Dance went up to the two ladies, curtsied +deeply, and began talking in a low, earnest voice. Hardly, however, had +she spoken a dozen words when the lesser of the two ladies flung up her +arms with a cry like that of some wounded creature, and would have +fallen to the ground had not Dance caught her round the waist and so +held her. + +"What folly is this?" cried Lady Chillington, sternly, striking the +pavement of the hall sharply with the iron ferrule of her cane. "To your +room, Sister Agnes! For such poor weak fools as you solitude is the only +safe companion. But, remember your oath! Not a word; not a word." With +one lean hand uplifted, and menacing forefinger, she emphasised those +last warning words. + +She who had been addressed as Sister Agnes raised herself, with a deep +sigh, from the shoulder of Dance, cast one long look in the direction of +the spot where I was standing, and vanished slowly through the curtained +arch. Then Dance took up the broken thread of her narration, and Lady +Chillington, grim and motionless, listened without a word. + +Even after Dance had done speaking, her ladyship stood for some time +looking straight before her, but saying nothing in reply. I felt +intuitively that my fate was hanging on the decision of those few +moments, but I neither stirred nor spoke. + +At length the silence was broken by Lady Chillington. "Take the child +away," she said; "attend to her wants, make her presentable, and bring +her to me in the Green Saloon after dinner. It will be time enough +to-morrow to consider what must be done with her." + +Dance curtsied again. Her ladyship sailed slowly across the hall, and +passed out through another curtained doorway. + +Dance's first act was to pay and dismiss the driver, who had been +waiting outside all this time. Then, taking me by the hand, "Come along +with me, dear," she said. "Why, I declare, you look quite white and +frightened! You have nothing to fear, child. We shall not eat you--at +least, not just yet; not till we have fed you up a bit." + +At the end of a long corridor was Mrs. Dance's own room, into which I +was now ushered. Scarcely had I made a few changes in my toilette when +tea for two persons was brought in, and Mrs. Dance and I sat down to +table. The old lady was well on with her second cup before she made any +remark other than was required by the necessities of the occasion. + +I have called her an old woman, and such she looked in my youthful eyes, +although her years were only about sixty. She wore a dark brown dress +and a black silk apron, and had on a cap with thick frilled borders, +under which her grey hair was neatly snooded away. She looked ruddy and +full of health. A shrewd, sensible woman, evidently; yet with a motherly +kindness about her that made me cling to her with a child's unerring +instinct. + +"You look tired, poor thing," she said, as she leisurely stirred her +tea; "and well you may, considering the long journey you have had +to-day. I don't suppose that her ladyship will keep you more than ten +minutes in the Green Saloon, and after that you can go to bed as soon +as you like. What a surprise for all of us your coming has been! Dear, +dear! who would have expected such a thing this morning? But I knew by +the twitching of my corns that something uncommon was going to happen. I +was really frightened of telling her ladyship that you were here. +There's no knowing how she might have taken it; and there's no knowing +what she will decide to do with you to-morrow." + +"But what has Lady Chillington to do with me in any way?" I asked. +"Before this morning I never even heard her name; and now it seems that +she is to do what she likes with me." + +"That she will do what she likes with you, you may depend, dear," said +Mrs. Dance. "As to how she happens to have the right so to do, that is +another thing, and one about which it is not my place to talk nor yours +to question me. That she possesses such a right you may make yourself +certain. All that you have to do is to obey and to ask no questions." + +I sat in distressed and bewildered silence for a little while. Then I +ventured to say: "Please not to think me rude, but I should like to know +who Sister Agnes is." + +Mrs. Dance stirred uneasily in her chair and bent her eyes on the fire, +but did not immediately answer my question. + +"Sister Agnes is Lady Chillington's companion," she said at last. "She +reads to her, and writes her letters, and talks to her, and all that, +you know. Sister Agnes is a Roman Catholic, and came here from the +convent of Saint Ursula. However, she is not a nun, but something like +one of those Sisters of Mercy in the large towns, who go about among +poor people and visit the hospitals and prisons. She is allowed to live +here always, and Lady Chillington would hardly know how to get through +the day without her." + +"Is she not a relative of Lady Chillington?" I asked. + +"No, not a relative," answered Dance. "You must try to love her a great +deal, my dear Miss Janet; for if angels are ever allowed to visit this +vile earth, Sister Agnes is one of them. But there goes her ladyship's +bell. She is ready to receive you." + +I had washed away the stains of travel, and had put on my best frock, +and Dance was pleased to say that I looked very nice, "though, perhaps, +a trifle more old-fashioned than a girl of your age ought to look." Then +she laid down a few rules for my guidance when in the presence of Lady +Chillington, and led the way to the Green Saloon, I following with a +timorous heart. + +Dance flung open the folding-doors of the big room. "Miss Janet Hope to +see your ladyship," she called out; and next moment the doors closed +behind me, and I was left standing there alone. + +"Come nearer--come nearer," said her ladyship's cracked voice, as with a +long, lean hand she beckoned me to approach. + +I advanced slowly up the room, stopped and curtsied. Lady Chillington +pointed out a high footstool about three yards from her chair. I +curtsied again, and sat down on it. During the interview that followed +my quick eyes had ample opportunity for taking a mental inventory of +Lady Chillington and her surroundings. + +She had exchanged the black dress in which I first saw her for one of +green velvet, trimmed with ermine. This dress was made with short +sleeves and low body, so as to leave exposed her ladyship's arms, long, +lean and skinny, and her scraggy neck. Her nose was hooked and her chin +pointed. Between the two shone a row of large white, even teeth, which +long afterwards I knew to be artificial. Equally artificial was the mass +of short black, frizzly curls that crowned her head, which was +unburdened with cap or covering of any kind. Her eyebrows were dyed to +match her hair. Her cheeks, even through the powder with which they were +thickly smeared, showed two spots of brilliant red, which no one less +ignorant than I would have accepted without question as the last genuine +remains of the bloom of youth. But at that first interview I accepted +everything au pied de la lettre, without doubt or question of any kind. + +Her ladyship wore long earrings of filigree gold. Round her neck was a +massive gold chain. On her fingers sparkled several rings of +price--diamonds, rubies and opals. In figure her ladyship was tall, and +upright as a dart. She was, however, slightly lame of one foot, which +necessitated the use of a cane when walking. Lady Chillington's cane was +ivory-headed, and had a gold plate let into it, on which was engraved +her crest and initials. She was seated in an elaborately-carved +high-backed chair, near a table on which were the remains of a dessert +for one person. + +The Green Saloon was a large gloomy room; at least it looked gloomy as I +saw it for the first time, lighted up by four wax candles where twenty +were needed. These four candles being placed close by where Lady +Chillington was sitting, left the other end of the saloon in comparative +darkness. The furniture was heavy, formal and old-fashioned. Gloomy +portraits of dead and gone Chillingtons lined the green walls, and this +might be the reason why there always seemed to me a slight graveyard +flavour--scarcely perceptible, but none the less surely there--about +this room which caused me to shudder involuntarily whenever I crossed +its threshold. + +Lady Chillington's black eyes--large, cold and steady as Juno's own--had +been bent upon me all this time, measuring me from head to foot with +what I felt to be a slightly contemptuous scrutiny. + +"What is your name, and how old are you?" she asked, with startling +abruptness, after a minute or two of silence. + +"Janet Hope, and twelve years," I answered, laconically. A feeling of +defiance, of dislike to this bedizened old woman began to gnaw my +child's heart. Young as I was, I had learned, with what bitterness I +alone could have told, the art of wrapping myself round with a husk of +cold reserve, which no one uninitiated in the ways of children could +penetrate, unless I were inclined to let them. Sulkiness was the +generic name for this quality at school, but I dignified it with a +different term. + +"How many years were you at Park Hill Seminary? and where did you live +before you went there?" asked Lady Chillington. + +"I have lived at Park Hill ever since I can remember anything. I don't +know where I lived before that time." + +"Are your parents alive or dead? If the latter, what do you remember of +them?" + +A lump came into my throat, and tears into my eyes. For a moment or two +I could not answer. + +"I don't know anything about my parents," I said. "I never remember +seeing them. I don't know whether they are alive or dead." + +"Do you know why you were consigned by the Park Hill people to this +particular house--to Deepley Walls--to me, in fact?" + +Her voice was raised almost to a shriek as she said these last words, +and she pointed to herself with one claw-like finger. + +"No, ma'am, I don't know why I was sent here. I was told to come, and I +came." + +"But you have no claim on me--none whatever," she continued, fiercely. +"Bear that in mind: remember it always. Whatever I may choose to do for +you will be done of my own free will, and not through compulsion of any +kind. No claim whatever; remember that. None whatever." + +She was silent for some time after this, and sat with her cold, steady +eyes fixed intently on the fire. For my part, I sat as still as a mouse, +afraid to stir, longing for my dismissal, and dreading to be questioned +further. + +Lady Chillington roused herself at length with a deep sigh, and a few +words muttered under her breath. + +"Here is a bunch of grapes for you, child," she said. "When you have +eaten them it will be time for you to retire." + +I advanced timidly and took the grapes, with a curtsey and a "Thank you, +ma'am," and then went back to my seat. + +As I sat eating my grapes my eyes went up to an oval mirror over the +fire-place, in which were reflected the figures of Lady Chillington and +myself. My momentary glance into its depths showed me how keenly, but +furtively, her ladyship was watching me. But what interest could a great +lady have in watching poor insignificant me? I ventured another glance +into the mirror. Yes, she looked as if she were devouring me with her +eyes. But hothouse grapes are nicer than mysteries, and how is it +possible to give one's serious attention to two things at a time? + +When I had finished the grapes, I put my plate back on the table. + +"Ring that bell," said Lady Chillington. I rang it accordingly, and +presently Dance made her appearance. + +"Miss Hope is ready to retire," said her ladyship. + +I arose, and going a step or two nearer to her, I made her my most +elaborate curtsey, and said, "I wish your ladyship a very good-night." + +The ghost of a smile flickered across her face. "I am pleased to find, +child, that you are not entirely destitute of manners," she said, and +with a stately wave of the arm I was dismissed. + +It was like an escape from slavery to hear the door of the Green Saloon +close behind me, and to get into the great corridors and passages +outside. I could have capered for very glee; only Mrs. Dance was a staid +sort of person, and might not have liked it. + +"Her ladyship is pleased with you, I am sure," she remarked, as we went +along. + +"That is more than I am with her," I answered, pertly. Mrs. Dance looked +shocked. + +"You must not talk in that way, dear, on any account," she said. "You +must try to like Lady Chillington; it is to your interest to do so. But +even should you never learn to like her, you must not let anyone know +it." + +"I'm sure that I shall like the lady that you call Sister Agnes," I +said. "When shall I see her? To-morrow?" + +Mrs. Dance looked at me sharply for a moment. "You think you shall like +Sister Agnes, eh? When you come to know her, you will more than like +her; you will love her. But perhaps Lady Chillington will not allow you +to see her." + +"But why not?" I said abruptly, and I could feel my eyes flash with +anger. + +"The why not I am not at liberty to explain," said Mrs. Dance, drily. +"And let me tell you, Miss Janet Hope, there are many things under this +roof of which no explanation will be given you, and if you are a wise, +good girl, you will not ask too many questions. I tell you this simply +for your own good. Lady Chillington cannot abear people that are always +prying and asking 'What does this mean?' and 'What does the other mean?' +A still tongue is the sign of a wise head." + +Ten minutes later I had said my prayers and was in bed. "Don't go +without kissing me," I said to Dance as she took up the candle. + +The old lady came back and kissed me tenderly. "Heaven bless you and +keep you, my dear!" she said, with solemn dignity. "There are those in +the world who love you very dearly, and some day perhaps you will know +all. I dare not say more. Good-night, and God bless you." + +Mrs. Dance's words reached a chord in my heart that vibrated to the +slightest touch. I cried myself silently to sleep. + +How long I had been asleep I had no means of knowing, but I was awakened +some time in the night by a rain of kisses, soft, warm, and light, on +lips, cheeks and forehead. The room was pitch dark, and for a second or +two I thought I was still at Park Hill, and that Miss Chinfeather had +come back from heaven to tell me how much she loved me. But this thought +passed away like the slide of a magic lantern, and I knew that I was at +Deepley Walls. The moment I knew this I put out my arms with the +intention of clasping my unknown visitor round the neck. But I was not +quick enough. The kisses ceased, my hands met each other in the empty +air, and I heard a faint noise of garments trailing across the floor. I +started up in bed, and called out, in a frightened voice, "Who's there?" + +"Hush! not a word!" whispered a voice out of the darkness. Then I heard +the door of my room softly closed, and I felt that I was alone. + +I was left as wide awake as ever I had been in my life. My child's heart +was filled with an unspeakable yearning, and yet the darkness and the +mystery frightened me. It could not be Miss Chinfeather who had visited +me, I argued with myself. The lips that had touched mine were not those +of a corpse, but were instinct with life and love. Who, then, could my +mysterious visitor be? Not Lady Chillington, surely! I half started up +in bed at the thought. Just as I did so, without warning of any kind, a +solemn muffled tramp became audible in the room immediately over mine. A +tramp, slow, heavy, measured, from one end of the room to the other, and +then back again. I slipped back into the bedclothes and buried myself up +to the ears. I could hear the beating of my heart, oppressed now with a +new terror before which the lesser one faded utterly. The very monotony +of that dull measured walk was enough to unstring the nerves of a child, +coming as it did in the middle of the night. I tried to escape from it +by going still deeper under the clothes, but I could hear it even then. +Since I could not escape it altogether, I had better listen to it with +all my ears, for it was quite possible that it might come down stairs, +and so into my room. Had such a thing happened, I think I should have +died from sheer terror. Happily for me nothing of the kind took place; +and, still listening, I fell asleep at last from utter weariness, and +knew nothing more till I was awoke by a stray sunbeam smiting me across +the eyes. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +A VOYAGE OF DISCOVERY. + + +A golden sunbeam was shining through a crevice in the blinds; the birds +were twittering in the ivy outside; oxen were lowing to each other +across the park. Morning, with all her music, was abroad. + +I started up in bed and rubbed my eyes. Within the house everything was +as mute as the grave. That horrible tramping overhead had ceased--had +ceased, doubtless, with the return of daylight, which would otherwise +have shifted it from the region of the weird to that of the +commonplace. I smiled to myself as I thought of my terrors of the past +night, and felt brave enough just then to have faced a thousand ghosts. +In another minute I was out of bed, and had drawn up my blind, and flung +open my window, and was drinking in the sweet peaceful scene that +stretched away before me in long level lines to the edge of a far-off +horizon. + +My window was high up and looked out at the front of the hall. +Immediately below me was a semicircular lawn, shut in from the park by +an invisible fence, close shaven, and clumped with baskets of flowers +glowing just now with all the brilliance of late autumn. The main +entrance--a flight of shallow steps, and an Ionic portico, as I +afterwards found--was at one end of the building, and was reached by a +long straight carriage drive, the route of which could be traced across +the park by the thicker growth of trees with which it was fringed. This +park stretched to right and left for a mile either way. In front, it was +bounded, a short half-mile away, by the high road, beyond which were +level wide-stretching meadows, through which the river Adair washed slow +and clear. + +But chief of all this morning I wanted to be down among the flowers. I +made haste to wash and dress, taking an occasional peep through the +window as I did so, and trying to entice the birds from their +hiding-places in the ivy. Then I opened my bed-room door, and then, in +view of the great landing outside, I paused. Several doors, all except +mine now closed, gave admittance from this landing to different rooms. +Both landing and stairs were made of oak, black and polished with age. +One broad flight of stairs, with heavy carved banisters, pointed the way +below; a second and narrower flight led to the regions above. As a +matter of course I chose the former, but not till after a minute's +hesitation as to whether I should venture to leave my room at all before +I should be called. But my desire to see the baskets of flowers +prevailed over everything else. I closed my door gently and hurried +down. + +I found myself in the entrance-hall of Deepley Walls, into which I had +been ushered on my arrival. There were the two curtained doorways +through which Lady Chillington had come and gone. For the rest, it was a +gloomy place enough, with its flagged floor, and its diamond-paned +windows high up in the semicircular roof. A few rusty full-lengths +graced the walls; the stairs were guarded by two effigies in armour; a +marble bust of one of the Cĉsars stood on a high pedestal in the middle +of the floor; and that was all. + +I was glad to get away from this dismal spot and to find myself in the +passage which led to the housekeeper's room. I opened the door and +looked in, but the room was vacant. Farther along the same passage I +found the kitchen and other domestic offices. The kitchen clock was just +on the point of six as I went in. One servant alone had come down. From +her I inquired my way into the garden, and next minute I was on the +lawn. The close-cropped grass was wet with the heavy dew; but my boots +were thick and I heeded it not, for the flowers were there within my +very grasp. + +Oh, those flowers! can I ever forget them? I have seen none so beautiful +since. There can be none so beautiful out of Paradise. + +One spray of scarlet geranium was all that I ventured to pluck. But the +odours and the colours were there for all comers, and were as much mine +for the time being as if the flowers themselves had belonged to me. +Suddenly I turned and glanced up at the many-windowed house with a sort +of guilty consciousness that I might possibly be doing wrong. But the +house was still asleep--closed shutters or down-drawn blind at every +window. I saw before me a substantial-looking red-brick mansion, with a +high slanting roof, of not undignified appearance now that it was +mellowed by age, but with no pretensions to architectural beauty. The +sole attempt at outside ornamentation consisted of a few flutings of +white stone, reaching from the ground to the second floor, and +terminating in oval shields of the same material, on which had +originally been carved the initials of the builder and the date of +erection; but the summer's sun and the winter's rain of many a long year +had rubbed both letters and figures carefully out. Long afterwards I +knew that Deepley Walls had been built in the reign of the Third William +by a certain Squire Chillington of that date, "out of my own head," as +he himself put it in a quaint document still preserved among the family +archives; and rather a muddled head it must have been in matters +architectural. + +After this, I ventured round by the main entrance, with its gravelled +carriage sweep, to the other side of the house, where I found a long +flagged terrace bordered with large evergreens in tubs placed at +frequent intervals. On to this terrace several French windows +opened--the windows, as I found later in the day, of Lady Chillington's +private rooms. To the left of this terrace stood a plantation of young +trees, through which a winding path that opened by a wicket into the +private grounds invited me to penetrate. Through the green gloom I +advanced bravely, my heart beating with all the pleasure of one who was +exploring some unknown land. I saw no living thing by the way, save two +grey rabbits that scuttered across my path and vanished in the +undergrowth on the other side. Pretty frisky creatures! how I should +like to have caught them, and fed them, and made pets of them as long as +they lived! + +Two or three hundred yards farther on the path ended with another +wicket, now locked, which opened into the high road. About a mile away I +could discern the roofs and chimneys of a little town. When I got back +to the hall I found dear old Dance getting rather anxious at my long +absence, but she brightened into smiles when I kissed her and told her +where I had been. + +"You must have slept well, or you would hardly look so rosy this +morning," she said as we sat down to breakfast. + +"I should have slept very well if I had not been troubled by the +ghosts." + +"Ghosts! my dear Miss Janet? You do not mean to say--" and the old +lady's cheek paled suddenly, and her cup rattled in her saucer as she +held it. + +"I mean to say that Deepley Walls is haunted by two ghosts, one of which +came and kissed me last night when I was asleep; while the other one was +walking nearly all night in the room over mine." + +Dance's face brightened, but still wore a puzzled expression. "You must +have dreamed that someone kissed you, dear," she said. "If you were +asleep you could not know anything about it." + +"But I was awakened by it, and I am positive that it was no dream." Then +I told her what few particulars there were to tell. + +"For the future we must lock your bed-room door," she said. + +"Then I should be more frightened than ever. Besides, a real ghost would +not be kept out by locking the door." + +"Well, dear, tell me if you are disturbed in the same way again. But as +for the tramping you heard in the room overhead, that is easily +explained. It was no ghost that you heard walking, but Lady +Chillington." Then, seeing my look of astonishment, she went on to +explain. "You see, my dear Miss Janet, her ladyship is a very peculiar +person, and does many things that to commonplace people like you and me +may seem rather strange. One of these little peculiarities is her +fondness for walking about the room over yours at night. Now, if she +likes to do this, I know of no reason why she should not do it. It is a +little whim that does no harm to anybody; and as the house and +everything in it are her own, she may surely please herself in such a +trifle." + +"But what is there in the room that she should prefer it to any other in +the house for walking in by night?" + +"What--is--there--in the room?" said the old lady, staring at me across +the table with a strange, frightened look in her eyes. "What a curious +question! The room is a common room, of course, with nothing in it out +of the ordinary way; only, as I said before, it happens to be Lady +Chillington's whim to walk there. So, if you hear the noise again, you +will know how to account for it, and will have too much good sense to +feel in the least afraid." + +I had a half consciousness that Dance was prevaricating with me in this +matter, or hiding something from me; but I was obliged to accept her +version as the correct one, especially as I saw that any further +questioning would be of no avail. + +I did not see Lady Chillington that day. She was reported to be unwell, +and kept her own rooms. + +About noon a message came from Sister Agnes that she would like to see +me in her room. When I entered she was standing by a square oak table, +resting one hand on it while the other was pressed to her heart. Her +face was very pale, but her dark eyes beamed on me with a veiled +tenderness that I could not misinterpret. + +"Good-morrow, Miss Hope," she said, offering her white slender hand for +my acceptance. "I fear that you will find Deepley Walls even duller than +Park Hill Seminary." + +Her tone was cold and constrained. I looked up earnestly into her face. +Her lips began to quiver painfully. "Child! child! you must not look at +me in that way," she cried. + +Instinct whispered something in my ear. "You are the lady who came and +kissed me when I was asleep!" I exclaimed. + +Her brow contracted for a moment as if she were in pain. A hectic spot +came out suddenly on either cheek, and vanished almost as swiftly. "Yes, +it was I who came to your room last night," she said. "You are not vexed +with me for doing so?" + +"On the contrary, I love you for it." + +Her smile, the sweetest I ever saw, beamed out at this. Gently she +stroked my hair. "You looked so forlorn and weary last night," she said, +"that after I got to bed I could not help thinking about you. I was +afraid you would not be able to sleep in a strange place, so I could not +rest till I had visited you: but I never intended to awake you." + +"I do not mind how often I am awakened in the same way," I said. "No one +has ever seemed to love me but you, and I cannot help loving you back." + +"My poor child!" was all she said. We had sat down by this time close to +the window, and Sister Agnes was holding one of my hands in hers and +caressing it gently as she gazed dreamily across the park. My eyes, +child-like, wandered from her to the room and then back again. The +picture still lives in my memory as fresh as though it had been limned +but yesterday. + +A square whitewashed room, fitted up with furniture of unpolished oak. +On the walls a few proof engravings of subjects taken from Sacred +History. A small bookcase in one corner, and a _prie-dieu_ in another. +The floor uncarpeted, but polished after the French fashion. A +writing-table; a large workbox; a heap of clothing for the poor; and +lastly, a stand for flowers. + +The features of Sister Agnes were as delicate and clearly cut as those +of some antique statue, but their habitual expression was one of intense +melancholy. Her voice was low and gracious: the voice of a refined and +educated gentlewoman. Her hair was black, with here and there a faint +silver streak; but the peculiar head-dress of white linen which she wore +left very little of it visible. Disfiguring as this head-dress might +have been to many people, in her case it served merely to enhance the +marble whiteness and transparent purity of her complexion. Her eyebrows +were black and well-defined; but as for the eyes themselves, I can only +repeat what I said before--that their dark depths were full of +tenderness and a sort of veiled enthusiasm difficult to describe in +words. Her dress was black, soft and coarse, relieved by deep cuffs of +white linen. Her solitary ornament, if ornament it could be called, was +a rosary of black beads. Not without reason have I been thus particular +in describing Sister Agnes and her surroundings, as they who read will +discover for themselves by-and-by. + +Sister Agnes woke up from her reverie with a sigh, and began talking to +me about my schooldays and my mode of life at Park Hill Seminary. It was +a pleasure to me to talk, because I felt it was a pleasure to her to +listen to me. And she let me talk on and on for I can't tell how long, +only putting in a question now and again, till she knew almost as much +about Miss Chinfeather and Park Hill as I knew myself. But she never +seemed to grow weary. We were sitting close together, and after a time I +felt her arm steal gently round my waist, pressing me closer still; and +so, with my head nestling against her shoulder, I talked on, heedless of +the time. O happy afternoon! + +It was broken by a summons for Sister Agnes from Lady Chillington. +"To-morrow, if the weather hold fine, we will go to Charke Forest and +gather blackberries," said Sister Agnes as she gave me a parting kiss. + +That night I went early to bed, and never woke till daybreak. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +SCARSDALE WEIR. + + +I was up betimes next morning, long before Sister Agnes could possibly +be ready to take me to the forest. So I took my sewing into the garden, +and found a pleasant sunny nook, where I sat and worked till breakfast +time. The meal was scarcely over when Sister Agnes sent for me. It made +my heart leap with pleasure to see how her beautiful, melancholy face +lighted up at my approach. Why should she feel such an interest in one +whom she had never seen till a few hours ago? The question was one I +could not answer; I could only recognise the fact and be thankful. + +The morning was delicious: sunny, without being oppressive; while in the +shade there was a faint touch of austerity like the first breath of +coming winter. A walk of two miles brought us to the skirts of the +forest, and in five minutes after quitting the high road we might have +been a hundred miles away from any habitation, so utterly lost and +buried from the outer world did we seem to be. Already the forest paths +were half hidden by fallen leaves, which rustled pleasantly under our +feet. By-and-by we came to a pretty opening in the wood, where some +charitable soul had erected a rude rustic seat that was more than half +covered with the initials of idle wayfarers. Here Sister Agnes sat down +to rest. She had brought a volume of poems with her, and while she read +I wandered about, never going very far away, feasting on the purple +blackberries, finding here and there a late-ripened cluster of nuts, +trying to find out a nest or two among the thinned foliage, and enjoying +myself in a quiet way much to my heart's content. + +I don't think Sister Agnes read much that morning. Her gaze was oftener +away from her book than on it. After a time she came and joined me in +gathering nuts and blackberries. She seemed brighter and happier than I +had hitherto seen her, entering into all my little projects with as much +eagerness as though she were herself a child. How soon I had learned to +love her! Why had I lived all those dreary years at Park Hill without +knowing her? But I could never again feel quite so lonely--never quite +such an outcast from that common household love which all the girls I +had known seemed to accept as a matter of course. Even if I should +unhappily be separated from Sister Agnes, I could not cease to love her; +and although I had seen her for the first time barely forty-eight hours +ago, my child's instinct told me that she possessed that steadfastness, +sweet and strong, which allows no name that has once been written on its +heart to be erased therefrom for ever. + +My thoughts were running in some such groove, but they were all as +tangled and confused as the luxuriant undergrowth around me. It must +have been out of this confusion that the impulse arose which caused me +to address a question to Sister Agnes that startled her as much as if a +shell had exploded at her feet. + +"Dear Sister Agnes," I said, "you seem to know my history, and all about +me. Did you know my papa and mamma?" + +She dropped the leaf that held her fruit, and turned on me a haggard, +frightened face that made my own grow pale. + +"What makes you think that I know your history?" she stammered out. + +"You who are so intimate with Lady Chillington must know why I was +brought to Deepley Walls: you must know something about me. If you know +anything about my father and mother, oh! do please tell me; please do!" + +"I am tired, Janet. Let us sit down," she said, wearily. So, hand in +hand, we went back to the rustic seat and sat down. + +She sat for a minute or two without speaking, gazing straight before her +into some far-away forest vista, but seeing only with that inner eye +which searches through the dusty chambers of heart and brain whenever +some record of the past has to be brought forth to answer the questions +of to-day. + +"I do know your history, dear child," she said at length, "and both your +parents were friends of mine." + +"Were! Then neither of them is alive?" + +"Alas! no. They have been dead many years. Your father was drowned in +one of the Italian lakes. Your mother died a year afterwards." + +All the sweet vague hopes that I had cherished in secret, ever since I +could remember anything, of some day finding at least one of my parents +alive, died out utterly as Sister Agnes said these words. My heart +seemed to faint within me. I flung myself into her arms, and burst into +tears. + +Very tenderly and lovingly, with sweet caresses and words of comfort, +did Sister Agnes strive to win me back to cheerfulness. Her efforts were +not unsuccessful, and after a time I grew calmer and recovered my +self-possession; and as soon as so much was accomplished we set out on +our return to Deepley Walls. + +As we rose to go, I said, "Since you have told me so much, Sister Agnes, +will you not also tell me why I have been brought to Deepley Walls, and +why Lady Chillington has anything to do with me?" + +"That is a question, dear Janet, which I cannot answer," she said. "I am +bound to Lady Chillington by a solemn promise not to reveal to you the +nature of the secret bond which has brought you under her roof. That she +has your welfare at heart you may well believe, and that it is to your +interest to please her in every possible way is equally certain. More +than this I dare not say, except there are certain pages of your +history, some of them of a very painful character, which it would not be +advisable that you should read till you shall be many years older than +you are now. Meanwhile rest assured that in Lady Chillington, however +eccentric she may seem to be, you have a firm and powerful friend; while +in me, who have neither influence nor power, you have one who simply +loves you, and prays night and day for your welfare." + +"And you will never cease to love me, will you?" I said, just as we +stepped out of the forest into the high road. + +She took both my hands in hers and looked me straight in the face. +"Never, while I live, Janet Hope, can I cease to love you," she said. +Then we kissed and went on our way towards Deepley Walls. + +"You are to dine with her ladyship to-day, Miss Janet," said Dance the +same afternoon. "We must look out your best bib and tucker." + +Dance seemed to think that a mighty honour was about to be conferred +upon me, but for my own part I would have given much to forego the +distinction. However, there was no help for it, so I submitted quietly +to having my hair dressed and to being inducted into my best frock. I +was dreadfully abashed when the footman threw open the dining-room door +and announced in a loud voice, "Miss Janet Hope." + +Dinner had just been served, and her ladyship was waiting. I advanced up +the room and made my curtsey. Lady Chillington looked at me grimly, +without relaxing a muscle, and then extended a lean forefinger, which I +pressed respectfully. The butler indicated a chair, and I sat down. Next +moment Sister Agnes glided in through a side door, and took her place +at the table, but considerably apart from Lady Chillington and me. I +felt infinitely relieved by her presence. + +Her ladyship looked as elaborately youthful, with her pink cheeks, her +black wig, and her large white teeth, as on the evening of my arrival at +Deepley Walls. But her hands shook a little, making the diamonds on her +fingers scintillate in the candlelight as she carried her food to her +mouth, and this was a sign of age which not all the art in the world +could obviate. The table was laid out with a quantity of old-fashioned +plate; indeed, the plate was out of all proportion to the dinner, which +consisted of nothing more elaborate than some mutton broth, a roast +pullet and a custard. But there was a good deal of show, and we were +waited on assiduously by a respectable but fatuous-looking butler. There +was no wine brought out, but some old ale was poured into her ladyship's +glass from a silver flagon. Sister Agnes had a small cover laid apart +from ours. Her dinner consisted of herbs, fruit, bread and water. It +pained me to see that the look of intense melancholy which had lightened +so wonderfully during our forest walk had again overshadowed her face +like a veil. She gave me one long, earnest look as she took her seat at +the table, but after that she seemed scarcely to be aware of my +presence. + +We had sat in grim silence for full five minutes, when Lady Chillington +spoke. + +"Can you speak French, child?" she said, turning abruptly to me. + +"I can read it a little, but I cannot speak it," I replied. + +"Nor understand what is said when it is spoken in your presence?" + +"No, ma'am." + +"So much the better," she answered with a grating laugh. "Children have +long ears, and there is no freedom of conversation when they are +present." With that she addressed some remarks in French to Sister +Agnes, who replied to her in the same language. I knew nothing about my +ears being long, but her ladyship's words had made them tingle as if +they had been boxed. For one thing I was thankful--that no further +remarks were addressed to me during dinner. The conversation in French +became animated, and I had leisure to think of other things. + +Dinner was quickly over, and at a signal from her ladyship, the folding +doors were thrown open, and we defiled into the Green Saloon, I bringing +up the rear meekly. On the table were fruit and flowers, and one small +bottle of some light wine. The butler filled her ladyship's glass, and +then withdrew. + +"You can take a pear, little girl," said Lady Chillington. Accordingly I +took a pear, but when I had got it I was too timid to eat it, and could +do nothing but hold it between my hot palms. Had I been at Park Hill +Seminary, I should soon have made my teeth meet in the fruit; but I was +not certain as to the proper mode of eating pears in society. + +Lady Chillington placed her glass in her eye and examined me critically. + +"Haie! haie!" she said. "That good Chinfeather has not quite eradicated +our gaucherie, it seems. We are deficient in ease and aplomb. What is +the name of that Frenchwoman, Agnes, who 'finished' Lady Kinbuck's +girls?" + +"You mean Madame Delclos." + +"The same. Look out her address to-morrow, and remind me that you write +to her. If mademoiselle here remain in England, she will grow up weedy, +and will never learn to carry her shoulders properly. Besides, the child +has scarcely two words to say for herself. A little Parisian training +may prove beneficial. At her age a French girl of family would be a +little duchess in bearing and manners, even though she had never been +outside the walls of her pension. How is such an anomaly to be accounted +for? It is possible that the atmosphere may have something to do with +it." + +Here was fresh food for wonder, and for such serious thought as my age +admitted of. I was to be sent to a school in France! I could not make up +my mind whether to be sorry or glad. In truth, I was neither wholly the +one nor the other; the tangled web of my feelings was something +altogether beyond my skill to unravel. + +Lady Chillington sipped her wine absently awhile; Sister Agnes was busy +with some fine needlework; and I was striving to elaborate a giant and +his attendant dwarf out of the glowing embers and cavernous recesses of +the wood fire, while there was yet an underlying vein of thought at work +in my mind which busied itself desultorily with trying to piece together +all that I had ever heard or read of life in a French school. + +"You can run away now, little girl. You are de trop," said her ladyship, +turning on me in her abrupt fashion. "And you, Agnes, may as well read +to me a couple of chapters out of the 'Girondins.' What a wonderful man +was that Robespierre! What a giant! Had he but lived, how different the +history of Europe would have been from what we know it to-day." + +I could almost have kissed her ladyship of my own accord, so pleased was +I to get away. I made my curtsey to her, and also to Sister Agnes, whose +only reply was a sweet, sad smile, and managed to preserve my dignity +till I was out of the room. But when the door was safely closed behind +me, I ran, I flew along the passages till I reached the housekeeper's +room. Dance was not there, neither had candles yet been lighted. The +bright moonlight pouring in through the window gave me a new idea. + +I had not yet been down to look at the river! What time could be better +than the present one for such a purpose? I had heard some of the elder +girls at Park Hill talk of the delights of boating by moonlight. Boating +in the present case was out of the question, but there was the river +itself to be seen. Taking my hat and scarf, I let myself out by a side +door, and then sped away across the park like a hunted fawn, not +forgetting to take an occasional bite at her ladyship's pear. To-night, +for a wonder, my mind seemed purged of all those strange fears and +stranger fancies engendered in it, some people would say, by +superstition, while others would hold that they were merely the effects +of a delicate nervous organisation and over-excitable brain re-acting +one upon the other. Be that as it may, for this night they had left me, +and I skipped on my way as fearlessly as though I were walking at +mid-day, and with a glorious sense of freedom working within me, such, +only in a more intense degree, as I had often felt on our rare holidays +at school. + +There was a right of public footpath across one corner of the park. +Tracking this narrow white ribbon through the greensward, I came at +length to a stile which admitted me into the high road. Exactly opposite +was a second stile, opening on a second footpath, which I felt sure +could lead to nowhere but the river. Nor was I mistaken. In another five +minutes I was on the banks of the Adair. + +To my child's eye, the scene was one of exquisite beauty. To-day, I +should probably call it flat and wanting in variety. The equable +full-flowing river was lighted up by a full and unclouded moon. The +undergrowth that fringed its banks was silver-foliaged; silver-white +rose the mists in the meadows. Silence everywhere, save for the low +liquid murmur of the river itself, which seemed burdened with some love +secret, centuries old, which it was vainly striving to tell in +articulate words. + +The burden of the beauty lay upon me and saddened me. I wandered slowly +along the bank, watching the play of moonlight on the river. Suddenly I +saw a tiny boat that was moored to an overhanging willow, and floated +out the length of its chain towards the middle of the stream. I looked +around. Not a creature of any kind was visible. Then I thought to +myself: "How pleasant it would be to sit out there in the boat for a +little while. And surely no one could be angry with me for taking such a +liberty--not even the owner of the boat, if he were to find me there." + +No sooner said than done. I went down to the edge of the river and drew +the boat inshore by the chain that held it. Then I stepped gingerly in, +half-frightened at my own temerity, and sat down. The boat glided slowly +out again to the length of its chain and then became motionless. But it +was motionless only for a moment or two. A splash in the water drew my +attention to the chain. It had been insecurely fastened to a branch of +the willow; my weight in the boat had caused it to become detached and +fall into the water, and with horrified eyes I saw that I had now no +means of getting back to the shore. Next moment the strength of the +current carried the boat out into mid-stream, and I began to float +slowly down the river. + +I sat like one paralysed, unable either to stir or speak. The willows +seemed to bow their heads in mocking farewell as I glided past them. I +heard the faint baying of a dog on some distant farm, and it sounded +like a death-note in my frightened ears. Suddenly the spell that had +held me was loosened, and I started to my feet. The boat heeled over, +and but for a sudden instinctive movement backward I should have gone +headlong into the river, and have ended my troubles there and then. The +boat righted itself, veered half-round and then went steadily on its way +down the stream. I sank on my knees and buried my face in my hands, and +began to cry. When I had cried a little while it came into my mind that +I would say my prayers. So I said them, with clasped hands and wet eyes; +and the words seemed to come from me and affect me in a way that I had +never experienced before. As I write these lines I have a vivid +recollection of noticing how blurred and large the moon looked through +my tears. + +My heart was now quieted a little; I was no longer so utterly +overmastered by my fears. I was recalled to a more vivid sense of earth +and its realities by the low, melancholy striking of some village clock. +I gazed eagerly along both banks of the river; but although the moon +shone so brightly, neither house nor church nor any sign of human +habitation was visible. When the clock had told its last syllable, the +silence seemed even more profound than before. I might have been +floating on a river that wound through a country never trodden by the +foot of man, so entirely alone, so utterly removed from all human aid, +did I feel myself to be. + +I drew the skirt of my frock over my shoulders, for the night air was +beginning to chill me, and contrived to regain the seat I had taken on +first entering the boat. Whither would the river carry me, was the +question I now put to myself. To the sea, doubtless. Had I not been +taught at school that sooner or later all rivers emptied themselves into +the ocean? The immensity of the thought appalled me. It seemed to chill +the beating of my heart; I grew cold from head to foot. Still the boat +held its course steadily, swept onward by the resistless current; still +the willows nodded their fantastic farewells. Along the level meadows +far and wide the white mist lay like a vast winding-sheet; now and then +through the stillness I heard, or seemed to hear, a moan--a mournful +wail, as of some spirit just released from earthly bonds, and forced to +leave its dear ones behind. The moonlight looked cruel, and the water +very, very cold. Someone had told me that death by drowning was swift +and painless. Those stars up there were millions of miles away; how long +would it take my soul, I wondered, to travel that distance--to reach +those glowing orbs--to leave them behind? How glorious such a journey, +beyond all power of thought, to track one's way among the worlds that +flash through space! In the world I should leave there would be one +person only who would mourn for me--Sister Agnes, who would--But what +noise was that? + +A noise, low and faint at first, just taking the edge of silence with a +musical murmur that seemed to die out for an instant now and again, then +coming again stronger than before, and so growing by fine degrees louder +and more confirmed, and resolving itself at last into a sound which +could not be mistaken for that of anything but falling water. The sound +was clearly in front of me; I was being swept resistlessly towards it. A +curve of the river and a swelling of the banks hid everything from me. +The sound was momently growing louder, and had distinctly resolved +itself into the roar and rush of some great body of water. I shuddered +and grasped the sides of the boat with both hands. + +Suddenly the curve was rounded, and there, almost in front of me, was a +mass of buildings, and there, too, spanning the river, was what looked +to me like a trellis-work bridge, and on the bridge was a human figure. +The roar and noise of the cataract were deafening, but louder than all +was my piercing cry for help. He who stood on the bridge heard it. I saw +him fling up his hands as if in sudden horror, and that was the last +thing I did see. I sank down with closed eyes in the bottom of the boat, +and my heart went up in a silent cry to Heaven. Next moment I was swept +into Scarsdale Weir. The boat seemed to glide from under me; my head +struck something hard; the water overwhelmed me, seized on me, dashed me +here and there in its merciless arms; a noise as of a thousand cataracts +filled my ears for a moment; and then I recollect nothing more. + +(_To be continued._) + + + + +SONNET. + + + Wouldst thou be happy, friend, forget, forget. + A curse--no blessing--Memory, thou art; + The very torment of a human heart. + Ah! yes, I thought, I still am young; and let + My heart but beat, I can be happy yet. + Upon a friendly face clear shone the light; + Without, low moaned the mountain's winds, and night + Closed our warm home--sad words of fond regret. + A voice which in my ear no more shall ring; + A look estranged in hate like lightning came, + My very soul within me died as flame + By strong wind spent. It was not grief, for dead + Was grief; nor love, for love in wrath had fled; + It was of both the last undying sting! + +JULIA KAVANAGH. + + + + +THE BRETONS AT HOME. + +BY CHARLES W. WOOD, F.R.G.S., AUTHOR OF "THROUGH HOLLAND," "LETTERS +FROM MAJORCA," ETC. ETC. + + +The long grey walls, the fortifications, the church towers and steeples, +the clustering roofs of St. Malo came into view. + +It is a charming sight after the long and often unpleasant night journey +which separates St. Malo from Southampton. The boats leave much to be +desired, and the sea very often, like Shakespeare's heroine, needs +taming, but, unlike that heroine, will not be tamed, charm we never so +wisely. As a rule, however, one is not in a mood to charm. + +[Illustration: A BRETON MAIDEN.] + +The Company are not accommodating. There are private cabins on board +holding four, badly placed, uncomfortable, possessing the single +advantage of privacy; but these managers would have them empty rather +than allow two passengers to occupy one of them under the full fare of +four. This is unamiable and exacting. In crowded times it may be all +very right, but on ordinary occasions they would do well to follow the +example of the more generous Norwegians, who place their state cabins +holding four at the disposal of anyone paying the fare of three +passengers. + +After the long night-passage it is delightful to steam into the harbour +of St. Malo. If the sea has been rough and unkindly, you at once pass +from Purgatory to Paradise, with a relief those will understand who have +experienced it. The scene is very charming. The coast, broken and +undulating, is rich and fertile; very often hazy and dreamy; the +landscape is veiled by a purple mist which reminds one very much of the +Irish lakes and mountains. + +Across the water lies Dinard, with its lovely views, its hilly +thoroughfares, its English colony and its French patois. But the boat, +turning the point, steams up the harbour and Dinard falls away. St. Malo +lies ahead on the left, enclosed in its ancient grey walls, which +encircle it like a belt; and on the right, farther away, rise the towers +and steeples of St. Servan, also of ancient celebrity. + +On the particular morning of which I write, as we steamed up the harbour +towards our moorings, the quays looked gay and lively, the town very +picturesque. It is so in truth, though some of its picturesqueness is +the result of antiquity, dirt and dilapidation. But the fresh green +trees lining the quay looked bright and youthful; a contrast with the +ancient grey walls that formed their background. Vessels were loading +and unloading, people hurried to and fro; many had evidently come down +to see the boat in, and not a few were unmistakably English. + +Here and there in the grey walls were the grand imposing gateways of the +town. Above the walls rose the quaint houses, roof above roof, gable +beside gable, tier beyond tier. + +At the end of the quay the old Castle brought the scene to a fine +conclusion. It was built by Anne of Brittany, and dates from the +sixteenth century. One of its towers bears the singular motto or +inscription: _Qui qu'en grogne, ainsi sera, c'est mon plaisir_: which +seems to suggest that the illustrious lady owned a determined will and +purpose. It is now turned into barracks; a lordly residence for the +simple paysans who swelled the ranks of the Breton regiment occupying it +at the time of which I write. They are said to be the best fighting +soldiers in France, these Bretons. Of a low order of development, +physically and mentally, they yet have a stubborn will which carries +them through impossible hardships. They may be conquered, but they never +yield. + +The walk round the town upon the walls is extremely interesting. +Gradually making way, the scene changes like the shifting slides of a +panorama. Now the harbour lies before you, with its busy quays, its +docks, its small crowd of shipping; very crowded we have never seen it. +The old Castle rises majestically, looking all its three centuries of +age and royal dignity; its four towers unspoilt by restoration. + +Onward still and the walls rise sheer out of the rocks and the water. At +certain tides, the sea dashes against them and breaks back upon itself +in froth and foam and angry boom. Sight and sound are a wonderful nerve +tonic. Countless rocks rise like small islands in every direction, +stretching far out to sea. On a calm day it is all lovely beyond the +power of words. The sky is blue and brilliant with sunshine. The sea +receives the dazzling rays and returns them in a myriad flashes. The +water seems to have as many tints as the rainbow, and they are as +changing and beautiful and intangible. A distant vessel, passing slowly +with all her sails set, almost becalmed, suggests a dreamy and +delicious existence that has not its rival. The coast of Normandy +stretches far out of sight. In the distance are the Channel Islands, +visible possibly on a clear day and with a strong glass. I know not how +that may be. + +Turn your gaze, and you have St. Malo lying within its grey walls. The +sea on the right is all freedom and broad expanse; the town on the left +is cabin'd, cribb'd, confin'd. Extremes meet here, as they often do +elsewhere. + +It is a succession of slanting roofs, roof above roof, street beyond +street. Many of the houses are very old and form wonderful groups, full +of quaint gables and dormer windows, whilst the high roofs slant upwards +and fall away in picturesque outlines. An artist might work here for +years and still find fresh material to his hand. The streets are narrow, +steep and tortuous; the houses, crowding one upon another, are many +stories high; not a few seem ready to fall with age and decay. Only have +patience, and all yields to time. + +On one of the islets is the tomb of Chateaubriand, who was born in St. +Malo and lived here many years. It was one of his last wishes to be +buried where the sea, for ever playing and plashing around him, would +chant him an everlasting requiem. Many will sympathise with the feeling. +No scene could be more in accordance with the solemnity of death, the +long waiting for the "eternal term;" more in unison with the pure spirit +that could write such a prose-poem as _Atala_. + +Nothing could have been lovelier than the day of our arrival at St. +Malo; the special day of which I write; for St. Malo has seen our coming +and going many times and in all weathers. + +The crossing had been calm as a lake. Even H.C., who would sooner brave +the tortures of a Spanish Inquisition than the ocean in its angry moods, +and who has occasionally landed after a rough passage in an expiring +condition: even H.C. was impatient to land and break his fast at the +liberal table of the Hôtel de France--very liberal in comparison with +the Hôtel Franklin. We had once dined at the table d'hôte of the +Franklin, and found it a veritable Barmecide's feast, from which we got +up far more hungry than we had sat down; a display so mean that we soon +ceased to wonder that only two others graced the board with ourselves, +and they, though Frenchmen, strangers to the place. The Hôtel de France +was very different from this; if it left something to be desired in the +way of refinement, it erred on the side of abundance. + +Therefore, on landing this morning, we gave our lighter baggage in +charge of the porter of the hotel, who knew us well, and according to +his wont, gave us a friendly greeting. "Monsieur visite encore St. +Malo," said he, "et nous apporte le beau temps. Soyez le bienvenu!" This +was not in the least familiar--from a Frenchman. + +[Illustration: ST. MALO.] + +We went on to the custom-house, and as we had nothing to declare the +inspection was soon over. H.C. had left all his tea and cigars behind +him at the Waterloo Station, in a small hand-bag which he had put down +for a moment to record a sudden fine phrenzy of poetical inspiration. +Besides tea and cigars, the bag contained a copy of his beloved "Love +Lyrics," without which he never travels, and a bunch of lilies of the +valley, given him at the moment of leaving home by Lady Maria; an +amiable but ĉsthetical aunt, who lives on crystallised violets, and +spends her time in endeavouring to convert all the young men of her +acquaintance who go in for muscular Christianity to her ĉsthetical way +of thinking. + +Leaving the custom-house, we crossed the quay, the old castle in front +of us, and passing through the great gateway, immediately found +ourselves at the Place Chateaubriand and the Hôtel de France. For the +hotel forms part of the building in which Chateaubriand lived. + +We had a very short time to devote to St. Malo. A long journey still lay +before us, for we wished to reach Morlaix that night. There was the +choice of taking the train direct, or of crossing by boat to Dinard, and +so joining the train from St. Malo, which reached Dinan after a long +round. The latter seemed preferable, since it promised more variety, +though shortening our stay at the old town. But, as Madame wisely +remarked, it would give us sufficient time for luncheon, and an extra +hour or so in St. Malo could not be very profitably spent. + +So before long we were once more going down the quay, in company with +the porter--whose lamentations at our abrupt departure were no doubt +sincere as well as politic--and a truck carrying our goods and chattels. +As yet, they were modest in number and respectable in appearance. H.C. +had not commenced his raid upon the old curiosity shops; had not yet +encumbered himself with endless packages, from deal boxes containing old +silver, to worm-eaten, fourteenth century carved-wood monks and +madonnas, carefully wrapped in brown paper, and bound head, hand and +foot (where these essentials were not missing) with cord. All this came +in due time, but to-day we were still dignified. + +We passed without the walls and went down the quay. All our surroundings +were gay and brilliant. Everything was life and movement, the life and +movement of a Continental town. The "gentle gales" wooed the trees, and +the trees made music in the air. The sun shone as it can only shine out +of England. The sky, wearing its purest blue, was flecked with white +clouds pure as angels' wings. The boat we had recently left was +discharging cargo, and her steam was quietly dying down. + +Four old women--each must have been eighty, at least--were seated on a +bench, knitting and smiling and looking as placid and contented as if +the world and the sunshine had been made for them alone, and it was +their duty to enjoy it to the utmost. It was impossible to sketch them: +Time and Tide wait for no man, and even now the whistle of the Dinard +boat might be heard shrieking its impatient warning round the corner: +but we took the old women with an instantaneous camera, and with +wonderful result. It was all over before they had time to pose and put +on expressions; and when they found they had been photographed, they +thought it the great event of their lives. The mere fact is sufficient +with these good folk; possession of the likeness is a very secondary +consideration. We left them crooning and laughing and casting admiring +glances after H.C.--even at eighty years of age: possibly with a sigh to +their lost youth. + +Then we turned where the walls bend round and came in sight of the boat, +steaming alongside the small stone landing-place and preparing for +departure. + +The passengers were not numerous. A few men and women; the latter with +white caps and large baskets, who had evidently been over to St. Malo +for household purposes, and were returning with the resigned air--it is +very pathetic--that country women are so fond of wearing when they have +been spending money and lessening the weight of the stocking which +contains their treasured hoard. + +We mounted the bridge, which, being first-class and an extra two or +three sous, was deserted. These thrifty people would as soon think of +burning down their cottages, as of wasting two sous in a useless +luxury--all honour to them for the principle. But we, surveying human +nature from an elevation, felt privileged to philosophise. + +And if this human nature was interesting, what about the natural world +around us? The boat loosed its moorings when time was up, and the grey +walls of St. Malo receded; the innumerable roofs, towers and steeples +grew dreamy and indistinct, dissolved and disappeared. The water was +still blue and calm and flashing with sunlight. To the right lay the +sleeping ocean; ahead of us, Dinard. Land rose on all sides; bays and +creeks ran upwards, out of sight; headlands, rich in verdure, +magnificently wooded; houses standing out, here lonely and solitary, +there clustering almost into towns and villages; the mouth of the Rance, +leading up to Dol and Dinan, which some have called the Rhine of France, +and everyone must think a stream lovely and romantic. + +Most beautiful of all seemed Dinard, which we rapidly approached. In +twenty minutes we had passed into the little harbour beyond the pier. It +was quite a bustling quay, with carriages for hire, and men with barrows +touting noisily for custom, treading upon each other's heels in the race +for existence; cafés and small hotels in the background. + +Having plenty of time, we preferred to walk to the station, and +consigned our baggage to the care of a deaf and dumb man, who +disappeared with everything like magic, left us high and dry upon the +quay to follow more leisurely, and to hope that we were not the victims +of misplaced confidence. It looked very much like it. + +A steep climb brought us to the heights of Dinard. Nothing could be more +romantic. Here were no traces of antiquity; everything was aggressively +modern; all beauty lay in scenery and situation. Humble cottages +embowered in roses and wisteria; stately châteaux standing in large +luxuriant gardens flaming with flowers, proudly secluded behind great +iron gates. At every opening the sea, far down, lay stretched before +us. Precipitous cliffs, rugged rocks where flowers and verdure grew in +wild profusion, led sheer to the water's edge. Land everywhere rose in a +dreamy atmosphere; St. Malo and St. Servan across the bay in the +distance. It was a wealth of vegetation; trees in full foliage, masses +of gorgeous flowers, that you had only to stretch out your hand and +gather; the blue sky over all. A scene we sometimes realise in our +dreams, rarely in our waking hours--as we saw it that day. On the +far-off water below small white-winged boats looked as shadowy and +dreamy as the far-off fleecy clouds above. + +But we could not linger. We passed away from the town and the sea and +found ourselves in the country--the station seemed to escape us like a +will-o'-the-wisp. Presently we came to where two roads met--which of +them led to the station? No sign-post, no cottage. We should probably +have taken the wrong one--who does not on these occasions?--when happily +a priest came in sight, with stately step and slow reading his breviary. +Of him we asked the way, and he very politely set us right, in French +that was refreshing after the patois around us--he was evidently a +cultivated man; and offered to escort us. + +As this was unnecessary, we thanked him and departed; and, arriving soon +after at the station, found our deaf and dumb porter had not played us +false. He was cunning enough to ask us three times his proper fare, and +when we gave him half his demand seemed surprised at so much liberality. +Conversation had to be carried on with paper and pencil, and by signs +and tokens. + +The train started after a great flourish of trumpets. We had a journey +of many hours before us through North Brittany; for Brittany is a +hundred years behind the rest of France, and however slow the trains may +be in Fair Normandy they are still slower in the Breton Provinces. In +due time we reached Dinan, when we joined the train that had come round +from St. Malo. + +Nothing in Brittany is more lovely and striking than the situation of +Dinan. It overlooks the Rance, and from the train we looked down into an +immense valley. + +Everywhere the eye rested upon a profusion of wild uncultivated verdure. +The granite cliffs were steep and wooded. Far in the depths "the sacred +river ran." A few boats and barges sailing up and down, passed under the +lovely viaduct; Brittany peasant girls were putting off from the shallow +bank with small cargoes of provisions, evidently coming from some +market. Under the rugged cliffs ran a long row of small, unpretending +houses, level with the river; a paradise sheltered, one would think, +from all the winds of heaven: yet even here, no doubt, the east wind +finds a passage for its sharp tooth to warp the waters. + +[Illustration: ST. MALO.] + +Further on one caught sight of an old church, evidently in the hands of +the Philistines, under process of restoration, and an ancient +monastery. The town crowned the cliffs, but very little could be seen +beyond churches and steeples. We left it to a future time. + +The train went through beautiful and undulating country until it reached +Lamballe, picturesquely placed on the slope of a hill watered by a small +stream, and crowned by the ancient and romantic ruins of the Castle +which belonged to the Counts of Penthièvre, and was dismantled by +Cardinal Richelieu. A fine Gothic building, of which we easily traced +the outlines. The present church of Notre Dame was formerly the chapel +of the Castle. + +Here we longed to explore, but it did not enter into our plans. So, +also, the interesting town of Guingamp had to be passed over for the +present. + +For we were impatient to see Morlaix. Having heard much of its +picturesqueness and antiquity, we hoped for great things. Yet our +experiences began in an adventurous and not very agreeable manner. + +Darkness had fallen when we reached the old town, after a long and +tedious journey. Nothing is so tiring as a slow train, which crawls upon +the road and lingers at every station. Of Morlaix we could see nothing. +We felt ourselves rumbling over a viaduct which seemed to reach the +clouds, and far down we saw the lights of the town shining like stars; +so that, with the stars above, we seemed to be placed between two +firmaments; but that was all. Everything was wrapped in gloom and +mystery. The train steamed into the station and its few lights only +rendered darkness yet more visible. The passengers stumbled across the +line in a small flock to the point of exit. + +We had been strongly recommended to the Hôtel d'Europe, as strongly +cautioned against any other; but we found that the omnibus was not at +the station; nor any flys; nothing but the omnibus of a small hotel we +had never heard of, in charge of a conductor, rough, uncivil, and less +than half sober. + +This conductor--who was also the driver--declined to take us to any +other hotel than his own; would listen to no argument or reason. Had he +been civil, we might have accepted the situation, but it seemed evident +that an inn employing such a man was to be avoided. Unwilling to be +beaten, we sought the station-master and his advice. + +"Why is the omnibus of the Hôtel d'Europe not here?" we asked. + +"No doubt the hotel is full. It is the moment of the great fair, you +know." + +But we did not know. We knew of Leipzig Fair by sad experience, of +Bartholomew Fair by tradition, of the Fair of Novgorod by hearsay; but +of Morlaix Fair we had never heard. + +"What is the fair?" we asked, with a sinking heart. + +"The great Horse Fair," replied the station-master. "Surely you have +heard of it? No one ever visits Morlaix at the time of the fair unless +he comes to buy or sell horses." + +Having come neither to buy nor sell horses, we felt crushed, and hoped +for the deluge. I proposed to re-enter the train and let it take us +whither it would--it mattered not. H.C. calmly suggested suicide. + +"What is to be done?" he groaned. "The man refuses to take us to the +Hôtel d'Europe. He is not sober; it is useless to argue with him." + +"The fair again," laughed the official. "It is responsible for +everything just now, and Bretons are not the most sober people at the +best of times. Still, if you wish to go to the Hôtel d'Europe, the man +must take you. There is no other conveyance and he is bound to do so. +But I warn you that it will be full, or the omnibus would have been +here." + +Turning to the man, he threatened to report him, gave him his orders, +and said he should inquire on the morrow how they had been carried out. +We struggled into the omnibus, which was already fairly packed with men +who looked very much like horsedealers, the surly driver slammed the +door, and the station-master politely bowed us away. + +The curtain dropped upon Act I.; Comedy or Tragedy as the event might +prove. + +It soon threatened to be Tragedy. The omnibus tore down a steep hill as +if the horses as well as the driver had been indulging, swayed from side +to side and seemed every moment about to overturn. Now the passengers +were all thrown to the right of the vehicle, now to the left, and now +they all collided in the centre. The enraged driver was having his +revenge upon us, and we repented our boldness in trusting our lives in +his hands. But the sturdy Bretons accepted the situation so calmly that +we felt there must still be a chance of escape. + +So it proved. In due time it drew up at the Hôtel d'Europe with the +noise of an artillery waggon, and out came M. Hellard, the landlord. His +appearance, with his white hair and benevolent face, was sufficient to +recommend him, to begin with. We felt we had done wisely, and made known +our wants. + +"I am very sorry," he replied, "but, gentlemen, I am quite full. There +is not a vacant room in the hotel from roof to basement." + +"Put us anywhere," we persisted, for it would never do to be beaten at +last: "the coal-cellar; a couple of cupboards; anything; but don't send +us away." + +The landlord looked puzzled. He had a tall, fine presence and a handsome +face; not in the least like a Frenchman. "I assure you that I have +neither hole nor corner nor cupboard at your disposal," he declared. "I +have sent away a dozen people in the last hour who arrived by the last +train. Why did you not send me word you were coming?" + +"We are only two, not a dozen," we urged. "And we knew nothing of this +terrible Fair, or we should not have come at all. But as we are here, +here we must remain." + +With that we left the omnibus and went into the hall, enjoying the +landlord's perplexed attitude. But when did a case of this sort ever +fail to yield to persuasion? The last resource has very seldom been +reached, however much we may think it; and an emergency begets its own +remedy. The remedy in this instance was the landlady. Out she came at +the moment from her bureau, all gestures and possibilities; we felt +saved. + +"Mon cher," she exclaimed--not to H.C., but to her spouse--"don't send +the gentlemen away at this time of night, and consign them to you know +not what fate. Something can be managed. _Tenez_!" with uplifted hands +and an inspiration, "ma bouchère! Mon cher, ma bouchère!" (Voice, +exclamation, gesture, general inspiration, the whole essence would +evaporate if translated.) "Ma bouchère has two charming rooms that she +will be delighted to give me. It is only a cat's jump from here," she +added, turning to us; "you will be perfectly comfortable, and can take +your meals in the hotel. To-morrow I shall have rooms for you." + +So the luggage was brought down; the landlord went through a passage at +arms with the driver, who demanded double fare, and finally went off +with nothing but a promise of punishment. We had triumphed, and thought +our troubles were over: they had only begun. + +Our remaining earthly desire was for strong tea, followed by repose. We +had had very little sleep the previous night on board the boat, and the +day had been long and tiring. + +"The tea immediately; but you will have to wait a little for the rooms," +said Madame. "My bouchère is at the theatre to-night; we must all have a +little distraction sometimes; it will be over a short quarter of an +hour, and then I will send to her." + +Madame was evidently a woman of capacity. The short quarter of an hour +might be profitably spent in consuming the tea: after that--a delicious +prospect of rest, for which we longed as the Peri longed for Paradise. + +"Meanwhile, perhaps messieurs will walk into the café of the hotel, +awaiting their rooms," said the landlord. + +"Where tea shall be served," concluded Madame, giving directions to a +waiter who stood by, a perfect Image of Misery, his face tied up after +the fashion of the French nation suffering from toothache and a +_fluxion_. + +"But the fire is out in the kitchen," objected Misery, in the spirit of +Pierrot's friend. + +"Then let it be re-lighted," commanded Madame. "At such times as these, +the fire has not the right to be out." + +Monsieur marshalled us into the café, a large long room forming part of +the hotel; by no means the best waiting-place after a long and tiring +day. It was hot, blazing with gas, clouded with smoke--the usual French +smoke, worse than the worst of English tobacco. The room was crowded, +the noise pandemonium. Card playing occupied some tables, dominoes +others. The company was very much what might be expected at a Horse +Fair: loud, familiar, slightly inclined to be quarrelsome; no nerves. +Our host joined a card table, evidently taking up his game where our +arrival had interrupted it. He soon became absorbed and forgot our +existence; our hope was in Madame. + +[Illustration: MORLAIX.] + +We waited in patience; the short quarter of an hour developed into a +long half-hour, when tea arrived: small cups, small tea pot, usual +strainer, straw-coloured infusion; still, it just saved our reason. H.C. +felt that he should never write another line of poetry; the tobacco +fumes had taken an opium effect upon me, and I began to see visions and +imagined ourselves in Dante's Inferno. We looked with mild reproach at +the waiter. He quite understood; a guilty conscience needed no words; +and explained that the chef had let out the fire. As the chef was at +that moment in the café playing cards, as absorbed and excited as +anyone, no wonder that he had forgotten his ordinary duties. + +"And our rooms?" we asked. "Are they ready?" + +"The theatre is not yet over," replied the waiter. "Madame is on the +look-out. The play is extra long to-night in honour of the fair." + +That miserable fair! + +The tea revived us: it always does. "I feel less like expiring," +murmured H.C., with a tremulous sigh. "But this place is like a furnace +seven times heated, and the noise is pandemonium in revolt. What would +Lady Maria think of this? Why need that frivolous butcher-woman have +gone to the theatre to-night of all nights in the year? And why need all +these people have stayed away from it? Why is everything upside down and +cross and contrary? And why are we here at all?" + +H.C. was evidently on the verge of brain fever. + +We waited; there was nothing else for it. It was torture; but others +have been tortured before now; and some have survived, and some have +died of it. We felt that we should die of it. Half past eleven had come +and gone; midnight was about to strike. Oh that we had gone on with that +wretched omnibus, no matter what the end. Yes; it had come to that. + +At last human nature could bear it no longer: we appealed to the +landlord. He looked up from his game, flushed, startled and repentant. + +"What! have they not taken you to the bouchère!" he exclaimed. "Why the +theatre was over long ago, and no doubt everything is arranged. You +shall be conducted at once." + +Misery, looking himself more dead than alive (he informed us presently +in an access of confidence that he had had four teeth taken out that day +and felt none the better for it), was told off to act as guide, and +shouldering such baggage as we needed for the night, stepped forth. We +pitied him, he seemed so completely at the end of all things; and +feeling, by comparison, that there was a deeper depth of suffering than +our own, we revived. His name was not Misery, but André. + +Monsieur accompanied us to the door and wished us Good-night. Madame had +disappeared and was nowhere to be found; the lights were out in her +bureau. It looked very much as if she, too, had gone to bed and +forgotten us. "Cette chère dame is tired," said the sympathetic +landlord. "We really have no rest day or night at the time of the fair. +But you may depend upon it she has made it all right with her bouchère." + +So we departed in faith. It was impossible to be angry with Monsieur, +though we felt neglected. He was so unlike the ordinary run of landlords +that one could only repose confidence in him and overlook small +inattentions. He had a way of throwing himself into your interests, and +making them his own for the time being. But I fear that his memory was +very short. + +We departed with thanksgiving, and followed our guide. I cannot say that +we trod in his footsteps, for, too far gone to lift his feet bravely, he +merely shuffled along the pavement. With one hand he supported the +luggage on his shoulder; with the other he carried a candle, ostensibly +to light our pathway, in reality only complicating matters and the +darkness. As we turned round by the hotel, the clocks struck the +witching hour. H.C. shivered and looked about for ghosts. It was really +a very ghostly scene and atmosphere. In spite of the occasion of the +fair, the town was in repose. The theatre was long over; the extra +entertainment on account of the fair had been a mere invention of the +imaginative waiter's; people had very properly gone home to bed, and +lights were out. No noisy groups were abroad, making night hideous with +untimely revelry. + +We formed a strange procession. Our little guide slipped and shuffled, +hardly able to put one foot before the other. He wore house-slippers of +list or wool, and made scarcely any noise as he went along. Every now +and then he groaned in the agonies of toothache; and each time H.C. +shivered and looked back for the ghost. It was excusable, for the candle +threw weird shadows around, which flitted about like phantoms playing at +hide-and-seek. The night was so calm that the flame scarcely flickered. + +In spite of the darkness, we could see how picturesque was the old town, +and we longed for daylight. Against the dark background of sky the yet +darker outlines of the houses stood out mysteriously. We turned into a +narrow street where opposite neighbours might almost have shaken hands +with each other from the upper windows. Wonderful gabled roofs succeeded +each other in a long procession. There seemed not a vestige of anything +modern in the whole thoroughfare. We were in a scene of the Middle Ages, +back in those far-off days. + +Here and there a light shining in a room revealed a large latticed +window, running the whole width of the house. In spite of André's +fatigue and burden, we could only stand and gaze. No human power could +mesmerise us, but the window did so. + +What could be more startlingly weird and picturesque than the bright +reflection of these latticed panes, surrounded by this intense darkness, +these mysterious outlines? Almost we expected to see a ghostly vision +advance from the interior, and, opening the lattice with a skeleton +hand, ask our pleasure at thus invading their solitude at the witching +hour--for the vibration of the bells tolling midnight was still upon the +air, travelling into space, perhaps announcing to other worlds that to +us another day was dead, another day was born. + +But no ghost appeared. A very human figure, however, did so. It looked +down upon us for a moment, and mistaking our rapt gaze at the +antiquities--of which it did not form a part--for mere vulgar curiosity, +held up a reproving hand. Then, catching sight of H.C., it darted +forward, looked breathlessly into the night, and seemed also mesmerised +as by a revelation. + +We quietly went our way, leaving the spell to work itself out. Our +footsteps echoed in the silent night, with the running accompaniment of +a double-shuffle from Misery. No other sound broke the stillness; we +were absolutely alone with the ancient houses, the stars and the sky. It +might have been a Mediĉval City of the Dead, unpeopled since the days of +its youth. Our candle burned on in the hand of André; our reflections +danced and played about us: one hears of the Dance of Death--this was +the Dance of Ghosts--a natural sequence; ghostly shadows flitted out of +every doorway, down every turning. + +At last we emerged on to an open space, partly filled by a modern +building with a hideous roof, evidently the market place. Here we +ascended to a higher level. Ancient outlines still surrounded us, but +were interrupted by modern ones also. Square roofs and straight lines +broke the continuity of the picturesque gabled roofs and latticed +windows. Ichabod may be written upon the lintels of all that is ancient +and disappearing, all that is modern and hideous. The spirit and beauty +of the past are dead and buried. + +"We are almost there," said André, with a sigh that would have been +profound if he had had strength to make it so. "A few more yards and we +arrive." + +We too sighed with relief, though the midnight walk amidst these wonders +of a bygone age had proved refreshing and awakening. But we sympathised +with our guide, who was only kept up by necessity. + +We passed out of the market place again into a narrow street, dark, +silent and gloomy. At the third or fourth house, André exclaimed "Nous +voilà!" and down went the baggage like a dead-weight in front of a +closed doorway. + +The house was in darkness: no sight or sound could be seen or heard; +everyone seemed wrapped in slumber; a strange condition of things if we +were expected. The man rang the bell: a loud, long peal. No response; no +light, no movement; profound silence. + +"C'est drôle!" he murmured. "The theatre" (that everlasting theatre!) +"has been long over and Madame must have returned. Where can she be?" + +"Probably in bed," replied H.C. "We have little chance of following her +excellent example if this is to go on. There must be some mistake, and +we are not expected." + +"Impossible," returned André. "La Patrone never forgets anything and +must have arranged it all." He, too, had unlimited confidence in Madame, +but for once it was misplaced. + +[Illustration: GRANDE RUE, MORLAIX.] + +Not only the house, but the whole street was in darkness. Not the ghost +of a glimmer appeared from any window or doorway; not a gas-light from +end to end. Oil lamps ought to have been slung across from house to +house to keep up the character of the thoroughfare; but here, +apparently, consistency was less thought of than economy. We looked and +looked, every moment expecting a cloaked watchman to appear, with +lantern casting weird flashes around and a sepulchral voice calling the +hour and the weather. But _Il Sereno_ of Majorca had no counterpart in +Morlaix; the darkness, silence and solitude remained unbroken. + +We were the sole group of humanity visible, and must have appeared +singular as the still flaring candle lighted up our faces, pale and +anxious from fatigue, threw out in huge proportions the head of our +guide, bound up as if prepared for the grave for which he was fast +qualifying. + +After a time Misery gave another peal at the bell, and, borrowing a +stick, drummed a tattoo upon the door that might have waked the departed +Mediĉvals. This at length brought forth fruit. + +A latticed window was opened, a white figure appeared, a nightcapped +head was put forth without ceremony, a feminine voice, sleepy and +indignant, demanded who thus disturbed the sacred silence of the night. + +"The gentlemen are here," said André, mildly. "Come down and open the +door. A pretty reception this, for tired travellers." + +"What gentlemen?" asked the voice, which belonged to no less a person +than Madame la bouchère herself. + +"Parbleu! why the gentlemen you are expecting. The gentlemen la Patrone +sent to you about and that you agreed to lodge for the night." + +"André--I know your voice, though I cannot see your form--you have been +taking too much, and to-morrow I shall complain to Madame Hellard. How +dare you wake quiet people out of their first sleep?" + +"First sleep! Has la bouchère not been to the theatre?" + +"Theatre, you good-for-nothing! Do I ever join in such frivolities? I +have been in bed and asleep ever since ten o'clock--where you ought to +be at this hour of the night." + +"But la Patrone sent to engage rooms for these gentlemen and you +promised to give them. They have come. Open the door. We cannot stay +here till daybreak." + +"You will stay there till doomsday if it depends on my opening to you. +La Patrone never sent and I never promised. I have only one small empty +bed in my house, and in the other bed in the same room two of my boys +are sleeping. I am very sorry for the gentlemen. My compliments to la +Patrone, and before sending gentlemen to me at midnight, she ought to +find out if I can accommodate them. Good-night to you, and let us have +no more rioting and bell-ringing." + +The nightcapped head was withdrawn, the lattice was sharply closed, and +we were left to make the best of the situation. + +It was serious: nearly one in the morning, the whole town slumbering, +and we "homeless, ragged, and tanned." + +To remain was useless. Not all the ringing and rowing in the world would +bring forth Madame again, though it might possibly produce her avenging +spouse. André shouldered his baggage and we began to retrace our steps. + +"Back to the hotel," commanded H.C.; "they must put us up somewhere." + +"Not a hole or corner unoccupied," groaned André. "You can't sleep in +the bread oven. And they will all have gone to bed by the time we get +back again." + +Suddenly he halted before a house at the corner of the marketplace. It +looked little better than a common cabaret, and was also closed and +dark. Down went the luggage, as he knocked mysteriously at the shutters. + +"What are you doing?" we said. "You don't suppose that we would put up +here even for an hour." + +"It is clean and respectable," objected André. "Messieurs cannot walk +the streets till morning." + +A door was as mysteriously opened, leading into a room. A couple of +candles were burning at a table, round which some rough-looking men were +seated, drinking and playing cards, but keeping silence. It looked +suspicious and uninviting. + +"In fact we might be murdered here," shuddered H.C.: "most certainly we +should be robbed." + +André made his request: could they give us lodgment? + +"Not so much as a chair or a bench," answered the woman, to our relief; +for though we should never have entered, André might have disappeared +with the baggage and given us some trouble. He evidently had all the +obstinacy of the Breton about him, and was growing desperate. The door +was closed again without ceremony, and once more we were left to make +the best of it. + +This time we took the lead and made for the hotel. Again we passed +through the wonderful street with the overhanging eaves and gables. +Again we paused and lingered, lost in admiration. But the light had +departed from the latticed window, and no doubt in dreams the Fair One +was beholding again the vision of H.C. + +A few minutes more and we stood before the hotel. They were just closing +the doors. Monsieur Hellard was crossing the passage at the moment. +Never shall I forget his consternation. He raised his hands, and his +hair stood on end. + +"What's the matter?" he cried. + +"Matter enough," replied André taking up the parable. "Madame never sent +to the bouchère, and the bouchère has no room. And I think"--despair +giving him courage--"it was too bad to give us a wild goose chase at +this time of night." + +"And now you must do your best and put us where you can," I concluded. +"We are too tired to stir another step." + +"I haven't where to lodge a cat," returned the perplexed landlord. "I +cannot do impossibilities. What on earth are we to manufacture?" + +"You have a salon?" + +"Comme de juste!" + +"Is it occupied?" + +"No; but there are no beds there. It stands to reason." + +"Then put down two mattresses on the floor, and we will make the best of +them for to-night. And the sooner you allow us to repose our weary +heads, the more grateful we shall be. It is nearly one o'clock." + +Monsieur seemed convinced, and gave the word of command which sent two +or three waiters flying. Poor André was one of them; but we soon +discovered that he was the most willing and obliging man in the world. + +Even now everything was mismanaged and had to be done over again; a +wordy war ensued between landlord, waiters and chambermaids, each one +having an original idea for our comfort and wanting their own way. The +small Bedlam that went on would have been diverting at any other time. +It was very nearly two o'clock before we closed the door upon the world, +and felt that something like peace and repose lay before us. + +The room was not uncomfortable. It had all the stiff luxuriance of a +French salon, and a gilt clock on the mantelpiece ticked loudly and rang +out the hours--too many of which, alas, we heard. On the table were the +remains of a dessert, evidently hastily brought in from the table d'hôte +room, which communicated with this by folding doors: dishes of biscuits, +raisins and luscious grapes. + +"At least we can refresh ourselves," sighed H.C., taking up a fine bunch +and offering me another, "Nectar in its primitive state; the drink of +the gods." + +"And of Poets," I added. + +"Talk not of poetry," he cried. "I feel that my vein has evaporated, and +after to-night will never return." + +Very soon, you may be sure, the room was in darkness and repose. + +"The inequalities of the earth's surface are nothing to my bed," groaned +H.C. as he laid himself down. "It is all hills and valleys. I think they +must have put the mattress upon all the brooms and brushes of the hotel, +crossed by all the fire-irons. And that wretched clock ticks on my brain +like a sledge-hammer. I shall not be alive by morning." + +"Have you made your will?" + +"Yes," he replied; "and left you my museum, my shooting-box, all my +unpublished MSS. and the care of my ĉsthetic aunt, Lady Maria. You will +not find her troublesome; she lives on crystallised violets and barley +water." + +"Mixed blessings," I thought, but was too polite to say so. It must have +been my last thought, for I remembered no more until the clock awoke me, +striking four; and woke me again, striking six; after which sleep +finally fled. + +Soon the town also awoke; doors slammed and echoed; omnibuses and other +vehicles rattled over the stones; voices seemed to fill the air; the +streets echoed with foot-passengers. The sun was shining gloriously and +we threw open the windows to the new day and the fresh breeze, and took +our first look at Morlaix by daylight. Already we felt braced and +exhilarated as we took in deep draughts of oxygen. + +[Illustration: MARKET PLACE, MORLAIX.] + +It was a lively scene. The Square close by was surrounded by gabled +houses, and houses not gabled: a mixture of Ancient and Modern. That it +should be all old was too much to expect, excepting from such sleepy old +towns as Vitré or Nuremberg, where you have unbroken outlines, a +mediĉval picture unspoilt by modern barbarities; may dream and fancy +yourself far back in the ages, and find it difficult indeed to realise +that you are really not in the fifteenth but in the nineteenth century. + +The streets were already beginning to be gay and animated; there was a +look of expectancy and mild excitement on many faces, announcing that +something unusual was going on. It was fair time and fête time; and even +these stolid, sober people were stirred into something like laughter and +enjoyment. Fair Normandy has a good deal of the vivacity of the French; +but Graver Brittany, like England, loves to take its pleasures somewhat +sadly. + +It was a lovely morning. Before us, and beyond the square, stretched the +heights of Morlaix, green and fertile, fruit and flower-laden. To our +left towered the great viaduct, over which the train rolls, depositing +its passengers far, far above the tops of the houses, far above the +tallest steeple. It was a very striking picture, and H.C. shouted for +joy and felt the muse rekindling within him. Upon all shone the glorious +sun, above all was the glorious sky, blue, liquid and almost tangible, +as only foreign skies can be. The fatigues of yesterday, the terrible +adventures of the past night, all were forgotten. Nay, that midnight +expedition was remembered with intense pleasure. All that was +uncomfortable about it had evaporated; nothing remained but a vision +wonderfully unusual, weird, picturesque: grand old-world outlines +standing out in the surrounding darkness; a small procession of three; a +flickering candle throwing out ghostly lights and shadows; a willing but +unhappy waiter dying of exhaustion and pain; a curious figure of Misery +in which there certainly was nothing picturesque, but much to arouse +one's pity and sympathy--the better, diviner part of one's nature. + +"Hurrah for a new day!" cried H.C., turning from the window and +hastening to beautify and adorn. "New scenes, new people, new +impressions! Oh, this glorious world! the delight of living!" + + + + +WHO WAS THE THIRD MAID? + + +It was on a wild October evening about a year ago that my wife and I +arrived by train at a well-known watering-place in the North of England. +The wind was howling and roaring with delight at its resistless power; +the rain came hissing down in large drops. + +On yonder headland doubtless might be heard "The Whistling Woman"--dread +harbinger of death and disaster to the mariner. The gale had been hourly +increasing in violence, till for the last hour before arriving at our +destination we had momentarily expected that the train would be blown +from the track. Our hotel was situated on an eminence overlooking the +town; and as we slowly ascended to it in our cab we thought: "Well, we +must not be surprised to find our intended abode for the night has +vanished." + +However, presently we stopped in front of a building which looked +substantial enough to withstand anything; and in answer to our driver's +application to the bell, the door was promptly opened by a +smartly-attired porter. He was closely followed by a person full of +smiles and bows, who posted himself in the doorway ready to receive us. + +All at once there was a terrific bang, as though a forty-pounder had +been fired to welcome our arrival; and he of the smiles and bows was +hurled headlong against the muddy wheel of our conveyance by the +slamming-to of the large door. My wife's bonnet blew off and tugged hard +at its moorings; the light in the porch was extinguished; while the wind +seemed to give a shriek of triumph at the jokes he was playing upon us. +Here we were, then, in total darkness and exposed to the drenching rain. +However, half-an-hour afterwards all our discomforts were forgotten as +we sat down to an excellent dinner à la carte. + +Next morning I was abroad very early, looking for lodgings. Fortune +seemed to smile upon me on this occasion; for scarcely had I proceeded +fifty yards from my hotel when I came upon a very nice-looking row of +houses, and in the window of the first was "Lodgings to let." Knocking +at the door, it was soon opened by a very neat-looking maid. + +I inquired if I could see the proprietor, but was told that Miss G. was +not yet down. I said I would wait; and was shown into a very +comfortably-furnished dining-room. Soon Miss G. appeared, and proved to +be a pretty brunette of about five-and-twenty, whose dark eyes during +our short interview were every now and then fixed on me with an +intentness that seemed to be trying to read what kind of person I was; +whilst her manner, though decidedly pleasing, had a certain restlessness +in it which I could not help observing. Her father and mother being +both dead, she kept the lodging-house herself. I asked her if she had a +good cook, to which she replied that she was responsible for most of +that difficult part of the ménage herself, keeping two maids to assist +in the house and parlour work. She went on to say that her drawing-room +was "dissected:" a term common amongst north country lodging-house +keepers, and meant to express that it was undergoing its autumn +cleaning, but she would have it put straight if I wished. I told her +that we should be quite contented with the dining-room, provided we had +a good bed-room. This she at once showed me, and, soon coming to terms, +I returned to the hotel. + +After breakfast, I went to the bureau to ask for my account. Whilst it +was being made out, I observed casually that I had taken lodgings at +Miss G.'s on Cliff Terrace, upon which the accountant looked quickly up +and said: "Oh, Miss G.'s," and then as quickly went on with my bill. I +hardly noticed this at the moment, though I thought of it afterwards. + +Eleven o'clock saw us comfortably ensconced in our rooms. After lunch, +we took a delightful expedition, the weather having greatly moderated. +We found that night, at dinner, that Miss G. was a first-rate cook, and +we retired to rest much pleased with our quarters. + +We soon made the acquaintance of the two maids, Jane, who waited upon +us, and Mary, the housemaid; and two very pleasant and obliging young +women we found them. + +About the third morning of our stay, on going up to my bed-room after +breakfast, I was surprised to find a strange maid in the room. She was +standing by the bed, smoothing down the bed-clothes with both hands and +appeared to take no notice of me, but continued gazing steadily in front +of her, while her hands went mechanically on smoothing the clothes. I +could not help being struck with her pale face, which wore a look of +pain, and the fixed and almost stony expression of her eyes. I left her +in exactly the same position as I found her. On coming down I said to my +wife: "I did not know Miss G. employed three servants. There certainly +is another making the bed in our room." I am short-sighted, and my wife +would have it I had made a mistake; but I felt quite certain I had not. +Later on, whilst Jane was laying the lunch, I said to her: "I thought +that you and Mary were the only two servants in the house." + +"Yes, sir, only me and Mary," was Jane's reply, as she left the room. + +"There," said my wife, "I told you that you were mistaken." And I did +not pursue the subject further. + +Two or three days slipped away in pleasant occupations, such as driving, +boating, etc., and we had forgotten all about the third maid. We saw but +little of Miss G., though her handiwork was pleasantly apparent in the +cuisine. + +On the sixth morning of our stay, which was the day before we were to +leave, my wife after breakfast said she would go up and do a little +packing whilst I made out our route for the following day in the +Bradshaw; but was soon interrupted by the return of my wife with a +rather scared look on her face. + +"Well," she said, "you were right after all, for there is another maid, +and she is now in our bed-room, and apparently engaged in much the same +occupation as when you saw her there. She took no notice of me, but +stood there with her body slightly bent over the bed, looking straight +in front of her, her hands smoothing the bed-clothes." She described her +as having dark hair, her face very pale, and her mouth very firmly set. +My curiosity was now so much awakened that I determined to question Miss +G. on the subject. But our carriage was now at the door waiting for us +to start on an expedition that would engage us all day. + +On my return, late in the afternoon, meeting Miss G. in the passage, I +said to her: "Who is the third servant that Mrs. K. and myself have seen +once or twice in our bed-room?" + +Miss G. looked, I thought, rather scared, and, murmuring something that +I could not catch, turned and went hurriedly down the stairs into the +kitchen. + +An hour afterwards, as we were sitting waiting for our dinner, Jane +brought a note from Miss G. enclosing her account, and saying that she +had just had a telegram summoning her to the sick-bed of a relation, +that in all probability she would not be back till after our departure, +but that she had left directions with the servants, and hoped they would +make us quite comfortable, and that we would excuse her hurried +departure. + +A few minutes after, a cab drove up to the door, into which, from our +window, we saw Miss G. get, and drive rapidly away. + +Later on in the evening, whilst Jane was clearing away the dinner +things, I said to her: "By-the-by, Jane, who is the third maid?" She was +just going to leave the room as I spoke; instead of replying she turned +round with such a scared look on her face that I felt quite alarmed, +then, hurriedly catching up her tray, she left the room. Thinking that +further inquiry would be very disagreeable to her, I forbore again +mentioning the subject. Next day, our week being up, we departed for +fresh woods and pastures new. + + * * * * * + +Our tour led us considerably further north, but a month later saw us +homeward bound. The nearest route by rail led us by X. As we drew up at +the station we noticed on the platform a parson, in whom we recognised +one of the clergy of X., whose church we had been to. Presently the door +of our compartment was opened and he put in a lady, wished her good-bye, +the guard's whistle blew and we were off. After a short time we fell +into conversation with the lady and found her to be the clergyman's +wife. Amongst other things, we asked after Miss G. + +"Oh, Miss G.," she replied; "she is very well, but I hear, poor thing, +she has not had a very good season." + +"I am sorry to hear that," I replied; "why is it?" She was silent for a +minute and then related to us the following facts. + +At the beginning of the season a rather untoward event occurred at Miss +G.'s lodgings. An elderly lady took one of the flats for a month. She +had with her an attendant of about thirty. Before long Miss G. observed +that they were not on very good terms, and one morning the old lady was +found dead in her bed. + +A doctor was at once called in, who, on viewing the body, found there +were very suspicious marks round the neck and throat, as if a person's +fingers had been tightly pressed upon them. The maid on hearing this at +once became very restless, and going to her bed-room, which was at the +top of the house, packed a small bag and, having put on her things, was +about to descend the stairs when, from hurry or agitation, she missed +her footing and, falling to the bottom, broke her neck. + +But not the least extraordinary part of the business was that not the +slightest clue could be obtained as to who the lady was, the linen of +herself and her maid having only initials marked on it. The police did +their best by advertising and inquiry, but all they could find out was +that they had come straight to X. from Liverpool, where they had arrived +from America. There they were traced to Fifth Avenue Hotel, in New York, +where they had been only known by the number of their room, and to which +they had come from no one knew whither. Enough money was found in the +lady's box to pay the expenses of their funerals. An open verdict was +returned at the inquests which were held. The police took possession of +their belongings and had them, no doubt, at the present moment. + +At this point the train stopped, the lady wished us "Good-morning" and +left the carriage; and we, as we steamed south, were left to meditate on +this strange but perfectly true story and to solve as we best could the +still unanswered question of "Who was the third maid?" + + + + +A MODERN WITCH. + + +I. + +Never shall I forget my first meeting with Irene Latouche. After +travelling all day, I had arrived at my friend Maitland's house to find +that dinner had been over for at least an hour. Having taken the +precaution of dining during the journey this did not affect me very +materially; but my kindly host, who met me in the hall, took it very +much to heart. + +"We quite gave you up, my dear fellow, we did indeed," he reiterated, +grasping my hand with additional fervour each time he made the +assertion. "My wife will be so vexed at your missing dinner. You are +sure you won't have a bit now? Such a haunch of venison, hung to a turn! +One of old Ward's. You know he has taken Glen Bogie this season, and is +having rare sport, I am told. Ah, well, if you really won't take +anything, we had better join the ladies in the drawing-room." + +"But the luggage hasn't come from the station yet," I interposed, "and +my dress clothes are in my portmanteau--" + +"Nonsense about dress clothes! It will be bed-time soon. You don't +suppose anybody cares what you have on, do you?" + +With this comforting assurance, Maitland pushed open the drawing-room +door, and a flood of light streamed out into the hall. Dazzled by the +sudden glare I stepped back, but not before I had caught sight of a most +striking figure at the further end of the long room. + +"Who on earth is that girl?" I whispered. + +"Which? Oh, the one playing the harp, you mean? I might have known that! +A rare beauty, isn't she? I thought you would find her out pretty soon!" + +Now I am a middle-aged bachelor of quiet tastes, and nothing annoys me +more than when my friends poke ponderous fun at me in this fashion. So, +ignoring Maitland's facetious suggestion, I calmly walked forward and +shook hands with my hostess. She greeted me with her customary +cordiality, and in about two minutes I was feeling perfectly at home in +spite of my dusty clothes. I now had an opportunity of examining the +other guests, who were dispersed in groups about the room. Most of them +were people I had frequently met before under the Maitlands' hospitable +roof, but the face which had first arrested my attention was that of an +absolute stranger. + +"I see you are admiring Miss Latouche, like the rest of us," said Mrs. +Maitland in a low voice. "Such a talented girl! She can play positively +any kind of instrument, and has persuaded me to have the old harp taken +out of the lumber-room and put in order for her. She looks so well +playing it, doesn't she? Quite like Cleopatra or the Queen of Sheba!" + +"She is undoubtedly handsome in a certain style," I replied cautiously. +"I don't know whether I admire such a gipsy type myself--" + +"Ah, you agree with me then," interrupted my hostess eagerly. "I call it +an uncomfortable sort of beauty for a drawing-room. She always looks as +if she might produce a dagger at a moment's notice, as the people do in +operas. Give me a nice simple girl with a pretty English face, like my +niece Lily Wallace over there! But I am bound to say Miss Latouche makes +a great sensation wherever she goes. Of course she has wonderful +powers." + +I was about to inquire in what these powers consisted, when Mrs. +Maitland was called away. Left to myself, I could not repress a smile at +the comparison she had instituted between her own niece and the +beautiful stranger. Lily was well enough, a good-tempered pink and white +girl, who in twenty years' time would develop into just such another +florid matron as her aunt. And then I looked again at Miss Latouche. + +She was seated a little apart from the rest, one white arm hanging +listlessly over the harp upon which she had just been playing. Her large +dark eyes had a far-away look of utter abstraction from all sub-lunary +matters that I have never seen in anyone besides. Masses of wavy black +hair were loosely coiled over her head, round a high Spanish comb, and +half concealed her brow in a dusky cloud. At first sight the black +velvet dress, which swept around her in heavy folds, seemed rather an +unsuitable costume for so young a girl. But its sombreness was relieved +by a gorgeous Indian scarf, thrown carelessly over the shoulders. I do +not know who was responsible for Miss Latouche's get-up, or if she +really required an extra wrap. At any rate, the combination of colours +was very effective. + +Whilst I was speculating vaguely on the probable character of this +striking young lady, she slowly rose from her low seat and crossed the +room. Her eyes were wide open, but apparently fixed on space, and she +moved with the slow, mechanical motion of a sleepwalker. To my intense +surprise she came straight towards me, and stood in an expectant +attitude about a yard from where I was sitting. Not knowing exactly how +to receive this advance, I jumped up and offered her my chair. She waved +it aside with a gesture of imperial scorn. Her dark eyes positively +flashed fire, and a rich glow flushed her pale olive cheek. I could see +that I had deeply offended her. + +"I must apologise," I began nervously, "but I thought you might be +tired." + +Before the words were fairly spoken, I realised the full imbecility of +this remark. My only excuse for making such a fatuous observation was +that the near vicinity of this weird beauty had paralysed my reasoning +faculties, so that I hardly knew what I was saying. And then she spoke +in a low, rich voice which thrilled me through every nerve. I could not +understand the meaning of her words, or even recognise the language in +which they were spoken. But the tone of her voice was unutterably sad, +like an inarticulate wail of despair. All the time her glorious eyes +were resting on me as if she would read my inmost thoughts, whilst I +responded with an idiotic smile of embarrassment. Even now, after the +lapse of years, it makes me hot all over to think of that moment. + +I don't know how long I had been standing looking like a fool, when Miss +Latouche turned away as abruptly as she had approached and walked +straight to the door. With a sigh of relief I sank down on the despised +chair. After a few moments I gained sufficient courage to glance round +and assure myself that no spectators had witnessed my discomfiture. It +was a great relief to find that the entire party had migrated to the +further end of the room, where a funny little man was singing comic +songs with a banjo accompaniment. I slipped in next my host, who was +thoroughly enjoying the performance. + +"Encore! Capital! Give us some more of it, Tommy," he roared when the +song came to an end. "That's my sort of music, isn't it yours, Carew?" +he added, turning to me. + +"A very clever performance," I answered stiffly, divided between my +natural abhorrence of comic songs and the difficulty of making a candid +reply in the immediate vicinity of the funny man. + +"Just so. That's what I call really clever," said Maitland, not +perceiving my lack of enthusiasm. "Worth a dozen of those melancholy +tunes on the harp, in my opinion. By-the-bye, what's become of Miss +Latouche? Couldn't stand this sort of thing, I suppose. Too merry for +her. What a pity such a handsome girl should mope so." + +"Miss Latouche appears to be rather eccentric," I interposed. "Something +of a genius, I imagine?" + +"So they all say. Well, she is a clever girl, certainly--only--but you +will soon find out what she is like. Here's Tommy going to give us that +capital song about the bad cigar. Ever heard it? No? Ha! ha! It will +make you laugh then." + +That is just what I hate about a comic performance. One laughs under +compulsion. If one is sufficiently independent to resist, one incurs the +suspicion of being wanting in humour and some well-meaning friend feels +bound to explain the joke until one forces a little hollow mirth. +Directly the song was in full swing, and the audience convulsed with +merriment, I seized my opportunity and fled from the drawing-room. In +the library I knew by experience that I should find a good fire and a +comfortable arm-chair, both of which would be acceptable after my long +journey. It was separated from the rest of the house by a heavy baize +door and a long passage, so that I was not likely to be disturbed by +any stray revellers. Several years' experience of the comforts of a +bachelor establishment has given me a great taste for my own society, +and it was with unfeigned delight that I looked forward to a quiet +half-hour in this haven of refuge. + +"Bother Maitland! Why doesn't he have the house better warmed and +lighted," I muttered, as the baize door swung behind me, and the sudden +draught extinguished my candle. I would not go back to relight it for +fear of encountering some officious friend in the hall, who would insist +upon accompanying me into my retreat. I preferred groping my way down +the long corridor, which was in darkness except for a bright streak of +moonlight that streamed in through a window at the further end. I had +just decided that it was my plain duty to give Maitland the address of a +good shop where he could not only procure cheap lamps but also very +serviceable stoves for warming passages, at a moderate price, when I +discovered that the said window was open. + +"Too bad of the servants," I thought; "I should discharge them all if +they were mine. It quite accounts for the howling draught through the +house. Just the thing to give one rheumatism at this time of year." + +Advancing with the intention of excluding the chilly blast, I was +suddenly arrested by the sight of a motionless figure kneeling in front +of the window. It was Irene Latouche. I had not noticed her in the +confusing patch of moonlight until my foot was almost on the heavy +velvet dress which fell over the floor like a great dark pall. Her arms +were resting on the window-sill, her beautiful pale face gazing upwards +with an expression of agonised despair. Evidently she was quite +unconscious of my presence. + +Whilst I was turning over in my mind the possibility of beating a silent +retreat, she gave a low groan, so full of unquenchable pain that my +blood fairly ran cold. Then rising to her feet, she leaned far out into +the chill night air, stretching her white arms up towards the stars with +a passionate action of entreaty. + +"Oh, my Beloved! Shall I ever pray in vain? Is there no mercy?" she +cried, and the sound of her voice was like the wind moaning through +rocky caverns. "My heart is breaking! My strength is almost at an end! +How much longer must I suffer this unspeakable misery?" + +Clearly this sort of thing was not intended for strangers. I stopped my +ears and shrank as closely as I could into the shadow of the wall. But I +could not take my eyes off the girl for a moment. Such an exhibition of +wild passion I have never witnessed before or since. As a dramatic +effort it was superb; but all the time I was distinctly conscious of the +absurd figure I should cut if any third person came on the scene. Also +certain warning twinges in my left shoulder reminded me that I was not +in the habit of standing by open windows on bleak autumn nights. Why +Miss Latouche did not catch her death of cold I cannot imagine; for I +could see the wind disordering her dark masses of hair and blowing back +the Indian scarf from her bare shoulders. But she appeared to be as +indifferent to personal discomfort as she was to all external sounds. + +Just as I had settled that my health would never survive such a wanton +infringement of all sanitary laws, Irene again sank on her knees and +buried her face in her hands. Now was my time. I crept noiselessly back +up the corridor until my hand was actually on the baize door. Then +excitement got the better of prudence; and, tearing it open, I rushed +wildly across the hall and up the staircase, never pausing until I was +safe in my own room, with the door locked behind me and the unlighted +bed-room candle still clutched firmly in my hand. + + +II. + +Now, having already mentioned that I am a person of regular and strictly +conventional habits, it will be readily believed that I viewed these +extraordinary proceedings with unmitigated disgust. It was not to +encounter horrid experiences like this that I had left my comfortable +town house, where draughts and midnight adventures were alike unknown. +Before I came down to breakfast on the following morning, I had +fabricated a long story about pressing business which necessitated my +immediate return to town. Though ordinarily of a truthful disposition, I +was prepared to solemnly aver that the success of an important lawsuit +depended on my presence in London within the next twelve hours. I did +not even shrink from the prospect of having to produce circumstantial +evidence to convince Maitland of the truth of my assertion. Anything +rather than undergo any further shocks to my nervous system. + +Happily I was spared the necessity of perjuring myself to this extent. +When the breakfast bell rang, I descended and found that as usual very +few of the guests, had obeyed the summons. Mrs. Maitland was pouring out +tea quite undisturbed by this irregularity, for Longacres is a house +where attendance at the meals is never compulsory. + +"And how have you slept?" she said, extending me a plump hand glittering +with rings. "We were afraid that perhaps you were a little overtired +last night, as you went off to bed in the middle of the singing. +Capital, wasn't it? Mr. Tucker is so very funny, and never in the least +vulgar with his jokes! Now some comic singers really forget that there +are girls in the room.--(Lily, my love, just go and see if your uncle is +coming down).--I assure you, Mr. Carew, I was staying in a country house +last year--mind, I give no names--where the songs were only fit for a +music-hall! It's perfectly true; even George said it made him feel quite +red to hear such things in a drawing-room. But, as I was saying, Mr. +Tucker is so different; such genuine humour, you know!" + +It is impossible to conjecture how long my amiable hostess might have +rippled on in this strain if our conversation had not been interrupted +by the entry of Miss Latouche. + +"You have been introduced?" whispered Mrs. Maitland; and, without +waiting for an answer, she called out merrily: "My dear Irene, you must +positively come and entertain Mr. Carew. He will give up early rising if +he finds that it is always to mean a tête-à-tête with an old woman!" + +To my intense astonishment, Miss Latouche replied in the same jesting +tone, and taking the vacant seat next mine began at once to talk in the +most friendly way imaginable. Not a trace of eccentricity was +perceptible in her manner. She was merely a handsome girl, with a strong +vein of originality. I began to doubt the evidence of my senses. Surely +I must have been labouring under some hallucination the previous night. +It was almost easier to believe that I had been the dupe of a portentous +nightmare than that this charming girl should have enacted such a +strange part. + +Before the end of breakfast I was certain that I had taken a very +exaggerated view of the situation. It would be a pity to cut short a +pleasant visit and risk offending some of my oldest friends on such +purely fanciful grounds. Besides, I just remembered that I had given my +cook a holiday and that if I went home I should be dependent on the +culinary skill of a charwoman. This last consideration determined me. I +settled to stay. + +Nothing in Miss Latouche's behaviour led me to regret my decision. On +the contrary, at the end of a few days we were firm friends. The better +I knew her the greater became my admiration of her beauty and talents; +and, without vanity, I think I may say that she distinctly preferred me +to the other guests, who were mostly very ordinary types of modern young +men. The extraordinary impressions of the first evening had entirely +faded from my mind, when they were suddenly revived in all their +intensity by the following incident. + +It was a wet morning and we were all lolling about the billiard-room in +various stages of boredom. Some of the more energetic members of the +party had been out at dawn, cub hunting, and had returned wet through +just as we finished breakfast, in time to add their little quota of +grumbling to the general bulk of discontent. Mrs. Maitland, after making +a fruitless attempt to rally the spirits of the party, gave up the +effort in despair and retired to write letters in her room. Conversation +was carried on in fits and starts, whilst from time to time people +knocked about the billiard balls in a desultory fashion without +exhibiting even a show of interest in the result of the game. + +At last someone introduced the subject of fortune-telling. Instantly +there was a revival of interest. Everybody had some scrap of experience +to contribute, or some marvellous story to relate. Only Miss Latouche +remained silent. + +"What a pity none of us can tell fortunes!" cried Lily Wallace, eagerly. +"Won't anybody try? It's such fun, almost as amusing as turning tables, +and it often comes true in the most wonderful way!" + +"Ah, it does indeed!" sighed Mr. Tucker, with a countenance of +preternatural gravity. "A poor fellow I know was told that he would +marry and then die. Well, it's all coming true!" + +"Indeed! Really! How very shocking!" + +"Yes, indeed! Poor chap! He married last year and now he has nothing but +death before him!" + +"How awfully sad!" exclaimed Lily, sympathetically. "Why, you are +smiling! Oh, you bad man. I do believe you were only laughing at me +after all! Now, Irene, will you please tell Mr. Tucker's fortune, and +show him that it is no joking matter? I am sure you know the way, +because I have seen a mysterious book about palmistry in your room. Now +do, there's a dear girl." + +After a little more pressing, Miss Latouche acceded to the general +request that she would show her skill. Several people pressed forward at +once to have their fortunes told, the men being quite as eager as the +girls, although they affected to laugh at the whole affair. I watched +the exhibition with some interest. Surely here would be a fair field for +the exercise of that wonderful dramatic power which I knew Miss Latouche +held in reserve. Well, I was disappointed. She examined the hands +submitted to her notice, and interpreted the lines with an amount of +conscientious commonplaceness for which I should never have given her +credit. The majority of the fortunes were composed of the conventional +mixture of illnesses and love affairs which is the stock-in-trade of +drawing-room magicians. I glanced at her face. Not a trace of enthusiasm +was visible. She was telling fortunes as mechanically as a cottager +knits stockings. + +"Now we have all been done except Mr. Carew! It's his turn!" cried Lily, +who was enjoying the whole thing immensely. "He must have his fortune +told! You will do him next, won't you, Irene?" + +"Never!" + +"Oh, why not? Are you tired? What a pity!" + +Miss Latouche took not the slightest notice of the chorus of +protestations. She merely turned away with such an air of inflexible +determination that even the ardent Lily refrained from pressing her any +further. + +My curiosity was considerably excited by finding myself an exception to +the general rule. Was the inference to be drawn from Miss Latouche's +behaviour flattering, or the reverse? I had no chance of finding out +until late in the afternoon, when the rain ceased and we all gladly +seized the opportunity of getting some exercise before dinner. + +The different members of the party quickly dispersed in opposite +directions. A few exceptionally active young people tried to make up for +lost time by starting a game of tennis on the cinder courts. Some +diverged towards the stables, others took a brisk constitutional up and +down the gravel path. Under the pretence of lighting a cigar, I +contrived to wait about near the door until I saw Miss Latouche crossing +the hall. I remember thinking how wonderfully handsome she looked as she +came forward with a crimson shawl thrown over her head--for it was one +of her peculiarities never to wear a conventional hat or bonnet unless +absolutely obliged. + +"What do you say to going up the hill on the chance of seeing a fine +sunset?" I said, as she joined me. She nodded assent, and turning away +from the others, we began to climb a winding path, from the top of which +there was supposed to be a wonderful view. When we had gone about a +quarter of a mile, we stopped and looked round. Far out in front +stretched a beautiful valley lighted by gleams of fitful sunshine. The +house and garden lay at our feet, but so far below that we only +occasionally heard a faint echo from the tennis courts. The moment +seemed propitious. + +"Miss Latouche," I said abruptly, "I want to ask you something." + +No sooner were the words spoken than it struck me they were liable to be +misunderstood. She might imagine that I intended to make her an offer, +and accept me on the spot. Infinitely as I admired her in an abstract +fashion, I had never contemplated matrimony for a moment. Visions of +enraged male relatives armed with horse-whips, followed by a formidable +breach of promise case, flitted through my mind. There was no time to be +lost. + +"It's only about the fortune-telling," I stammered out; "nothing else, I +assure you--nothing at all!" + +"I knew it," replied Miss Latouche calmly and without a trace of +embarrassment. + +Sensible girl! I breathed freely once more and proceeded with my +investigations. + +"Why wouldn't you tell my fortune this morning? Why am I alone +excluded?" + +"Do you really wish to know?" she said very quietly. + +"Of course, or I shouldn't ask!" + +"Well then, the reason that I declined to tamper with _your_ destiny is +that I should be irresistibly compelled to tell _you_ the truth!" + +"Are you serious, or only--?" + +"Am I serious?" she cried, with a wild laugh; "_you_ ask this? The time +has at last come for an explanation. I would willingly have spared you, +but it is in vain that we seek to avoid our fate! Rest here!" and +seizing my wrist, she dragged me down on the fallen trunk of a tree that +lay half hidden by the tall grass at the side of the path. Immediately +behind us was a gloomy wood, choked with rank autumnal growths. A more +dank, unwholesome situation for a seat on a wet day it would be +impossible to conceive. But I preferred running the risk of rheumatic +fever to contradicting Miss Latouche in her present mood. Only I hoped +the explanation would be exceedingly brief. + +"You pretend that you never saw me before the other evening?" she began, +feverishly. + +"Certainly!" I answered, with great astonishment. "It was undoubtedly +our first meeting. I am sure--" + +"Can you swear it?" she interrupted, eagerly. + +"Oh, no! I never swear! But I don't mind affirming," I said playfully, +hoping to give a less serious turn to the conversation. + +To my horror Miss Latouche wrung her hands with the same expression of +hopeless suffering that I had seen once before. + +"It is too cruel," she moaned, "after all this dreary waiting and +watching, to be met like this! Oh, my Beloved! I cannot bear it any +longer! Shall I never find you? Never! never!" + +Her voice died away with a sob of despair, which effectually quenched my +capacity for making jokes. + +"I hardly understand what you are alluding to," I said as nicely as I +could; "but if you will trust me, I promise to do anything that lies in +my power to help you." + +"You promise!" she exclaimed, eagerly. "Mind, you are bound now! Bound +to my service!" + +This was taking my polite offer of assistance rather more seriously than +I intended. Muttering some commonplace compliment, I begged to be +further enlightened. + +"You will not repeat to any living soul the mysteries I am about to +disclose?" she began. "No, I need not ask! There is already sufficient +sympathy between us for me to be sure of your discretion. But remember, +if you ever feel tempted to disclose a single word of these hidden +matters, there are Unseen Powers who will amply avenge the profanation. +Know, then, that since my Beloved was snatched from me by what dull men +call death, all my faculties have been concentrated on the effort to +discover some link of communication with the Invisible World. I will not +dwell on my toils and sufferings, the terrible sights I have braved and +the sleepless nights that I have sacrificed to study. I do not grudge my +youth, passed as it were under the shadow of the tomb, for at last the +truth has been revealed to me. _You_ are to be the medium!" + +"Oh, nonsense!" I shouted. "I won't undertake it! Nothing shall persuade +me! Besides, I am perfectly ignorant of the subject." + +"You underrate your powers," observed Miss Latouche with calm +conviction. "Nature has endowed you with a most unusual organisation. +Your powers are quite involuntary. Nothing you say or do can make the +slightest difference. You are merely a passive agent for the +transmission of electric force." + +"Do you mean a sort of telegraph wire?" I gasped, feebly. + +"If you offer no resistance, all will be well with us," continued Miss +Latouche, ignoring the interruption; "but the Unseen Powers will bear no +trifling, and I can summon those to my aid who will make you bitterly +repent any levity!" + +I hate those sort of vague prophecies. They frighten one quite out of +proportion to their real gravity. + +"By the bye, I don't yet understand the reason you wouldn't tell my +fortune, as you seem to know such a lot about those things," I said at +last. + +"What! You do not understand yet that there is a bond between us which +makes any concealment impossible? I could not blind _you_ with the +paltry fictions that satisfy those poor fools!" and she waved her hand +contemptuously towards the distant figures of the tennis players, +amongst whom Mr. Tucker, in a wonderful costume, was distinctly visible. +The expression struck me as unjustifiably strong, even when applied to a +man who sang comic songs with a banjo accompaniment. + +"I don't think he is a bad little chap," I said, apologetically. + +"They are all alike," she replied, with an air of ineffable scorn. "You +can only content them with idle promises of love and wealth, like the +ignorant village girl who crosses a gipsy's hand with silver and in +return is promised a rich husband. And all the while I see the dark +cloud hanging over them and can do nothing to avert it. Ah! it is +terrible to know the evil to come and be powerless to warn others! To be +obliged to smile whilst one's heart is wrung with anguish and one's +brain tortured with nameless apprehensions; that is indeed misery!" + +"Dear me!" I said, nervously; "I hope you don't foresee any catastrophe +about to overwhelm _me_?" + +She gazed straight into my eyes, and her passionate face gradually +softened into a lovely smile. + +"No, my only friend!" she exclaimed, taking my hand gently in hers; "so +far, no cloud darkens the perfect happiness of our intercourse!" + +I felt that there were moments of compensation even in the pursuit of +the Black Arts! + + +III. + +It was a curious sensation, mixing again with the commonplace +pleasure-seekers at Longacres, conscious that I was the repository of +such extraordinary revelations. For, before we left our damp retreat, +Irene had confided in me the secret history of her life. Not that I +understood it very clearly, owing to her voice being continually choked +by stifled emotion. But I gathered that a person, presumably of the male +sex, who was vaguely designated as the Beloved, had perished in some +frightful manner before her eyes, and ever since that time she had +devoted herself to the study of the occult sciences in the firm +conviction that it was possible to discover a medium of communication +with the Unseen World. She now persisted that I had been designated by +unerring proofs as that medium. She assured me that, months previously, +she had foreseen my arrival at Longacres in the precise fashion in which +it really took place. + +"Every detail," she said, "was exactly foreshadowed in the vision. Not +only did I recognise you at once by your clothes (which were different +from those of the other men present), but your voice seemed familiar to +me, as if I had known you for years. I saw you gazing at me with what I +fondly believed to be a look of mutual recognition. I remember rising +from my seat in a species of ecstatic trance to which I am liable in +moments of excitement. I have a faint recollection of addressing you +with an impassioned appeal for help, to which you responded with icy +indifference, but the rest of our interview remains a blank. Only there +was a cruel sense of disappointment: instead of meeting as two spirits +whose interests were inseparable, you denied any previous knowledge of +me, and even manifested a sort of terrified aversion at my approach. I +saw you shrink away from my side; then nothing remained for me but to +temporarily dissemble my purpose and try first to win your confidence by +the exercise of my poor woman's wits. In this at least I was +successful!" + +Irene only spoke the truth. She had completely subdued my will by her +fascinations, and though I hated and, in private, ridiculed all +supernatural dealings, I was prepared to try the wildest experiments at +her bidding. + +The trial of my obedience arrived sooner than I anticipated. Immediately +after luncheon next day Irene made a sign to me to follow her into the +garden. + +"All is ready!" she exclaimed, with great excitement. "To-night will see +us successful or for ever lost!" + +"What do you mean?" I inquired, dubiously; for it did not sound a very +cheery prospect. + +"I mean that all things point to a hasty solution of the great problem. +To-night the planets are propitious, and with your help the chain of +communication will be at last complete. Oh, my Beloved! my toil and +waiting has not been all in vain!" + +"Well, what do you want me to do?" I said, rather sulkily. "Mind, it +mustn't be this evening, because Mrs. Maitland has a lot of people +coming to dinner, and we can't possibly leave the drawing-room." + +"The crisis will be at midnight in the ruined chapel," observed Irene, +as if she were stating the most ordinary fact; "but you must meet me an +hour before to make all sure." + +"Preposterous!" I exclaimed; "it's quite out of the question. Wander +about the garden at midnight indeed! What would people say if they saw +us?" + +"Do you imagine that I allow myself to be influenced by the opinion of +poor-spirited fools?" inquired Irene with fine scorn. And then, suddenly +changing her tactics, she sobbed and prayed me to grant her this one +boon--it might be the last thing she would ever ask. + +Well, she was very handsome, and I am but human. Before she left me I +had promised to do what she wished. + +It may be imagined that I passed a miserable day, distracted by a +thousand gloomy apprehensions which increased as the fatal hour +approached. I have mentioned that there was to be a dinner party that +evening. + +"A lot of country neighbours," as Maitland explained. "They like a big +feed from time to time. I put out the old port and my wife wears her +smartest dress and all the diamonds. It is quite a fuss to persuade her +to put them on, she is so nervous about them being lost! She always +insists on my locking them up in the safe again before I go to bed. Of +course I don't contradict her, but half the time I leave them on my +dressing-room table till next morning. Ha! ha! It is always best to +humour ladies, even when they are a trifle unreasonable." + +It is one of Maitland's little foibles that he never can resist drawing +attention to the family diamonds (which are remarkably fine) by some +passing allusion of this sort. + +Nothing of any interest happened during dinner. When it was at last +terminated we retired to the drawing-room, and listened with great +decorum to several pieces of music. Miss Latouche was pressed to perform +upon the harp, which she did with her usual melancholy grace. To-night +she was in a rich white robe, which enhanced the peculiarly dusky effect +of her olive skin and masses of dark hair. Her face was very pale; and, +to my surprise, shortly after playing she complained of a bad headache +and went off to bed. I hardly knew what to think. Had her courage failed +her at the last, and, when it came to the point, did she shrink from +braving the opinion of the world which she affected so thoroughly to +despise? + +"So, after all her boasting, she is no bolder than the rest of us!" I +thought, with intense relief, as I wandered across the hall to join the +other men in the smoking-room. The last guest had departed, and very +soon the whole house would be at rest for the night. "How I shall laugh +at her to-morrow!" I muttered. "Never again will she impose--" + +My meditations were interrupted by an icy touch on my wrist. Turning, I +saw Irene by my side, with a dark cloak thrown over her evening dress. +Without speaking a word she drew me towards a side door into the garden, +which was seldom used, and, producing a key from her pocket, opened it +noiselessly. + +"We can't go out at this time of night!" I gasped, making a faint effort +to break loose. "I haven't even a hat! It's really past a joke!" + +"Remember your promise!" she whispered, in a voice of such awful menace +that, feeling all resistance was useless, I followed her out into the +darkness. At that moment a sudden gust of wind slammed the door. + +"_Now_ what shall we do!" I exclaimed. "There is no handle and the key +is inside!" + +"Hush!" she whispered. "No more of these trivialities! I tell you the +Spirits are abroad to-night; the air is thick with unseen forms. Obey me +in silence, or you are lost." + +Speechless with annoyance, my teeth chattering with cold and general +creepiness, I followed her through the shrubberies until we reached the +site of a ruined chapel, which had originally joined on to the old wing +of the house. Of this building little remained except portions of the +outer walls, overgrown with ivy. The pavement had long since +disappeared, and was replaced by a rank growth of grass and weeds, +amongst which lay scattered such monumental remains as had survived the +general destruction. Only one window of the house happened to look out +in this direction. I could see a light shining through the blind, and, +with a touch, drew Irene's attention to it. + +"Do not alarm yourself with vain fears," she whispered; "it is only Mr. +Maitland's dressing-room. All will be quiet soon!" As she spoke, the +light was suddenly extinguished. + +Only then did I realise the full horrors of my position. When that +bed-room candle went out, the last link which bound me to civilization +seemed to have snapped. I was at the mercy of an enthusiast who had +broken loose from all those conventional trammels which I hold in such +respect. Although I had the greatest admiration for Irene, nothing would +have surprised me less than if my murdered remains had been found next +morning half hidden in the dank grass of the ruined chapel. + +We were standing in the deep shadow of the old wall. The silence was +intense. Indeed, after Irene's injunctions, I hardly dared breathe for +fear of drawing down some misfortune on my devoted head. Not that I +quite believed anything was going to happen, only it was best to be on +the safe side. Suddenly the stillness was broken by the distant sound of +the stable clock striking twelve. + +"It has come!" whispered Irene, stooping towards me with an expression +of the utmost anxiety. "Now you must obey me absolutely, or we shall +both incur the wrath of the Unseen Powers. No wavering! We have gone too +far to recede! First, to establish the electric current between us, you +must hold me firmly by the wrist and pass your hand slowly up and down +my arm, repeating these words after me." + +I hesitated. The proceeding struck me as extraordinary. + +"Will you imperil us both?" muttered Irene, in such a tone of agony that +I seized her arm and began to rub for my life. I remember noticing that +it was as cold and white as the arm of a marble statue. Meanwhile Irene +repeated an invocation, apparently in the same language in which she had +addressed me at our first meeting, and I imitated her to the best of my +ability. + +After this had been going on a few minutes, she inquired in a whisper if +I felt anything unusual. I considered that my sensations were quite +sufficiently peculiar to justify my replying in the affirmative. She +appeared satisfied. + +"All will be well, my friend," she murmured, sinking down with an air of +exhaustion on the lid of an ancient stone coffin that lay half overgrown +with ivy at our feet. "The danger will be averted if you act with +courage; only keep your hold on my hand and the Unseen Influences have +no power to hurt us! Now drink this." With these words she offered me a +small bottle of a dull blue colour and very curious shape. + +I examined the little flask suspiciously. I had a hazy impression that I +had once seen something like it in the British Museum. + +"Never can I reveal by what means I procured this invaluable treasure +and the precious fluid that it contains," replied Irene in answer to my +inquisitive glance. "Suffice it to say that for countless ages they lay +concealed in the cerements of a mummy." + +That settled me. I instantly resolved that no power on earth should +induce me to taste the nasty mess. A bright thought occurred to me--I +would base my refusal upon grounds which even Irene could scarcely +combat. + +"I am dreadfully sorry," I whispered, "but it upsets me to drink +anything except water; in fact I can't do it, the consequences would be +too horrible! I need not particularise, but literally I couldn't keep it +down a minute. So it seems hardly worth while to risk wasting this +valuable fluid." + +"And am I to be baffled at this hour by Human Weakness!" cried Irene, +stamping with suppressed rage. "It shall not be! Ha! I have it! The +odour alone may be sufficiently powerful to work our purpose." And +uncorking the bottle, she held it towards me. + +The smell was pungent but not disagreeable. + +"Now all is completed," she said, when I had inhaled a few whiffs. "You +have only to gaze before you, and wish with all the force of your will +that my Beloved may appear." + +We stood perfectly still, hand clasped in hand. Irene had risen from her +grim seat, and was leaning against me for support. Her cloak had fallen +off, and I thought that she looked like a beautiful spirit herself +against the dark background of ivy. In obedience to her orders, I fixed +my eyes on space and tried to wish. + +Hardly had I begun, when a figure emerged from behind the opposite wall +and glided slowly across the chapel towards us. I was so amazed that I +could hardly believe the evidence of my senses. As for Irene, she only +smiled with ineffable bliss, as if it were exactly what she had expected +all along. + +It was rather a cloudy night, so that I had great difficulty in +following the movements of the mysterious figure. When it gained the +centre of the chapel it paused, and then slowly turned towards the wall +of the house. As far as I could see, it was making some wild motion with +its upraised arms, whether of benediction or menace it was impossible to +discern at that distance; but I could not shake off a horrid impression +that it was cursing the slumbering inmates. And then, wonderful to +relate, whilst my eyes were fixed upon the dark figure, it began slowly +to rise into the air! + +At this portentous sight, I don't mind confessing that my hair fairly +bristled with horror. Fortunately for the preservation of my reason, at +that instant the moon, gleaming from behind a cloud, revealed a long +ladder planted against Mr. Maitland's dressing-room window. + +In a moment I recovered my self-possession. + +"Stay still--I am going to leave you for a short time," I whispered. + +Irene clung to me with both hands, and expressed a fear that the +outraged spirits would tear us in pieces if we moved. + +"Bother the spirits!" I replied, in a gruff whisper. "I swear it will be +the worse for you if you make a fuss now!" + +She sobbed and wrung her hands, but the time was past for that to have +any effect upon me, and, disengaging myself from her grasp, I crept +away, hiding as well as I could behind the scattered ruins. + +In this manner I contrived almost to reach the foot of the ladder +without being discovered. I had a strange fancy for capturing the thief +single-handed and monopolising all the glory of saving the famous +diamonds. Waiting patiently until he had just reached the window, I +rushed forward and seized the ladder. + +"It's no use resisting," I shouted; "if you don't give up quietly, I'll +shake." + +At this point a second figure stepped out from behind a laurel bush and +effectually silenced any further threats by dealing me a heavy blow on +the head. + + * * * * * + +For days I lay insensible from concussion of the brain. When I was at +last pronounced convalescent, Maitland was admitted to my room, being +bound by solemn promises not to excite me in any way. With heartfelt +gratitude he shook my hand and thanked me for saving the family +diamonds. + +"I shall take better care of them in the future," he said. "Catch me +leaving them about in my dressing-room again. No, they shall always go +straight back into the safe. Mrs. Maitland was right about that, though +it wouldn't do to confess it. Precious lucky for me that you heard the +burglars and ran out; though I wouldn't advise you to try and tackle two +muscular ruffians by yourself another time. It was just a chance that +one broke his leg when you pulled down the ladder, otherwise they would +have finished you off before we arrived on the scene." + +I may here remark that I never thought it necessary to correct the +version of the story which I found was already generally accepted. To +this day Maitland firmly believes that I was just getting into bed, +when, with supernatural acuteness, I divined the presence of robbers +under his dressing-room window, and creeping quietly out attacked them +in the rear. + +"By-the-bye, is Miss Latouche still staying here?" I presently inquired +in as calm a voice as I could command. + +"No, she left suddenly the day after your accident. She complained of +feeling upset by the affair, and wished to go home. We did not press her +to stay, as she is liable to nervous attacks which are rather alarming. +Why, that very night, curiously enough, I met her evidently walking in +her sleep down the passage as I rushed out at your shout. She passed +quite close to me without making any sign, and was quite unconscious of +it next day--in fact referred with some surprise to having slept all +through the row." + +"Has she always had these peculiar ways?" I asked with interest. + +"Well, I always thought her an imaginative, fanciful sort of girl, but +she has certainly been much worse since that poor fellow's death. What, +you never heard the story? It was at a picnic, and she insisted upon his +climbing some rocks to get her a certain flower, just for the sake of +giving trouble, as girls do. The poor lad's foot slipped, and he rolled +right over a precipice and was dashed to pieces. Of course it was a +shocking thing, but it's a pity she became so morbid about it, as no +real blame attached to her. Now I must not talk too much or the doctor +will say I have tired you; so good-bye for the present." + +And that was the last I heard of Irene Latouche. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Argosy, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ARGOSY *** + +***** This file should be named 17051-8.txt or 17051-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/0/5/17051/ + +Produced by Paul Murray, Taavi Kalju, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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 Argosy + Vol. 51, No. 1, January, 1891 + +Author: Various + +Editor: Charles W. Wood + +Release Date: November 11, 2005 [EBook #17051] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ARGOSY *** + + + + +Produced by Paul Murray, Taavi Kalju, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + +<h3><i>"Laden with Golden Grain"</i></h3> + +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> + +<h3>THE</h3> +<h1>ARGOSY.</h1> + +<p> </p> + +<h4>EDITED BY</h4> +<h2>CHARLES W. WOOD.</h2> + +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> + +<h3>VOLUME LI.</h3> + +<h2><i>January to June, 1891.</i></h2> + +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> + + +<h4>RICHARD BENTLEY & SON,</h4> +<h4>8, NEW BURLINGTON STREET, LONDON, W.</h4> + +<p class="center">Publishers in Ordinary to Her Majesty.</p> + +<h5><i>All rights reserved.</i></h5> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p class="center"> +LONDON:<br /> +PRINTED BY OGDEN, SMALE AND CO. LIMITED,<br /> +GREAT SAFFRON HILL, E.C.<br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><i>CONTENTS.</i></h2> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='right'>PAGE</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='center'><b><span class="smcap">The Fate of the Hara Diamond</span>. Illustrated by <span class="smcap">M.L. Gow</span>.</b></td> + <td align='left'></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='right'>Chap. I. </td> + <td align='left'>My Arrival at Deepley Walls</td> + <td align='right'><a href='#Page_23'>23</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='right'>II. </td> + <td align='left'>The Mistress of Deepley Walls</td> + <td align='right'><a href='#Page_29'>29</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='right'>III. </td> + <td align='left'>A Voyage of Discovery</td> + <td align='right'><a href='#Page_35'>35</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='right'>IV. </td> + <td align='left'>Scarsdale Weir</td> + <td align='right'><a href='#Page_40'>40</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='right'>V. </td> + <td align='left'>At Rose Cottage</td> + <td align='right'>Feb</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='right'>VI. </td> + <td align='left'>The Growth of a Mystery</td> + <td align='right'>Feb</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='right'>VII. </td> + <td align='left'>Exit Janet Hope</td> + <td align='right'>Feb</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='right'>VIII. </td> + <td align='left'>By the Scotch Express</td> + <td align='right'>Feb</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='right'>IX. </td> + <td align='left'>At "The Golden Griffin"</td> + <td align='right'>Mar</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='right'>X. </td> + <td align='left'>The Stolen Manuscript</td> + <td align='right'>Mar</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='right'>XI. </td> + <td align='left'>Bon Repos</td> + <td align='right'>Mar</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='right'>XII. </td> + <td align='left'>The Amsterdam Edition of 1698</td> + <td align='right'>Mar</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='right'>XIII. </td> + <td align='left'>M. Platzoff's Secret—Captain Ducie's Translation of M. Paul Platzoff's MS</td> + <td align='right'>Mar</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='right'>XIV. </td> + <td align='left'>Drashkil-Smoking</td> + <td align='right'>Apr</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='right'>XV. </td> + <td align='left'>The Diamond</td> + <td align='right'>Apr</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='right'>XVI. </td> + <td align='left'>Janet's Return</td> + <td align='right'>Apr</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='right'>XVII. </td> + <td align='left'>Deepley Walls after Seven Years</td> + <td align='right'>Apr</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='right'>XVIII. </td> + <td align='left'>Janet in a New Character</td> + <td align='right'>May</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='right'>XIX. </td> + <td align='left'>The Dawn of Love</td> + <td align='right'>May</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='right'>XX. </td> + <td align='left'>The Narrative of Sergeant Nicholas</td> + <td align='right'>May</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='right'>XXI. </td> + <td align='left'>Counsel taken with Mr. Madgin</td> + <td align='right'>May</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='right'>XXII. </td> + <td align='left'>Mr. Madgin at the Helm</td> + <td align='right'>Jun</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='right'>XXIII. </td> + <td align='left'>Mr. Madgin's Secret Journey</td> + <td align='right'>Jun</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='right'>XXIV. </td> + <td align='left'>Enter Madgin Junior</td> + <td align='right'>Jun</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='right'>XXV. </td> + <td align='left'>Madgin Junior's First Report</td> + <td align='right'>Jun</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='center'>* * * * *</td> + <td align='left'></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='center'><b><span class="smcap">The Silent Chimes</span>. By <span class="smcap">Johnny Ludlow</span> (Mrs. <span class="smcap">Henry Wood</span>).</b></td> + <td align='left'></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>Putting Them Up</td> + <td align='right'><a href='#Page_1'>1</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>Playing Again</td> + <td align='right'>Feb</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>Ringing at Midday</td> + <td align='right'>Mar</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>Not Heard</td> + <td align='right'>Apr</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>Silent for Ever</td> + <td align='right'>May</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='center'>* * * * *</td> + <td align='left'></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'><b><span class="smcap">The Bretons at Home</span>. By <span class="smcap">Charles W. Wood</span>, F.R.G.S. With 35 Illustrations</b></td> + <td align='right'><a href='#Page_48'>48</a>, Feb, Mar, Apr, May, Jun</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='center'>* * * * *</td> + <td align='left'></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>About the Weather</td> + <td align='right'>Jun</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>Across the River. By <span class="smcap">Helen M. Burnside</span></td> + <td align='right'>Apr</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>After Twenty Years. By <span class="smcap">Ada M. Trotter</span></td> + <td align='right'>Feb</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>A Memory. By <span class="smcap">George Cotterell</span></td> + <td align='right'>Feb</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>A Modern Witch</td> + <td align='right'><a href='#Page_73'>73</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>An April Folly. By <span class="smcap">Gilbert H. Page</span></td> + <td align='right'>Apr</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>A Philanthropist. By <span class="smcap">Angus Grey</span></td> + <td align='right'>Jun</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>Aunt Phœbe's Heirlooms: An Experience in Hypnotism</td> + <td align='right'>Feb</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>A Social Debut</td> + <td align='right'>Mar</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>A Song. By <span class="smcap">G.B. Stuart</span></td> + <td align='right'><a href='#Page_18'>18</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>Enlightenment. By <span class="smcap">E. Nesbit</span></td> + <td align='right'>Feb</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>In a Bernese Valley. By <span class="smcap">Alexander Lamont</span></td> + <td align='right'>Feb</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>Legend of an Ancient Minster. By <span class="smcap">John Græme</span></td> + <td align='right'>Mar</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>Longevity. By <span class="smcap">W.F. Ainsworth</span>, F.S.A.</td> + <td align='right'>Apr</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>Mademoiselle Elise. By <span class="smcap">Edward Francis</span></td> + <td align='right'>Jun</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>Mediums and Mysteries. By <span class="smcap">Narissa Rosavo</span></td> + <td align='right'>Feb</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>Miss Kate Marsden</td> + <td align='right'><a href='#Page_19'>19</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>My May Queen. By <span class="smcap">John Jervis Beresford</span>, M.A.</td> + <td align='right'>May</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>Old China</td> + <td align='right'>Jun</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>On Letter-Writing. By <span class="smcap">A.H. Japp</span>, LL.D.</td> + <td align='right'>May</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>Paul. By the Author of "Adonais, Q.C."</td> + <td align='right'>May</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>"Proctorised"</td> + <td align='right'>Apr</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>Rondeau. By <span class="smcap">E. Nesbit</span></td> + <td align='right'>Mar</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>Saint or Satan? By <span class="smcap">A. Beresford</span></td> + <td align='right'>Feb</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>Sappho. By <span class="smcap">Mary Grey</span></td> + <td align='right'>Mar</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>Serenade. By <span class="smcap">E. Nesbit</span></td> + <td align='right'>Jun</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>Sonnets. By <span class="smcap">Julia Kavanagh</span></td> + <td align='right'><a href='#Page_47'>47</a>, Feb, Apr, Jun</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>So Very Unattractive!</td> + <td align='right'>Jun</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>Spes. By <span class="smcap">John Jervis Beresford</span>, M.A.</td> + <td align='right'>Apr</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>Sweet Nancy. By <span class="smcap">Jeanie Gwynne Bettany</span></td> + <td align='right'>May</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>The Church Garden. By <span class="smcap">Christian Burke</span></td> + <td align='right'>May</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>The Only Son of his Mother. By <span class="smcap">Letitia McClintock</span></td> + <td align='right'>Mar</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>To my Soul. From the French of Victor Hugo</td> + <td align='right'>Jun</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>Unexplained. By <span class="smcap">Letitia McClintock</span></td> + <td align='right'>Apr</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>Who Was the Third Maid?</td> + <td align='right'><a href='#Page_69'>69</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>Winter in Absence</td> + <td align='right'>Feb</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='center'>* * * * *</td> + <td align='left'></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='center'><b><i>POETRY.</i></b></td> + <td align='left'></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>Sonnets. By <span class="smcap">Julia Kavanagh</span></td> + <td align='right'><a href='#Page_47'>47</a>, Feb, Apr, Jun</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>A Song. By <span class="smcap">G.B. Stuart</span></td> + <td align='right'><a href='#Page_18'>18</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>Enlightenment. By <span class="smcap">E. Nesbit</span></td> + <td align='right'>Feb</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>Winter in Absence</td> + <td align='right'>Feb</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>A Memory. By <span class="smcap">George Cotterell</span></td> + <td align='right'>Feb</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>In a Bernese Valley. By <span class="smcap">Alexander Lamont</span></td> + <td align='right'>Feb</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>Rondeau. By <span class="smcap">E. Nesbit</span></td> + <td align='right'>Mar</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>Spes. By <span class="smcap">John Jervis Beresford</span>, M.A.</td> + <td align='right'>Apr</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>Across the River. By <span class="smcap">Helen M. Burnside</span></td> + <td align='right'>Apr</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>My May Queen. By <span class="smcap">John Jervis Beresford</span>, M.A.</td> + <td align='right'>May</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>The Church Garden. By <span class="smcap">Christian Burke</span></td> + <td align='right'>May</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>Serenade. By <span class="smcap">E. Nesbit</span></td> + <td align='right'>Jun</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>To my Soul. From the French of Victor Hugo</td> + <td align='right'>Jun</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>Old China</td> + <td align='right'>Jun</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='center'>* * * * *</td> + <td align='left'></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='center'><b><i>ILLUSTRATIONS.</i></b></td> + <td align='left'></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'><b>By M.L. Gow.</b></td> + <td align='left'></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>"I advanced slowly up the room, stopped, and curtsied."</td> + <td align='left'></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>"I saw and recognised the mysterious midnight visitor."</td> + <td align='left'></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>"He came back in a few minutes, but so transformed in outward appearance that Ducie scarcely knew him."</td> + <td align='left'></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>"Behold!"</td> + <td align='left'></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>"Sister Agnes knelt for a few moments and bent her head in silent prayer."</td> + <td align='left'></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>"He put his hand to his side, and motioned Mirpah to open the letter."</td> + <td align='left'></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='center'>* * * * *</td> + <td align='left'></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td align='left'></td> + <td align='left'>Illustrations to "The Bretons at Home."</td> + <td align='left'></td> +</tr> +</table></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/01large.jpg"> + <img src="images/01.jpg" + alt="I advanced slowly up the room, stopped and curtsied." + title="I advanced slowly up the room, stopped and curtsied." /></a><br /> + <span class="caption">I advanced slowly up the room, stopped and curtsied.<br /> +Page <a href='#Page_31'>31</a>.</span> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> +<h1>THE ARGOSY.</h1> + +<h3><i>JANUARY, 1891.</i></h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE SILENT CHIMES.</h2> + + +<h3>PUTTING THEM UP.</h3> + + +<p>I hardly know whether to write this history, or not; for its events did +not occur within my own recollection, and I can only relate them at +second-hand—from the Squire and others. They are curious enough; +especially as regards the three parsons—one following upon another—in +their connection with the Monk family, causing no end of talk in Church +Leet parish, as well as in other parishes within ear-shot.</p> + +<p>About three miles' distance from Church Dykely, going northwards across +country, was the rural parish of Church Leet. It contained a few +farmhouses and some labourers' cottages. The church, built of grey +stone, stood in its large grave-yard; the parsonage, a commodious house, +was close by; both of them were covered with time-worn ivy. Nearly half +a mile off, on a gentle eminence, rose the handsome mansion called Leet +Hall, the abode of the Monk family. Nearly the whole of the +parish—land, houses, church and all—belonged to them. At the time I am +about to tell of they were the property of one man—Godfrey Monk.</p> + +<p>The late owner of the place (except for one short twelvemonth) was old +James Monk, Godfrey's father. Old James had three sons and one +daughter—Emma—his wife dying early. The eldest son (mostly styled +"young James") was about as wild a blade as ever figured in story; the +second son, Raymond, was an invalid; the third, Godfrey, a reckless lad, +ran away to sea when he was fourteen.</p> + +<p>If the Monks were celebrated for one estimable quality more than +another, it was temper: a cross-grained, imperious, obstinate temper. +"Run away to sea, has he?" cried old James when he heard the news; "very +well, at sea he shall stop." And at sea Godfrey did stop, not disliking +the life, and perhaps not finding any other open to him. He worked his +way up in the merchant service by degrees, until he became commander and +was called Captain Monk.</p><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p> + +<p>The years went on. Young James died, and the other two sons grew to be +middle-aged men. Old James, the father, found by signs and tokens that +his own time was approaching; and he was the next to go. Save for a +slender income bequeathed to Godfrey and to his daughter, the whole of +the property was left to Raymond, and to Godfrey after him if Raymond +had no son. The entail had been cut off in the past generation; for +which act the reasons do not concern us.</p> + +<p>So Raymond, ailing greatly always, entered into possession of his +inheritance. He lived about a twelvemonth afterwards, and then died: +died unmarried. Therefore Godfrey came into all.</p> + +<p>People were curious, the Squire says, as to what sort of man Godfrey +would turn out to be; for he had not troubled home much since he ran +away. He was a widower; that much was known; his wife having been a +native of Trinidad, in the West Indies.</p> + +<p>A handsome man, with fair, curling hair (what was left of it); proud +blue eyes; well-formed features with a chronic flush upon them, for he +liked his glass, and took it; a commanding, imperious manner, and a +temper uncompromising as the grave. Such was Captain Godfrey Monk; now +in his forty-fifth year. Upon his arrival at Leet Hall after landing, +with his children and one or two dusky attendants in their train, he was +received by his sister Emma, Mrs. Carradyne. Major Carradyne had died +fighting in India, and his wife, at the request of her brother Raymond, +came then to live at Leet Hall. Not of necessity, for Mrs. Carradyne was +well off and could have made her home where she pleased, but Raymond had +liked to have her. Godfrey also expressed his pleasure that she should +remain; she could act as mother to his children.</p> + +<p>Godfrey's children were three: Katherine, aged seventeen; Hubert, aged +ten; and Eliza, aged eight. The girls had their father's handsome +features, but in their skin there ran a dusky tinge, hinting of other +than pure Saxon blood; and they were every whit as haughtily self-willed +as he was. The boy, Hubert, was extremely pretty, his face fair, his +complexion delicately beautiful, his auburn hair bright, his manner +winning; but he liked to exercise his own will, and appeared to have +generally done it.</p> + +<p>A day or two, and Mrs. Carradyne sat down aghast. "I never saw children +so troublesome and self-willed in all my life, Godfrey," she said to her +brother. "Have they ever been controlled at all?"</p> + +<p>"Had their own way pretty much, I expect," answered the Captain. "I was +not often at home, you know, and there's nobody else they'd obey."</p> + +<p>"Well, Godfrey, if I am to remain here, you will have to help me manage +them."</p> + +<p>"That's as may be, Emma. When I deem it necessary to speak, I speak; +otherwise I don't interfere. And you must not get into the habit of +appealing to me, recollect."</p><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> + +<p>Captain Monk's conversation was sometimes interspersed with sundry light +words, not at all orthodox, and not necessarily delivered in anger. In +those past days swearing was regarded as a gentleman's accomplishment; a +sailor, it was believed, could not at all get along without it. Manners +change. The present age prides itself upon its politeness: but what of +its sincerity?</p> + +<p>Mrs. Carradyne, mild and gentle, commenced her task of striving to tame +her brother's rebellious children. She might as well have let it alone. +The girls laughed at her one minute and set her at defiance the next. +Hubert, who had good feeling, was more obedient; he did not openly defy +her. At times, when her task pressed heavily upon her spirits, Mrs. +Carradyne felt tempted to run away from Leet Hall, as Godfrey had run +from it in the days gone by. Her own two children were frightened at +their cousins, and she speedily sent both to school, lest they should +catch their bad manners. Henry was ten, the age of Hubert; Lucy was +between five and six.</p> + +<p>Just before the death of Raymond Monk, the living of Church Leet became +vacant, and the last act of his life was to present it to a worthy young +clergyman named George West. This caused intense dissatisfaction to +Godfrey. He had heard of the late incumbent's death, and when he arrived +home and found the living filled up he proclaimed his anger loudly, +lavishing abuse upon poor dead Raymond for his precipitancy. He had +wanted to bestow it upon a friend of his, a Colonial chaplain, and had +promised it to him. It was a checkmate there was no help for now, for +Mr. West could not be turned out again; but Captain Monk was not +accustomed to be checkmated, and resented it accordingly. He took up, +for no other reason, a most inveterate dislike to George West, and +showed it practically.</p> + +<p>In every step the Vicar took, at every turn and thought, he found +himself opposed by Captain Monk. Had he a suggestion to make for the +welfare of the parish, his patron ridiculed it; did he venture to +propose some wise measure at a vestry meeting, the Captain put him and +his measure down. Not civilly either, but with a stinging contempt, +semi-covert though it was, that made its impression on the farmers +around. The Reverend George West was a man of humility, given to much +self-disparagement, so he bore all in silence and hoped for better +times.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The time went on; three years of it; Captain Monk had fully settled down +in his ancestral home, and the neighbours had learnt what a domineering, +self-willed man he was. But he had his virtues. He was kind in a general +way, generous where it pleased him to be, inordinately attached to his +children, and hospitable to a fault.</p> + +<p>On the last day of every year, as the years came round, Captain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> Monk, +following his late father's custom, gave a grand dinner to his tenants; +and a very good custom it would have been, but that he and they got +rather too jolly. The parson was always invited—and went; and sometimes +a few of Captain Monk's personal friends were added.</p> + +<p>Christmas came round this year as usual, and the invitations to the +dinner went out. One came to Squire Todhetley, a youngish man then, and +one to my father, William Ludlow, who was younger than the Squire. It +was a green Christmas; the weather so warm and genial that the hearty +farmers, flocking to Leet Hall, declared they saw signs of buds +sprouting in the hedges, whilst the large fire in the Captain's +dining-room was quite oppressive.</p> + +<p>Looking from the window of the parsonage sitting-room in the twilight, +while drawing on his gloves, preparatory to setting forth, stood Mr. +West. His wife was bending over an easy-chair, in which their only +child, little Alice, lay back, covered up. Her breathing was quick, her +skin parched with fever. The wife looked sickly herself.</p> + +<p>"Well, I suppose it is time to go," observed Mr. West, slowly. "I shall +be late if I don't."</p> + +<p>"I rather wonder you go at all, George," returned his wife. "Year after +year, when you come back from this dinner, you invariably say you will +not go to another."</p> + +<p>"I know it, Mary. I dislike the drinking that goes on—and the free +conversation—and the objectionable songs; I feel out of place in it +all."</p> + +<p>"And the Captain's contemptuous treatment of yourself, you might add."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is another unwelcome item in the evening's programme."</p> + +<p>"Then, George, why <i>do</i> you go?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I think you know why. I do not like to refuse the invitation; it +would only increase Captain Monk's animosity and widen still further the +breach between us. As patron he holds so much in his power. Besides +that, my presence at the table does act, I believe, as a mild restraint +on some of them, keeping the drinking and the language somewhat within +bounds. Yes, I suppose my duty lies in going. But I shall not stay late, +Mary," added the parson, bending to look at the suffering child; "and if +you see any real necessity for the doctor to be called in to-night, I +will go for him."</p> + +<p>"Dood-bye, pa-pa," lisped the little four-year-old maiden.</p> + +<p>He kissed the little hot face, said adieu to his wife and went out, +hoping that the child would recover without the doctor; for the living +of Church Leet was but a poor one, though the parsonage house was so +handsome. It was a hundred-and-sixty pounds a year, for which sum the +tithes had been compounded, and Mr. West had not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> much money to spare +for superfluities—especially as he had to substantially help his +mother.</p> + +<p>The twilight had deepened almost to night, and the lights in the mansion +seemed to smile a cheerful welcome as he approached it. The pillared +entrance, ascended to by broad steps, stood in the middle, and a raised +terrace of stone ran along before the windows on either side. It was +quite true that every year at the conclusion of these feasts, the Vicar +resolved never to attend another; but he was essentially a man of peace, +striving ever to lay oil upon troubled waters, after the example left by +his Master.</p> + +<p>Dinner. The board was full. Captain Monk presided, genial to-day; genial +even to the parson. Squire Todhetley faced the Captain at the foot; Mr. +West sat at the Squire's right hand, between him and Farmer Threpp, a +quiet man and supposed to be a very substantial one. All went on +pleasantly; but when the elaborate dinner gave place to dessert and +wine-drinking, the company became rather noisy.</p> + +<p>"I think it's about time you left us," cried the Squire by-and-by to +young Hubert, who sat next him on the other side: and over and over +again Mr. Todhetley has repeated to us in later years the very words +that passed.</p> + +<p>"By George, yes!" put in a bluff and hearty fox-hunter, the master of +the hounds, bending forward to look at the lad, for he was in a line +with him, and breaking short off an anecdote he was regaling the company +with. "I forgot you were there, Master Hubert. Quite time you went to +bed."</p> + +<p>"I daresay!" laughed the boy. "Please let me alone, all of you. I don't +want attention drawn to me."</p> + +<p>But the slight commotion had attracted Captain Monk's notice. He saw his +son.</p> + +<p>"What's that?—Hubert! What brings you there now, you young pirate? I +ordered you to go out with the cloth."</p> + +<p>"I am not doing any harm, papa," said the boy, turning his fair and +beautiful face towards his father.</p> + +<p>Captain Monk pointed his stern finger at the door; a mandate which +Hubert dared not disobey, and he went out.</p> + +<p>The company sat on, an interminable period of time it seemed to the +Vicar. He glanced stealthily at his watch. Eleven o'clock.</p> + +<p>"Thinking of going, Parson?" said Mr. Threpp. "I'll go with you. My +head's not one of the strongest, and I've had about as much as I ought +to carry."</p> + +<p>They rose quietly, not to disturb the table; intending to steal away, if +possible, without being observed. Unluckily, Captain Monk chanced to be +looking that way.</p> + +<p>"Halloa! who's turning sneak?—Not you, surely, Parson!—" in a +meaningly contemptuous tone. "And <i>you</i>, Threpp, of all men! Sit down +again, both of you, if you don't want to quarrel with me.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> Odds fish! +has my dining-room got sharks in it, that you'd run away? Winter, just +lock the door, will you; you are close to it; and pass up the key to +me."</p> + +<p>Mr. Winter, a jovial old man and the largest tenant on the estate, rose +to do the Captain's behest, and sent up the key.</p> + +<p>"Nobody quits my room," said the host, as he took it, "until we have +seen the old year out and the new one in. What else do you come for—eh, +gentlemen?"</p> + +<p>The revelry went on. The decanters circulated more quickly, the glasses +clicked, the songs became louder, the Captain's sea stories broader. Mr. +West perforce made the best of the situation, certain words of Holy Writ +running through his memory:</p> + +<p>"<i>Look not thou upon the wine when it is red, when it giveth its colour +in the cup, when it moveth itself aright!</i>"</p> + +<p>Well, more than well, for Captain Monk, that he had not looked upon the +red wine that night!</p> + +<p>In the midst of all this, the hall clock began to strike twelve. The +Captain rose, after filling his glass to the brim.</p> + +<p>"Bumpers round, gentlemen. On your legs. Ready? Hooray! Here's to the +shade of the year that's gone, and may it have buried all our cares with +it! And here's good luck to the one setting-in. A happy New Year to you +all; and may we never know a moment in it worse than the present! +Three-times-three—and drain your glasses."</p> + +<p>"But we have had the toast too soon!" called out one of the farmers, +making the discovery close after the cheers had subsided. "It wants some +minutes yet to midnight, Captain."</p> + +<p>Captain Monk snatched out his watch—worn in those days in what was +called the fob-pocket—its chain and bunch of seals at the end hanging +down.</p> + +<p>"By Jupiter!" he exclaimed. "Hang that butler of mine! He knew the hall +clock was too fast, and I told him to put it back. If his memory serves +him no better than this, he may ship himself off to a fresh +berth.—Hark! Listen!"</p> + +<p>It was the church clock striking twelve. The sound reached the +dining-room very clearly, the wind setting that way. "Another bumper," +cried the Captain, and his guests drank it.</p> + +<p>"This day twelvemonth I was at a feast in Derbyshire; the bells of a +neighbouring church rang-in the year with pleasant melody; chimes they +were," remarked a guest, who was a partial stranger. "Your church has no +bells, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"It has one; an old ting-tang that calls us to service on a Sunday," +said Mr. Winter.</p> + +<p>"I like to hear those midnight chimes, for my part. I like to hear them +chime-in the new year," went on the stranger.</p> + +<p>"Chimes!" cried out Captain Monk, who was getting very considerably +elated, "why should we not have chimes? Mr. West, why don't we have +chimes?"</p><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Our church does not possess any, sir—as this gentleman has just +remarked," was Mr. West's answer.</p> + +<p>"Egad, but that parson of ours is going to set us all ablaze with his +wit!" jerked out the Captain ironically. "I asked, sir, why we should +not get a set of chimes; I did not say we had got them. Is there any +just cause or impediment why we should not, Mr. Vicar?"</p> + +<p>"Only the expense," replied the Vicar, in a conciliatory tone.</p> + +<p>"Oh, bother expense! That's what you are always wanting to groan over. +Mr. Churchwarden Threpp, we will call a vestry meeting and make a rate."</p> + +<p>"The parish could not bear it, Captain Monk," remonstrated the +clergyman. "You know what dissatisfaction was caused by the last extra +rate put on, and how low an ebb things are at just now."</p> + +<p>"When I will a thing, I do it," retorted the Captain, with a meaning +word or two. "We'll send out the rate and we'll get the chimes."</p> + +<p>"It will, I fear, lie in my duty to protest against it," spoke the +uneasy parson.</p> + +<p>"It may lie in your duty to be a wet-blanket, but you won't protest me +out of my will. Gentlemen, we will all meet here again this time +twelvemonth, when the chimes shall ring-in the new year for you.—Here, +Dutton, you can unlock the door now," concluded the Captain, handing the +key to the other churchwarden. "Our parson is upon thorns to be away +from us."</p> + +<p>Not the parson only, but several others availed themselves of the +opportunity to escape.</p> + + +<h4>II.</h4> + +<p>It perhaps did not surprise the parish to find that its owner and +master, Captain Monk, intended to persist in his resolution of +embellishing the church-tower with a set of chiming-bells. They knew him +too well to hope anything less. Why! two years ago, at the same annual +feast, some remarks or other at table put it into his head to declare he +would stop up the public path by the Rill; and his obstinate will +carried it out, regardless of the inconvenience it caused.</p> + +<p>A vestry meeting was called, and the rate (to obtain funds for the +bells) was at length passed. Two or three voices were feebly lifted in +opposition; Mr. West alone had courage to speak out; but the Captain put +him down with his strong hand. It may be asked why Captain Monk did not +provide the funds himself for this whim. But he would never touch his +own pocket for the benefit of the parish if he could help it: and it was +thought that his antagonism to the parson was the deterring motive.</p> + +<p>To impose the rate was one thing, to collect it quite another. Some of +the poorer ratepayers protested with tears in their eyes that they could +not pay. Superfluous rates (really not necessary ones) were perpetually +being inflicted upon them, they urged, and were bringing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> them, together +with a succession of recent bad seasons, to the verge of ruin. They +carried their remonstrances to their Vicar, and he in turn carried them +to Captain Monk.</p> + +<p>It only widened the breach. The more persistently, though gently, Mr. +West pleaded the cause of his parishioners, asking the Captain to be +considerate to them for humanity's sake, the greater grew the other's +obstinacy in holding to his own will. To be thus opposed roused all the +devil within him—it was his own expression; and he grew to hate Mr. +West with an exceeding bitter hatred.</p> + +<p>The chimes were ordered—to play one tune only. Mr. West asked, when the +thing was absolutely inevitable, that at least some sweet and sacred +melody, acceptable to church-going ears, might be chosen; but Captain +Monk fixed on a sea-song that was a favourite of his own—"The Bay of +Biscay." At the end of every hour, when the clock had struck, the Bay of +Biscay was to burst forth to charm the parish.</p> + +<p>The work was put in hand at once, Captain Monk finding the necessary +funds, to be repaid by the proceeds of the rate. Other expenses were +involved, such as the strengthening of the belfry. The rate was not +collected quickly. It was, I say, one of those times of scarcity that +people used to talk so much of years ago; and when the parish beadle, +who was the parish collector, went round with the tax-paper in his hand, +the poorer of the cottagers could not respond to it. Some of them had +not paid the last levy, and Captain Monk threatened harsh measures. +Altogether, what with one thing or another, Church Leet that year was +kept in a state of ferment. But the work went on.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>One windy day in September, Mr. West sat in his study writing a sermon, +when a jarring crash rang out from the church close by. He leaped from +his chair. The unusual noise had startled him; and it struck on every +chord of vexation he possessed. He knew that workmen were busy in the +tower, but this was the first essay of the chimes. The bells had clashed +in some way one upon the other; not giving out The Bay of Biscay or any +other melody, but a very discordant jangle indeed. It was the first and +the last time that poor George West heard their sound.</p> + +<p>He put the blotting-paper upon his sermon; he was in no mind to continue +it then; took up his hat and went out. His wife spoke to him from the +open window.</p> + +<p>"Are you going out now, George? Tea is all but ready."</p> + +<p>Turning back on the path, he passed into the sitting-room. A cup of tea +might soothe his nerves. The tea-tray stood on the table, and Mrs. West, +caddy in hand, was putting the tea into the tea-pot. Little Alice sat +gravely by.</p> + +<p>"Did you hear dat noise up in the church, papa?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I heard it, dear," sighed the Vicar.</p><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p> + +<p>"A fine clashing it was!" cried Mrs. West. "I have heard something else +this afternoon, George, worse than that: Bean's furniture is being taken +away."</p> + +<p>"What?" cried the Vicar.</p> + +<p>"It's true. Sarah went out on an errand and passed the cottage. The +chairs and tables were being put outside the door by two men, she says: +brokers, I conclude."</p> + +<p>Mr. West made short work of his tea and started for the scene. Thomas +Bean was a very small farmer indeed, renting about thirty acres. What +with the heavy rates, as he said, and other outgoings and bad seasons, +and ill-luck altogether, he had been behind in his payments this long +while; and now the ill-luck seemed to have come to a climax. Bean and +his wife were old; their children were scattered abroad.</p> + +<p>"Oh, sir," cried the old lady when she saw the Vicar, the tears raining +from her eyes, "it cannot be right that this oppression should fall upon +us! We had just managed—Heaven knows how, for I'm sure I don't—to pay +the Midsummer rent; and now they've come upon us for the rates, and have +took away things worth ten times the sum."</p> + +<p>"For the rates!" mechanically spoke the Vicar.</p> + +<p>She supposed it was a question. "Yes, sir; two of 'em we had in the +house. One was for putting up the chimes; and the other—well, I can't +just remember what the other was. The beadle, old Crow, comes in, sir, +this afternoon. 'Where be the master?' says he. 'Gone over to t'other +side of Church Dykely,' says I. 'Well,' says he, upon that, 'you be +going to have some visitors presently, and it's a pity he's out.' +'Visitors, for what, Crow?' says I. 'Oh, you'll see,' says he; 'and then +perhaps you'll wish you'd bestirred yourselves to pay your just dues. +Captain Monk's patience have been running on for a goodish while, and at +last it have run clean out.' Well, sir—"</p> + +<p>She had to make a pause; unable to control her grief.</p> + +<p>"Well, sir," she went on presently, "Crow's back was hardly turned, when +up came two men, wheeling a truck. I saw 'em afar off, by the ricks +yonder. One came in; t'other stayed outside with the truck. He asked me +whether I was ready with the money for the taxes; and I told him I was +not ready, and had but a couple of shillings in the house. 'Then I must +take the value of it in kind,' says he. And without another word, he +beckons in the outside man to help him. Our middle table, a mahogany, +they seized; and the handsome oak chest, which had been our pride; and +the master's arm-chair—But, there! I can't go on."</p> + +<p>Mr. West felt nearly as sorrowful as she, and far more angry. In his +heart he believed that Captain Monk had done this oppressive thing in +revenge. A great deal of ill-feeling had existed in the parish touching +the rate made for the chimes; and the Captain assumed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> that the few who +had not yet paid it <i>would</i> not pay—not that they could not.</p> + +<p>Quitting the cottage in an impulse of anger, he walked swiftly to Leet +Hall. It lay in his duty, as he fully deemed, to avow fearlessly to +Captain Monk what he thought of this act of oppression, and to protest +against it. The beams of the setting sun, sinking below the horizon in +the still autumn evening, fell across the stubbled fields from which the +corn had not long been reaped; all around seemed to speak of peace.</p> + +<p>To accommodate two gentlemen who had come from Worcester that day to +Leet Hall on business, and wished to quit it again before dark, the +dinner had been served earlier than usual. The guests had left, but +Captain Monk was seated still over his wine in the dining-room when Mr. +West was shown in. In crossing the hall to it, he met Mrs. Carradyne, +who shook hands with him cordially.</p> + +<p>Captain Monk looked surprised. "Why, this is an unexpected pleasure—a +visit from you, Mr. Vicar," he cried, in mocking jest. "Hope you have +come to your senses! Sit down. Will you take port or sherry?"</p> + +<p>"Captain Monk," returned the Vicar, gravely, as he took the chair the +servant had placed, "I am obliged for your courtesy, but I did not +intrude upon you this evening to drink wine. I have seen a very sad +sight, and I am come hoping to induce you to repair it."</p> + +<p>"Seen what?" cried the Captain, who, it is well to mention, had been +taking his wine very freely, even for him. "A flaming sword in the sky?"</p> + +<p>"Your tenants, poor Thomas Bean and his wife, are being turned out of +house and home, or almost equivalent to it. Some of their furniture has +been seized this afternoon to satisfy the demand for these disputed +taxes."</p> + +<p>"Who disputes the taxes?"</p> + +<p>"The tax imposed for the chimes was always a disputed tax; and—"</p> + +<p>"Tush!" interrupted the Captain; "Bean owes other things as well as +taxes."</p> + +<p>"It was the last feather, sir, which broke the camel's back."</p> + +<p>"The last feather will not be taken off, whether it breaks backs or +leaves them whole," retorted the Captain, draining his glass of port and +filling it again. "Take you note of that, Mr. Parson."</p> + +<p>"Others are in the same condition as the Beans—quite unable to pay +these rates. I pray you, Captain Monk—I am here to <i>pray</i> you—not to +proceed in the same manner against them. I would also pray you, sir, to +redeem this act of oppression, by causing their goods to be returned to +these two poor, honest, hard-working people."</p> + +<p>"Hold your tongue!" retorted the Captain, aroused to anger. "A pretty +example <i>you'd</i> set, let you have your way. Every one of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> the lot shall +be made to pay to the last farthing. Who the devil is to pay, do you +suppose, if they don't?"</p> + +<p>"Rates are imposed upon the parish needlessly, Captain Monk; it has been +so ever since my time here. Pardon me for saying that if you put up +chimes to gratify yourself, you should bear the expense, and not throw +it upon those who have a struggle to get bread to eat."</p> + +<p>Captain Monk drank off another glass. "Any more treason, Parson?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mr. West, "if you like to call it so. My conscience tells me +that the whole procedure in regard to setting up these chimes is so +wrong, so manifestly unjust, that I have determined not to allow them to +be heard until the rates levied for them are refunded to the poor and +oppressed. I believe I have the power to close the belfry-tower, and I +shall act upon it."</p> + +<p>"By Jove! do you think <i>you</i> are going to stand between me and my will?" +cried the Captain passionately. "Every individual who has not yet paid +the rate shall be made to pay it to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"There is another world, Captain Monk," interposed the mild voice of the +minister, "to which, I hope, we are all—"</p> + +<p>"If you attempt to preach to me—"</p> + +<p>At this moment a spoon fell to the ground by the sideboard. The Vicar +turned to look; his back was towards it; the Captain peered also at the +end of the rapidly-darkening room: when both became aware that one of +the servants—Michael, who had shown in Mr. West—stood there; had stood +there all the time.</p> + +<p>"What are you waiting for, sirrah?" roared his master. "We don't want +<i>you</i>. Here! put this window open an inch or two before you go; the +room's close."</p> + +<p>"Shall I bring lights, sir?" asked Michael, after doing as he was +directed.</p> + +<p>"No: who wants lights? Stir the fire into a blaze."</p> + +<p>Michael left them. It was from him that thus much of the conversation +was subsequently known.</p> + +<p>Not five minutes had elapsed when a commotion was heard in the +dining-room. Then the bell rang violently, and the Captain opened the +door—overturning a chair in his passage to it—and shouted out for a +light. More than one servant flew to obey the order: in his hasty moods +their master brooked not delay: and three separate candles were carried +in.</p> + +<p>"Good lack, master!" exclaimed the butler, John Rimmer, who was a native +of Church Dykely, "what's amiss with the Parson?"</p> + +<p>"Lift him up, and loosen his neck-cloth," said Captain Monk, his tone +less imperious than usual.</p> + +<p>Mr. West lay on the hearthrug near his chair, his head resting close to +the fender. Rimmer raised his head, another servant took off his black +neck-tie; for it was only on high days that the poor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> Vicar indulged in +a white one. He gasped twice, struggled slightly, and then lay quietly +in the butler's arms.</p> + +<p>"Oh, sir!" burst forth the man in a horror-stricken voice to his master, +"this is surely death!"</p> + +<p>It surely was. George West, who had gone there but just before in the +height of health and strength, had breathed his last.</p> + +<p>How did it happen? How could it have happened? Ay, how indeed? It was a +question which has never been entirely solved in Church Leet to this +day.</p> + +<p>Captain Monk's account, both privately and at the inquest, was this: As +they talked further together, after Michael left the room, the Vicar +went on to browbeat him shamefully about the new chimes, vowing they +should never play, never be heard; at last, rising in an access of +passion, the Parson struck him (the Captain) in the face. He returned +the blow—who wouldn't return it?—and the Vicar fell. He believed his +head must have struck against the iron fender in falling: if not, if the +blow had been an unlucky one (it took effect just behind the left ear), +it was only given in self-defence. The jury, composed of Captain Monk's +tenants, expressed themselves satisfied, and returned a verdict of +Accidental Death.</p> + +<p>"A false account," pronounced poor Mrs. West, in her dire tribulation. +"My husband never struck him—never; he was not one to be goaded into +unbecoming anger, even by Captain Monk. <i>George struck no blow +whatever</i>; I can answer for it. If ever a man was murdered, he has +been."</p> + +<p>Curious rumours arose. It was said that Mrs. Carradyne, taking the air +on the terrace outside in the calmness of the autumn evening, heard the +fatal quarrel through the open window; that she heard Mr. West, after he +had received the death blow, wail forth a prophecy (or whatever it might +be called) that those chimes would surely be accursed; that whenever +their sound should be heard, so long as they were suffered to remain in +the tower, it should be the signal of woe to the Monk family.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Carradyne utterly denied this; she had not been on the terrace at +all, she said. Upon which the onus was shifted to Michael: who, it was +suspected, had stolen out to listen to the end of the quarrel, and had +heard the ominous words. Michael, in his turn, also denied it; but he +was not believed. Anyway, the covert whisper had gone abroad and would +not be laid.</p> + + +<h4>III.</h4> + +<p>Captain Monk speedily filled up the vacant living, appointing to it the +Reverend Thomas Dancox, an occasional visitor at Leet Hall, who was +looking out for one.</p> + +<p>The new Vicar turned out to be a man after the Captain's heart, a +rollicking, jovial, fox-hunting young parson, as many a parson was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> in +those days—and took small blame to himself for it. He was only a year +or two past thirty, good-looking, of taking manners and +hail-fellow-well-met with the parish in general, who liked him and +called him to his face Tom Dancox.</p> + +<p>All this pleased Captain Monk. But very soon something was to arrive +that did not please him—a suspicion that the young parson and his +daughter Katherine were on rather too good terms with one another.</p> + +<p>One day in November he stalked into the drawing-room, where Katherine +was sitting with her aunt. Hubert and Eliza were away at school, also +Mrs. Carradyne's two children.</p> + +<p>"Was Dancox here last night?" began Captain Monk.</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied Mrs. Carradyne.</p> + +<p>"And the evening before—Monday?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Carradyne felt half afraid to answer, the Captain's tone was +becoming so threatening. "I—I think so," she rather hesitatingly said. +"Was he not, Katherine?"</p> + +<p>Katherine Monk, a dark, haughty young woman, twenty-one now, turned +round with a flush on her handsome face. "Why do you ask, papa?"</p> + +<p>"I ask to be answered," replied he, standing with his hands in the +pockets of his velveteen shooting coat, a purple tinge of incipient +anger rising in his cheeks.</p> + +<p>"Then Mr. Dancox did spend Monday evening here."</p> + +<p>"And I saw him walking with you in the meadow by the rill this morning," +continued the Captain. "Look here, Katherine, <i>no sweet-hearting with +Tom Dancox</i>. He may do very well for a parson; I like him as such, as +such only, you understand; but he can be no match for you."</p> + +<p>"You are disturbing yourself unnecessarily, sir," said Katherine, her +own tone an angry one.</p> + +<p>"Well, I hope that is so; I should not like to think otherwise. Anyway, +a word in season does no harm; and, take you notice that I have spoken +it. You also, Emma."</p> + +<p>As he left the room, Mrs. Carradyne spoke, dropping her voice: +"Katherine, you know that I had already warned you. I told you it would +not do to fall into any particular friendship with Mr. Dancox; that your +father would never countenance it."</p> + +<p>"And if I were to?—and if he did not?" scornfully returned Katherine. +"What then, Aunt Emma?"</p> + +<p>"Be silent, child; you must not talk in that strain. Your papa is +perfectly right in this matter. Tom Dancox is not suitable in any +way—for <i>you</i>."</p> + +<p>This took place in November. Katherine paid little heed to the advice; +she was not one to put up with advice of any sort, and she and Mr. +Dancox met occasionally under the rose. Early in December she went with +Mr. Dancox into the Parsonage, while he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> searched for a book he was +about to lend her. That was the plea; the truth, no doubt, being that +the two wanted a bit of a chat in quiet. As ill-luck had it, when she +was coming out again, the Parson in attendance on her as far as the +gate, Captain Monk came by.</p> + +<p>A scene ensued. Captain Monk, in a terrible access of passion, vowed by +all the laws of the Medes and Persians, which alter not, that never, in +life or after death, should those two rebellious ones be man and wife, +and he invoked unheard-of penalties on their heads should they dare to +contemplate disobedience to his decree.</p> + +<p>Thenceforth there was no more open rebellion; upon the surface all +looked smooth. Captain Monk understood the folly to be at an end: that +the two had come to their senses; and he took Tom Dancox back into +favour. Mrs. Carradyne assumed the same. But Katherine had her father's +unyielding will, and the Parson was bold and careless, and in love.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The last day of the year came round, and the usual banquet would come +with it. The weather this Christmas was not like that of last; the white +snow lay on the ground, the cold biting frost hardened the glistening +icicles on the trees.</p> + +<p>And the chimes? Ready these three months past, they had not yet been +heard. They would be to-night. Whether Captain Monk wished the +remembrance of Mr. West's death to die away a bit first, or that he +preferred to open the treat on the banqueting night, certain it was that +he had kept them silent. When the church clock should toll the midnight +knell of the old year, the chimes would ring out to welcome the new one +and gladden the ears of Church Leet.</p> + +<p>But not without a remonstrance. That morning, as the Captain sat in his +study writing a letter, Mrs. Carradyne came to him.</p> + +<p>"Godfrey," she said in a low and pleading tone, "you will not suffer the +chimes to play to-night, will you? Pray do not."</p> + +<p>"Not suffer the chimes to play?" cried the Captain. "But indeed I shall. +Why, this is the special night they were put up for."</p> + +<p>"I know it, Godfrey. But—you cannot think what a strangely-strong +feeling I have against it: an instinct, it seems to me. The chimes have +brought nothing but discomfort and disaster yet; they may bring more in +the future."</p> + +<p>Captain Monk stared at her. "What d'ye mean, Emma?"</p> + +<p>"<i>I would never let them be heard</i>," she said impressively. "I would +have them taken down again. The story went about, you know, that poor +George West in dying prophesied that whenever they should be heard woe +would fall upon this house. I am not superstitious, Godfrey, but—"</p> + +<p>Sheer passion had tied, so far, Godfrey Monk's lips. "Not +superstitious!" he raved out. "You are worse than that, Emma—a fool. +How dare you bring your nonsense here? There's the door."</p> + +<p>The banquet hour approached. Nearly all the guests of last<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> year were +again present in the warm and holly-decorated dining-room, the one +notable exception being the ill-fated Parson West. Parson Dancox came in +his stead, and said grace from the post of honour at the Captain's right +hand. Captain Monk did not appear to feel any remorse or regret: he was +jovial, free, and grandly hospitable; one might suppose he had promoted +the dead clergyman to a canonry instead of to a place in the churchyard.</p> + +<p>"What became of the poor man's widow, Squire?" whispered a gentleman +from the neighbourhood of Evesham to Mr. Todhetley, who sat on the +left-hand of his host; Sir Thomas Rivers taking the foot of the table +this year.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. West? Well, we heard she opened a girls' school up in London," +breathed the Squire.</p> + +<p>"And what tale was that about his leaving a curse on the chimes?—I +never heard the rights of it."</p> + +<p>"Hush!" said the Squire cautiously. "Nobody talks of that here. Or +believes it, either. Poor West was a man to leave a blessing behind him; +never a curse."</p> + +<p>Hubert, at home for the holidays, was again at table. He was fourteen +now, tall of his age and slender, his blue eyes bright, his complexion +delicately beautiful. The pleated cambric frill of his shirt, which hung +over the collar of his Eton jacket after the fashion of the day, was +carried low in front, displaying the small white throat; his golden hair +curled naturally. A boy to admire and be proud of. The manners were more +decorous this year than they ever had been, and Hubert was allowed to +sit on. Possibly the shadow of George West's unhappy death lay +insensibly upon the party.</p> + +<p>It was about half-past nine o'clock when the butler came into the room, +bringing a small note, twisted up, to his master from Mrs. Carradyne. +Captain Monk opened it and held it towards one of the lighted branches +to read the few words it contained.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<i>A gentleman is asking to speak a word to Mr. Dancox. He says it +is important.</i>"</p></div> + +<p>Captain Monk tore the paper to bits. "<i>Not to-night</i>, tell your +mistress, is my answer," said he to Rimmer. "Hubert, you can go to your +aunt now; it's past your bed-time."</p> + +<p>There could be no appeal, as the boy knew; but he went off unwillingly +and in bitter resentment against Mrs. Carradyne. He supposed she had +sent for him.</p> + +<p>"What a cross old thing you are, Aunt Emma!" he exclaimed as he entered +the drawing-room on the other side the hall. "You won't let Harry go in +at all to the banquets, and you won't let me stay at them! Papa meant—I +think he meant—to let me remain there to hear the chimes. Why need you +have interfered to send for me?"</p> + +<p>"I neither interfered with you, Hubert, nor sent for you. A<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> gentleman, +who did not give his name and preferred to wait outside, wants to see +Mr. Dancox; that's all," said Mrs. Carradyne. "You gave my note to your +master, Rimmer?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, ma'am," replied the butler. "My master bade me say to you that his +answer was <i>not to-night</i>."</p> + +<p>Katherine Monk, her face betraying some agitation, rose from the piano. +"Was the message not given to Mr. Dancox?" she asked of Rimmer.</p> + +<p>"Not while I was there, Miss Katherine. The master tore the note into +bits, after reading it; and dropped them under the table."</p> + +<p>Now it chanced that Mr. Dancox, glancing covertly at the note while the +Captain held it to the light, had read what was written there. For a few +minutes he said nothing. The Captain was busy sending round the wine.</p> + +<p>"Captain Monk—pardon me—I saw my name on that bit of paper; it caught +my eye as you held it out," he said in a low tone. "Am I called out? Is +anyone in the parish dying?"</p> + +<p>Thus questioned, Captain Monk told the truth. No one was dying, and he +was not called out to the parish. Some gentleman was asking to speak to +him; only that.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll just see who it is, and what he wants," said Mr. Dancox, +rising. "Won't be away two minutes, sir."</p> + +<p>"Bring him back with you; tell him he'll find good wine here and jolly +cheer," said the Captain. And Mr. Dancox went out, swinging his +table-napkin in his hand.</p> + +<p>In crossing the hall he met Katherine, exchanged a hasty word with her, +let fall the serviette on a chair as he caught up his hat and overcoat, +and went out. Katherine ran upstairs.</p> + +<p>Hubert lay down on one of the drawing-room sofas. In point of fact, that +young gentleman could not walk straight. A little wine takes effect on +youngsters, especially when they are not accustomed to it. Mrs. +Carradyne told Hubert the best place for him was bed. Not a bit of it, +the boy answered: he should go out on the terrace at twelve o'clock; the +chimes would be fine, heard out there. He fell asleep almost as he +spoke; presently he woke up, feeling headachy, cross and stupid, and of +his own accord went up to bed.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, the dining-room was getting jollier and louder as the time +passed on towards midnight. Great wonder was expressed at the non-return +of the parson; somebody must be undoubtedly grievously sick or dying. +Mr. Speck, the quiet little Hurst Leet doctor, dissented from this. +Nobody was dying in the parish, he affirmed, or sick enough to need a +priest; as a proof of it, <i>he</i> had not been sent for.</p> + +<p>Ring, ring, ring! broke forth the chimes on the quiet midnight air, as +the church clock finished striking twelve. It was a sweet sound; even +those prejudiced against the chimes could hear that: the windows had +been opened in readiness.</p><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p> + +<p>The glasses were charged; the company stood on their legs, some of them +not at all steady legs just then, bending their ears to listen. Captain +Monk stood in his place, majestically waving his head and his left hand +to keep time in harmony with the Bay of Biscay. His right hand held his +goblet in readiness for the toast when the sounds should cease.</p> + +<p>Ring, ring, ring! chimed the last strokes of the bells, dying away to +faintness on the still evening air. Suddenly, amidst the hushed silence, +and whilst the sweet melody fell yet unbroken on the room, there arose a +noise as of something falling outside on the terrace, mingled with a +wild scream and the crash of breaking glass.</p> + +<p>One of the guests rushed to the window, and put his head out of it. So +far as he could see, he said (perhaps his sight was somewhat obscured), +it was a looking-glass lying further up on the terrace.</p> + +<p>Thrown out from one of the upper windows! scornfully pronounced the +Captain, full of wrath that it should have happened at that critical +moment to mar the dignity of his coming toast. And he gave the toast +heartily; and the new year came in for them all with good wishes and +good wine.</p> + +<p>Some little time yet ere the company finally rose. The mahogany frame of +the broken looking-glass, standing on end, was conspicuous on the white +ground in the clear frosty night, as they streamed out from the house. +Mr. Speck, whose sight was rather remarkably good, peered at it +curiously from the hall steps, and then walked quickly along the snowy +terrace towards it.</p> + +<p>Sure enough, it was a looking-glass, broken in its fall from an open +window above. But, lying by it in the deep snow, in his white +nightshirt, was Hubert Monk.</p> + +<p>When the chimes began to play, Hubert was not asleep. Sitting up in bed, +he disposed himself to listen. After a bit they began to grow fainter; +Hubert impatiently dashed to the window and threw it up to its full +height as he jumped on the dressing-table, when in some unfortunate way +he overbalanced himself, and pitched out on the terrace beneath, +carrying the looking-glass with him. The fall was not much, for his room +was in one of the wings, the windows of which were low; but the boy had +struck his head in falling, and there he had lain, insensible, on the +terrace, one hand still clasping the looking-glass.</p> + +<p>All the rosy wine-tint fading away to a sickly paleness on the Captain's +face, he looked down on his well-beloved son. The boy was carried +indoors to his room, reviving with the movement.</p> + +<p>"Young bones are elastic," pronounced Mr. Speck, when he had examined +him; "and none of these are broken. He will probably have a cold from +the exposure; that's about the worst."</p> + +<p>He seemed to have it already: he was shivering from head to foot now, as +he related the above particulars. All the family had assembled round +him, except Katherine.</p><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Where is Katherine?" suddenly inquired her father, noticing her +absence.</p> + +<p>"I cannot think where she is," said Mrs. Carradyne. "I have not seen her +for an hour or two. Eliza says she is not in her room; I sent her to +see. She is somewhere about, of course."</p> + +<p>"Go and look for your sister, Eliza. Tell her to come here," said +Captain Monk. But though Eliza went at once, her quest was useless.</p> + +<p>Miss Katherine was not in the house: Miss Katherine had made a moonlight +flitting from it that evening with the Reverend Thomas Dancox.</p> + +<p>You will hear more in the next paper.</p> + +<p class="name"><span class="smcap">Johnny Ludlow</span>.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/01de.jpg" + alt="Decorative" + title="Decorative" /> +</div> + + +<h2>A SONG.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Blue eyes that laugh at early morn<br /></span> +<span class="i2">May weep ere close of day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And weeping is a thing of scorn<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To those whose hearts are gay.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, simple souls, beware, beware!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Time's finger changeth smile to care!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Gold locks that glitter as the sun<br /></span> +<span class="i2">May sudden fade to grey;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And who shall favour anyone<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Despoiled of bright array?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, simple souls, beware of loss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Time's finger changeth gold to dross!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Good lack! we talk, yet all the same<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We throw our words away!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The smiles, the gold, the tears, the shame,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Each tries them in his day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Time, with vengeful finger, makes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of fondest goods our chief mistakes!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="name"><span class="smcap">G.B. Stuart</span>.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p> +<h2>MISS KATE MARSDEN.</h2> + + +<p>In this practical age we are inclined to estimate people by the worth of +what they do, and thus it happens that Miss Kate Marsden and her mission +are creating an interest and genuine admiration in the hearts of the +people such as few individuals or circumstances have power to call +forth.</p> + +<p>The work she has set herself to do, regardless of the dangers and +difficulties she will have to encounter, seems to us, who look out from +the security of our homes in this favoured land, almost beyond human +power to perform. It is, in fact, appalling.</p> + +<p>Even Miss Nightingale, who never exaggerates, writes of this lady: +"Surely no human being ever needed the loving Father's help and guidance +more than this brave woman." And in this the readers of <span class="smcap">The +Argosy</span> will fully agree.</p> + +<p>Her purpose is to travel through Russia to the extreme points of +Siberia, chiefly for the purpose of seeing the condition of those +affected with incurable disease, and what can be done to improve their +surroundings and mitigate their sufferings.</p> + +<p>This, if it stood alone, would be a grand work; but it is by no means +all she hopes to do.</p> + +<p>It is her purpose to join the gangs of exiles on their way to Siberia, +to note their treatment, to halt at their halting-stages, and see if it +be true that there is an utter absence of all sanitary appliances; that +filth and cruelty are in evidence; and that the strongest constitutions +break down under conditions unfit for brute beasts. She will investigate +the assertions that delicate innocent women and children are chained to +vile criminals, and so made to take their way on foot thousands of miles +to far-off Siberia; often for no other crime than some careless words +spoken against the Greek Church or the Czar.</p> + +<p>She hopes fully to inspect the prisons and mines in those far-off +regions, described by the Russians themselves as "living tombs." She +will, if possible, go into the cells of the condemned exiles, whose +walls are bare, except for their living covering of myriads of insects; +and, lastly, she intends to visit the Jews' quarters, and satisfy our +minds as to the existence of the terrible cruelties inflicted upon this +persecuted race, the hearing of which alone is heart-breaking.</p> + +<p>And all through her perilous journeys we may be sure she will lose no +opportunity of comforting and helping the suffering ones who come under +her notice, no matter what their race or condition.</p> + +<p>This line of conduct will have its dangers; but she holds not her life +dear unto her, so that she may accomplish her heart's desire. The +practical result looked forward to by her is, that, having gained an +intimate knowledge of the sufferings and cruelties inflicted upon so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> +many thousands of Russian subjects, and of which there have been such +conflicting accounts, she may be admitted a second time into the +presence of the Empress, there to place the actual scenes before her, +and to plead the cause of the sufferers personally.</p> + +<p>Strange to say, she is convinced in her own mind that the Emperor and +Empress of Russia are ignorant of a great deal that is done in their +name; or, as the phrase is, "By order of the Czar;" and that they know +little of the results of those Edicts and Ukase which are causing such +dire misery to thousands of their subjects, not only to the +long-suffering Jews but also to Christian women and children; and it is +her belief that if the truth could be placed before them, as she hopes +to place it, they will attack the evil even at the cost of life or +crown.</p> + +<p>This is quite a different view from that which obtains generally; and if +Miss Kate Marsden should be able to prove her point, and bring before +them the pictures of what she may see on her journey to and from +Siberia, she will score a result such as has fallen to no one's +endeavour hitherto.</p> + +<p>It is only now and then in a lifetime that we meet a woman capable of +such a grand work as this which Miss Kate Marsden has taken upon +herself; and the reason is that the qualifications necessary are so +rarely found in combination in one and the same individual. Many among +us may have one or other of the characteristics, but it is the existence +of them all in one person that makes the heroine and gives the power.</p> + +<p>You cannot be an hour in Miss Kate Marsden's company without becoming +aware of her enthusiasm, her courage, her self-devotion, her +fearlessness, and above all her simple child-like faith. It avails +nothing that you place before her the trials, the horrors, the dangers, +the possible failure of such an undertaking as hers. The necessity of +the work to be done she considers imperative, and the certainty in her +mind that it is her mission to do it carries all before it.</p> + +<p>The bravest among us would hesitate before deciding upon a tour in +Russia and Siberia, supposing it were one of pleasure or of scientific +research, because even under these favourable conditions we should be +subject to ignominious surveillance night and day, and the chances of +leaving the country when we pleased would be very small; but what can we +say of a young and delicate woman who, voluntarily and without thought +of self, deliberately walks into the country where deeds are done daily +which make us shrink with fear, and which, for very shame for the +century in which we live, we try hard not to believe? It is as if with +eyes open she walked into a den of lions and expected them to give her a +loving welcome and a free egress.</p> + +<p>Heaven help her, for she is in the midst of it and has begun her work; +the result of her fearlessness remains to be seen. I doubt greatly +whether we shall be allowed to receive reports of her daily life out +there, even where postal regulations are in force. We can<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> but follow +her on her way from Moscow to Tomsk in thought, and picture to ourselves +the thousands of exiles she will find waiting there herded together like +brute beasts. She will not turn from them, even though typhoid be raging +amongst them—one can see her moving in and out among these miserable, +debased human beings, who lie tossing on those terrible wooden shelves, +helping them according to their needs; for she carries with her remedies +for pain and disease of body, and her simple faith will find means of +comforting heart and soul.</p> + +<p>If any of those twenty thousand exiles who have this year trod the weary +way between Petersburg and Tomsk, and on again to the far-off districts +of Siberia, should hear of the coming of this gentle woman, strong only +in her love for them, I think it would kindle a spark of hope again in +their hearts. They would know that at least they were remembered by +someone in the land of the living.</p> + +<p>Miss Kate Marsden has dared so much for these poor suffering ones that +she will not easily be turned aside by excessive politeness or brutality +on the part of officials from seeing the actual state of things. She +will not, I think, be content with viewing the Provincial Prison at +Tomsk, which is light and airy and occupied by local offenders, instead +of the <i>forwarding</i> prison which, according to the accounts that reach +us, is a disgrace to the civilized world, and where the exiles are +lodged while waiting to be "forwarded."</p> + +<p>I pity Miss Kate Marsden if it should ever be her lot to witness the +knout used to a woman without the power of stopping it, or retaliating +upon the brute who is inflicting it. It would be almost the death of +her.</p> + +<p>If we have been successful in interesting the readers of <span class="smcap">The +Argosy</span> in this lady and her mission, they will like to know that +she is not a wilful person starting off on a wild-goose chase on a +generous impulse without at all counting the cost. On the contrary, the +work she is now doing has been the desire of her life, and all the +training and discipline to which she has subjected herself has been for +the purpose of fitting her for it.</p> + +<p>From her earliest childhood she has been an indefatigable worker among +the sick and wounded, with whom she has ever had the most intense +sympathy, and consequently an extraordinary power to soothe and comfort.</p> + +<p>Young as she was at the time of the Turko-Russian war, she did good +service on the battle-fields and worked untiringly among every kind of +depressing surrounding. The beautiful cross upon her breast is a gift +from the Empress of Russia, as a recognition of the good work she did +among the wounded soldiers at that time. From that day to this, whether +in England or in New Zealand, her work has been steadily going on, ever +gaining information and experience, and at the same time doing an amount +of good difficult to calculate.</p> + +<p>For one whole year she became, what I call for want of a better<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> name, +an itinerant teacher of ambulance work, in places out of reach of +doctors in New Zealand. She taught the people how to deal with accidents +caused by the falling of trees, cuts with the axe, or kicks from vicious +horses, all of which are of frequent occurrence in the Bush. Again, she +taught the miners how to make use of surrounding materials in case of an +injury: how to bandage, and how to make a stretcher for moving a wounded +person from one place to another with such things as were handy, viz., +with two poles and a man's coat, the poles to be placed through the arms +and the coat itself to be buttoned securely over the poles. Another +thing she taught in these out-of-the-way places was how to deal with +burns and foreign matter in the eye or ear—also accidents of frequent +occurrence.</p> + +<p>Many interesting and exciting scenes could be related of this part of +her life, but I hesitate to do more than show her training and fitness +for the work she is now doing.</p> + +<p>It is a work we all want done, and would gladly take part in had we the +qualifications for it. It is a work which, if well and honestly done, +will deserve the best thanks of England and of the whole civilized +world. She may not live to tell us, but her life will not have been +lived in vain if she prove successful in getting at the truth of what is +done <i>By order of the Czar</i>, and presenting it to the Czar himself.</p> + +<p>We cannot travel with her bodily; we cannot hunger or perish with cold +in her company; we cannot fight with dogs and wolves as she must do; we +cannot, with her, go into the dens of immorality and fever; but we can +determine upon some way of helping her, and I think we shall only be too +thankful to join her friends who by giving of their means are +participating in so grand a mission.</p> + + +<div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/02de.jpg" + alt="Decorative" + title="Decorative" /> +</div> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE FATE OF THE HARA DIAMOND.</h2> + +<h4>A Story Re-told.</h4> + + + +<hr style="width: 35%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER I.</h2> + +<h3>MY ARRIVAL AT DEEPLEY WALLS.</h3> + + +<p> +"Miss Janet Hope,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To the care of Lady Chillington,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Deepley Walls, near Eastbury,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Midlandshire."</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>"There, miss, I'm sure that will do famously," said Chirper, the +overworked, oldish young person whose duty it was to attend to the +innumerable wants of the young lady boarders of Park Hill Seminary. She +had just written out, in a large sprawling hand, a card as above which +card was presently to be nailed on to the one small box that held the +whole of my worldly belongings.</p> + +<p>"And I think, miss," added Chirper, meditatively, as she held out the +card at arm's length, and gazed at it admiringly, "that if I was to +write out another card similar, and tie it round your arm, it would, +mayhap, help you in getting safe to your journey's end."</p> + +<p>I, a girl of twelve, was the Janet Hope indicated above, and I had been +looking over Chirper's shoulder with wondering eyes while she addressed +the card.</p> + +<p>"But who is Lady Chillington, and where is Deepley Walls, and what have +I to do with either, Chirper, please?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"If there is one thing in little girls more hateful than another, it is +curiosity," answered Chirper, with her mouth half-full of nails. +"Curiosity has been the bane of many of our sex. Witness Bluebeard's +unhappy wife. If you want to know more, you must ask Mrs. Whitehead. I +have my instructions and I act on them."</p> + +<p>Meeting Mrs. Whitehead half-an-hour later, as she was coming down the +stone corridor that led from the refectory, I did ask that lady +precisely the same questions that I had put to Chirper. Her frosty +glance, filled with a cold surprise, smote me even through her +spectacles; and I shrank a little, abashed at my own boldness.</p> + +<p>"The habit of asking questions elsewhere than in the class-room should +not be encouraged in young ladies," said Mrs. Whitehead, with a sort of +prim severity. "The other young ladies are gone home; you are about to +follow their example."</p> + +<p>"But, Mrs. Whitehead—madam," I pleaded, "I never had any other home +than Park Hill."</p> + +<p>"More questioning, Miss Hope? Fie! Fie!"</p><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p> + +<p>And with a lean finger uplifted in menacing reproval, Mrs. Whitehead +sailed on her way, nor deigned me another word.</p> + +<p>I stole out into the playground, wondering, wretched, and yet smitten +through with faint delicious thrillings of a new-found happiness such as +I had often dreamed of, but had scarcely dared hope ever to realise. I, +Janet Hope, going home! It was almost too incredible for belief. I +wandered about like one mazed—like one who, stepping suddenly out of +darkness into sunshine, is dazzled by an intolerable brightness +whichever way he turns his eyes. And yet I was wretched: for was not +Miss Chinfeather dead? And that, too, was a fact almost too incredible +for belief.</p> + +<p>As I wandered, this autumn morning, up and down the solitary playground, +I went back in memory as far as memory would carry me, but only to find +that Miss Chinfeather and Park Hill Seminary blocked up the way. Beyond +them lay darkness and mystery. Any events in my child's life that might +have happened before my arrival at Park Hill had for me no authentic +existence. I had been part and parcel of Miss Chinfeather and the +Seminary for so long a time that I could not dissociate myself from them +even in thought. Other pupils had had holidays, and letters, and +presents, and dear ones at home of whom they often talked; but for me +there had been none of these things. I knew that I had been placed at +Park Hill when a very little girl by some, to me, mysterious and unknown +person, but further than that I knew nothing. The mistress of Park Hill +had not treated me in any way differently from her other pupils; but had +not the bills contracted on my account been punctually paid by somebody, +I am afraid that the even-handed justice on which she prided +herself—which, in conjunction with her aquiline nose and a certain +antique severity of deportment, caused her to be known amongst us girls +as <i>The Roman Matron</i>—would have been somewhat ruffled, and that +sentence of expulsion from those classic walls would have been promptly +pronounced and as promptly carried into effect.</p> + +<p>Happily no such necessity had ever arisen; and now the Roman Matron lay +dead in the little corner room on the second floor, and had done with +pupils, and half yearly accounts, and antique deportment for ever.</p> + +<p>In losing Miss Chinfeather I felt as though the corner-stone of my life +had been rent away. She was too cold, she was altogether too far removed +for me to regard her with love, or even with that modified feeling which +we call affection. But then no such demonstration was looked for by Miss +Chinfeather. It was a weakness above which she rose superior. But if my +child's love was a gift which she would have despised, she looked for +and claimed my obedience—the resignation of my will to hers, the +absorption of my individuality in her own, the gradual elimination from +my life of all its colour and freshness. She strove earnestly, and with +infinite patience, to change me from a dreamy, passionate child—a child +full<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> of strange wild moods, capricious, and yet easily touched either +to laughter or tears—into a prim and elegant young lady, colourless and +formal, and of the most orthodox boarding-school pattern; and if she did +not quite succeed in the attempt, the fault, such as it was, must be set +down to my obstinate disposition and not to any lack of effort on the +part of Miss Chinfeather. And now this powerful influence had vanished +from my life, from the world itself, as swiftly and silently as a +snowflake in the sun. The grasp of the hard but not unkindly hand, that +had held me so firmly in the narrow groove in which it wished me to +move, had been suddenly relaxed, and everything around me seemed +tottering to its fall. Three nights ago Miss Chinfeather had retired to +rest, as well, to all appearance, and as cheerful as ever she had been; +next morning she had been found dead in bed. This was what they told us +pupils; but so great was the awe in which I held the mistress of Park +Hill Seminary that I could not conceive of Death even as venturing to +behave disrespectfully towards her. I pictured him in my girlish fancy +as knocking at her chamber door in the middle of the night, and after +apologising for the interruption, asking whether she was ready to +accompany him. Then would she who was thus addressed arise, and wrap an +ample robe about her, and place her hand with solemn sweetness in that +of the Great Captain, and the two would pass out together into the +starlit night, and Miss Chinfeather would be seen of mortal eyes +nevermore.</p> + +<p>Such was the picture that had haunted my brain for two days and as many +nights, while I wandered forlorn through house and playground, or lay +awake on my little bed. I had said farewell to one pupil after another +till all were gone, and the riddle which I had been putting to myself +continually for the last forty-eight hours had now been solved for me by +Mrs. Whitehead, and I had been told that I too was going home.</p> + +<p>"To the care of Lady Chillington, Deepley Walls, Midlandshire." The +words repeated themselves again and again in my brain, and became a +greater puzzle with every repetition. I had never to my knowledge heard +of either the person or the place. I knew nothing of one or the other. I +only knew that my heart thrilled strangely at the mention of the word +<i>Home</i>; that unbidden tears started to my eyes at the thought that +perhaps—only perhaps—in that as yet unknown place there might be +someone who would love me just a little. "Father—Mother." I spoke the +words, but they sounded unreal to me, and as if uttered by another. I +spoke them again, holding out my arms and crying aloud. All my heart +seemed to go out in the cry, but only the hollow winds answered me as +they piped mournfully through the yellowing leaves, a throng of which +went rustling down the walk as though stirred by the footsteps of a +ghost. Then my eyes grew blind with tears and I wept silently for a time +as if my heart would break.</p><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p> + +<p>But tears were a forbidden luxury at Park Hill, and when, a little later +on, I heard Chirper calling me by name, I made haste to dry my eyes and +compose my features. She scanned me narrowly as I ran up to her. "You +dear, soft-hearted little thing!" she said. And with that she stooped +suddenly and gave me a hearty kiss, that might have been heard a dozen +yards away. I was about to fling my arms round her neck, but she stopped +me, saying, "That will do, dear. Mrs. Whitehead is waiting for us at the +door."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Whitehead was watching us through the glass door which led into the +playground. "The coach will be here in half-an-hour, Miss Hope," she +said; "so that you have not much time for your preparations."</p> + +<p>I stood like one stunned for a moment or two. Then I said: "If you +please, Mrs. Whitehead, may I see Miss Chinfeather before I go?"</p> + +<p>Her thin, straight lips quivered slightly, but in her eyes I read only +cold disapproval of my request. "Really," she said, "what a singular +child you must be. I scarcely know what to say."</p> + +<p>"Oh, if you please!" I urged. "Miss Chinfeather was always kind to me. I +remember her as long as I can remember anything. To see her once +more—for the last time. It would seem to me cruel to go away without."</p> + +<p>"Follow me," she said, almost in a whisper. So I followed her softly up +stairs into the little corner room where Miss Chinfeather lay in white +and solemn state, grandly indifferent to all mundane matters. As I +gazed, it seemed but an hour ago since I had heard those still lips +conjugating the verb mourir for the behoof of poor ignorant me, and the +words came back to me, and I could not help repeating them to myself as +I looked: Je meurs, tu meurs, etc.</p> + +<p>I bent over and kissed the marble-cold forehead and said farewell in my +heart, and went downstairs without a word.</p> + +<p>Half-an-hour later the district coach, a splendid vision, pulled up +impetuously at the gates. I was ready to the moment. Mrs. Whitehead's +frosty fingers touched mine for an instant; she imprinted a chill kiss +on my cheek and looked relieved. "Good-bye, my dear Miss Hope, and God +bless you," she said. "Strive to bear in mind through after life the +lessons that have been instilled into you at Park Hill Seminary. Present +my respectful compliments to Lady Chillington, and do not forget your +catechism."</p> + +<p>At this point the guard sounded an impatient summons on his bugle; +Chirper picked up my box, seized me by the hand, and hurried with me to +the coach. My luggage found a place on the roof; I was unceremoniously +bundled inside; Chirper gave me another of her hearty kisses, and +pressed a crooked sixpence into my hand "for luck," as she whispered. I +am sure there was a real tear in her eye as she did so. Next moment we +were off.</p> + +<p>I kept my eyes fixed on the Seminary as long as it remained in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> view, +especially on the little corner room. It seemed to me that I must be a +very wicked girl indeed, because I felt no real sorrow at quitting the +place that had been my home for so many years. I could not feel anything +but secretly glad, but furtively happy with a happiness which I felt +ashamed of acknowledging even to myself. Miss Chinfeather's white and +solemn face, as seen in her coffin, haunted my memory, but even of her I +thought only with a sort of chastened regret. She had never touched my +heart. There had been about her a bleakness of nature that effectually +chilled any tender buds of liking or affection that might in the +ordinary course of events have grown up and blossomed round her life. +Therefore, in my child's heart there was no lasting sorrow for her +death, no gracious memories of her that would stay with me, and smell +sweet, long after she herself should be dust.</p> + +<p>My eight miles' ride by coach was soon over. It ended at the railway +station of the county town. The guard of the coach had, I suppose, +received his secret instructions. Almost before I knew what had +happened, I found myself in a first-class carriage, with a ticket for +Eastbury in my hand, and committed to the care of another guard, he of +the railway this time—a fiery-faced man, with immense red whiskers, who +came and surveyed me as though I were some contraband article, but +finished by nodding his head and saying with a smile, "I dessay we shall +be good friends, miss, before we get to the end of our journey."</p> + +<p>It was my first journey by rail, and the novelty of it filled me with +wonder and delight. The train by which I travelled was a fast one, and +after my first feeling of fright at the rapidity of the motion had +merged into one of intense pleasure and exhilaration of mind, I could +afford to look back on my recent coach experience with a sort of pitying +superiority, as on a something that was altogether <i>rococo</i> and out of +date. Already the rash of new ideas into my mind was so powerful that +the old landmarks of my life seemed in danger of being swept clean away. +Already it seemed days instead of only a brief hour or two since I had +bidden Mrs. Whitehead farewell, and had taken my last look at Park Hill +Seminary.</p> + +<p>The red-faced guard was as good as his word; he and I became famous +friends before I reached the end of my journey. At every station at +which we stopped he came to the window to see how I was getting on, and +whether I was in want of anything, and was altogether so kind to me that +I was quite sorry to part from him when the train reached Eastbury, and +left me, a minute later, standing, a solitary waif, on the little +platform.</p> + +<p>The one solitary fly of which the station could boast was laid under +contribution. My little box was tossed on to its roof; I myself was shut +up inside; the word was given, "To Deepley Walls;" the station was left +behind, and away we went, jolting and rumbling along the quiet country +lanes, and under over-arching trees, all aglow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> just now with autumn's +swift-fading beauty. The afternoon was closing in, and the wind was +rising, sweeping up with melancholy soughs from the dim wooded hollows +where it had lain asleep till the sun went down; garnering up the fallen +leaves like a cunning miser, wherever it could find a hiding-place for +them, and then dying suddenly down, and seeming to hold its breath as if +listening for the footsteps of the coming winter.</p> + +<p>In the western sky hung a huge tumbled wrack of molten cloud like the +ruins of some vast temple of the gods of eld. Chasmed buttresses, +battlements overthrown; on the horizon a press of giants, shoulder +against shoulder, climbing slowly to the rescue; in mid-sky a praying +woman; farther afield a huge head, and a severed arm the fingers of +which were clenched in menace: all these things I saw, and a score +others, as the clouds changed from minute to minute in form and +brightness, while the stars began to glow out like clusters of silver +lilies in the eastern sky.</p> + +<p>We kept jolting on for so long a time through the twilight lanes, and +the evening darkened so rapidly, that I began to grow frightened. It was +like being lifted out of a dungeon, when the old fly drew up with a +jerk, and a shout of "House there!" and when I looked out and saw that +we were close to the lodge entrance of some park.</p> + +<p>Presently a woman, with a child in her arms, came out of the lodge and +proceeded to open the gate for us. Said the driver—"How's Johnny +to-night?"</p> + +<p>The woman shouted something in reply, but I don't think the old fellow +heard her.</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay," he called out, "Johnny will be a famous young shaver one of +these days;" and with that, he whipped up his horse, and away we went.</p> + +<p>The drive up the avenue, for such at the time I judged it to be, and +such it proved to be, did not occupy many minutes. The fly came to a +stand, and the driver got down and opened the door. "Now, young lady, +here you are," he said; and I found myself in front of the main entrance +to Deepley Walls.</p> + +<p>It was too dark by this time for me to discern more than the merest +outline of the place. I saw that it was very large, and I noticed that +not even one of its hundred windows showed the least glimmer of light. +It loomed vast, dark and silent, as if deserted by every living thing.</p> + +<p>The old driver gave a hearty pull at the bell, and the muffled clamour +reached me where I stood. I was quaking with fears and apprehensions of +that unknown future on whose threshold I was standing. Would Love or +Hate open for me the doors of Deepley Walls? I was strung to such a +pitch that it seemed impossible for any lesser passion to be handmaiden +to my needs.</p> + +<p>What I saw when the massive door was opened was an aged woman, dressed +like a superior domestic, who, in sharp accents,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> demanded to know what +we meant by disturbing a quiet family in that unseemly way. She was +holding one hand over her eyes, and trying to make out our appearance +through the gathering darkness. I stepped close up to her. "I am Miss +Janet Hope, from Park Hill Seminary," I said, "and I wish to speak with +Lady Chillington."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<h3>THE MISTRESS OF DEEPLEY WALLS.</h3> + + +<p>The words were hardly out of my lips when the woman shrank suddenly +back, as though struck by an invisible hand, and gave utterance to an +inarticulate cry of wonder and alarm. Then, striding forward, she seized +me by the wrist, and drew me into the lamp-lighted hall. "Child! child! +why have you come here?" she cried, scanning my face with eager eyes. +"In all the wide world this is the last place you should have come to."</p> + +<p>"Miss Chinfeather is dead, and all the young ladies have been sent to +their homes. I have no home, so they have sent me here."</p> + +<p>"What shall I do? What will her ladyship say?" cried the woman, in a +frightened voice. "How shall I ever dare to tell her?"</p> + +<p>"Who rang the bell, Dance, a few minutes ago? And to whom are you +talking?"</p> + +<p>The voice sounded so suddenly out of the semi-darkness at the upper end +of the large hall, which was lighted only by a small oil lamp, that both +the woman and I started. Looking in the direction from which the sound +had come, I could dimly make out, through the obscurity, the figures of +two women who had entered without noise through the curtained doorway, +close to which they were now standing. One of the two was very tall, and +was dressed entirely in black. The second one, who was less tall, was +also dressed in black, except that she seemed to have something white +thrown over her head and shoulders; but I was too far away to make out +any details.</p> + +<p>"Hush! don't you speak," whispered the woman warningly to me. "Leave me +to break the news to her ladyship." With that, she left me standing on +the threshold, and hurried towards the upper end of the hall.</p> + +<p>The tall personage in black, then, with the harsh voice—high pitched, +and slightly cracked—was Lady Chillington! How fast my heart beat! If +only I could have slipped out unobserved I would never have braved my +fortune within those walls again.</p> + +<p>She who had been called Dance went up to the two ladies, curtsied +deeply, and began talking in a low, earnest voice. Hardly, however, had +she spoken a dozen words when the lesser of the two ladies flung up her +arms with a cry like that of some wounded<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> creature, and would have +fallen to the ground had not Dance caught her round the waist and so +held her.</p> + +<p>"What folly is this?" cried Lady Chillington, sternly, striking the +pavement of the hall sharply with the iron ferrule of her cane. "To your +room, Sister Agnes! For such poor weak fools as you solitude is the only +safe companion. But, remember your oath! Not a word; not a word." With +one lean hand uplifted, and menacing forefinger, she emphasised those +last warning words.</p> + +<p>She who had been addressed as Sister Agnes raised herself, with a deep +sigh, from the shoulder of Dance, cast one long look in the direction of +the spot where I was standing, and vanished slowly through the curtained +arch. Then Dance took up the broken thread of her narration, and Lady +Chillington, grim and motionless, listened without a word.</p> + +<p>Even after Dance had done speaking, her ladyship stood for some time +looking straight before her, but saying nothing in reply. I felt +intuitively that my fate was hanging on the decision of those few +moments, but I neither stirred nor spoke.</p> + +<p>At length the silence was broken by Lady Chillington. "Take the child +away," she said; "attend to her wants, make her presentable, and bring +her to me in the Green Saloon after dinner. It will be time enough +to-morrow to consider what must be done with her."</p> + +<p>Dance curtsied again. Her ladyship sailed slowly across the hall, and +passed out through another curtained doorway.</p> + +<p>Dance's first act was to pay and dismiss the driver, who had been +waiting outside all this time. Then, taking me by the hand, "Come along +with me, dear," she said. "Why, I declare, you look quite white and +frightened! You have nothing to fear, child. We shall not eat you—at +least, not just yet; not till we have fed you up a bit."</p> + +<p>At the end of a long corridor was Mrs. Dance's own room, into which I +was now ushered. Scarcely had I made a few changes in my toilette when +tea for two persons was brought in, and Mrs. Dance and I sat down to +table. The old lady was well on with her second cup before she made any +remark other than was required by the necessities of the occasion.</p> + +<p>I have called her an old woman, and such she looked in my youthful eyes, +although her years were only about sixty. She wore a dark brown dress +and a black silk apron, and had on a cap with thick frilled borders, +under which her grey hair was neatly snooded away. She looked ruddy and +full of health. A shrewd, sensible woman, evidently; yet with a motherly +kindness about her that made me cling to her with a child's unerring +instinct.</p> + +<p>"You look tired, poor thing," she said, as she leisurely stirred her +tea; "and well you may, considering the long journey you have had +to-day. I don't suppose that her ladyship will keep you more than ten +minutes in the Green Saloon, and after that you can go to bed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> as soon +as you like. What a surprise for all of us your coming has been! Dear, +dear! who would have expected such a thing this morning? But I knew by +the twitching of my corns that something uncommon was going to happen. I +was really frightened of telling her ladyship that you were here. +There's no knowing how she might have taken it; and there's no knowing +what she will decide to do with you to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"But what has Lady Chillington to do with me in any way?" I asked. +"Before this morning I never even heard her name; and now it seems that +she is to do what she likes with me."</p> + +<p>"That she will do what she likes with you, you may depend, dear," said +Mrs. Dance. "As to how she happens to have the right so to do, that is +another thing, and one about which it is not my place to talk nor yours +to question me. That she possesses such a right you may make yourself +certain. All that you have to do is to obey and to ask no questions."</p> + +<p>I sat in distressed and bewildered silence for a little while. Then I +ventured to say: "Please not to think me rude, but I should like to know +who Sister Agnes is."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Dance stirred uneasily in her chair and bent her eyes on the fire, +but did not immediately answer my question.</p> + +<p>"Sister Agnes is Lady Chillington's companion," she said at last. "She +reads to her, and writes her letters, and talks to her, and all that, +you know. Sister Agnes is a Roman Catholic, and came here from the +convent of Saint Ursula. However, she is not a nun, but something like +one of those Sisters of Mercy in the large towns, who go about among +poor people and visit the hospitals and prisons. She is allowed to live +here always, and Lady Chillington would hardly know how to get through +the day without her."</p> + +<p>"Is she not a relative of Lady Chillington?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"No, not a relative," answered Dance. "You must try to love her a great +deal, my dear Miss Janet; for if angels are ever allowed to visit this +vile earth, Sister Agnes is one of them. But there goes her ladyship's +bell. She is ready to receive you."</p> + +<p>I had washed away the stains of travel, and had put on my best frock, +and Dance was pleased to say that I looked very nice, "though, perhaps, +a trifle more old-fashioned than a girl of your age ought to look." Then +she laid down a few rules for my guidance when in the presence of Lady +Chillington, and led the way to the Green Saloon, I following with a +timorous heart.</p> + +<p>Dance flung open the folding-doors of the big room. "Miss Janet Hope to +see your ladyship," she called out; and next moment the doors closed +behind me, and I was left standing there alone.</p> + +<p>"Come nearer—come nearer," said her ladyship's cracked voice, as with a +long, lean hand she beckoned me to approach.</p> + +<p>I advanced slowly up the room, stopped and curtsied. Lady Chillington +pointed out a high footstool about three yards from her chair.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> I +curtsied again, and sat down on it. During the interview that followed +my quick eyes had ample opportunity for taking a mental inventory of +Lady Chillington and her surroundings.</p> + +<p>She had exchanged the black dress in which I first saw her for one of +green velvet, trimmed with ermine. This dress was made with short +sleeves and low body, so as to leave exposed her ladyship's arms, long, +lean and skinny, and her scraggy neck. Her nose was hooked and her chin +pointed. Between the two shone a row of large white, even teeth, which +long afterwards I knew to be artificial. Equally artificial was the mass +of short black, frizzly curls that crowned her head, which was +unburdened with cap or covering of any kind. Her eyebrows were dyed to +match her hair. Her cheeks, even through the powder with which they were +thickly smeared, showed two spots of brilliant red, which no one less +ignorant than I would have accepted without question as the last genuine +remains of the bloom of youth. But at that first interview I accepted +everything au pied de la lettre, without doubt or question of any kind.</p> + +<p>Her ladyship wore long earrings of filigree gold. Round her neck was a +massive gold chain. On her fingers sparkled several rings of +price—diamonds, rubies and opals. In figure her ladyship was tall, and +upright as a dart. She was, however, slightly lame of one foot, which +necessitated the use of a cane when walking. Lady Chillington's cane was +ivory-headed, and had a gold plate let into it, on which was engraved +her crest and initials. She was seated in an elaborately-carved +high-backed chair, near a table on which were the remains of a dessert +for one person.</p> + +<p>The Green Saloon was a large gloomy room; at least it looked gloomy as I +saw it for the first time, lighted up by four wax candles where twenty +were needed. These four candles being placed close by where Lady +Chillington was sitting, left the other end of the saloon in comparative +darkness. The furniture was heavy, formal and old-fashioned. Gloomy +portraits of dead and gone Chillingtons lined the green walls, and this +might be the reason why there always seemed to me a slight graveyard +flavour—scarcely perceptible, but none the less surely there—about +this room which caused me to shudder involuntarily whenever I crossed +its threshold.</p> + +<p>Lady Chillington's black eyes—large, cold and steady as Juno's own—had +been bent upon me all this time, measuring me from head to foot with +what I felt to be a slightly contemptuous scrutiny.</p> + +<p>"What is your name, and how old are you?" she asked, with startling +abruptness, after a minute or two of silence.</p> + +<p>"Janet Hope, and twelve years," I answered, laconically. A feeling of +defiance, of dislike to this bedizened old woman began to gnaw my +child's heart. Young as I was, I had learned, with what bitterness I +alone could have told, the art of wrapping myself round with a husk of +cold reserve, which no one uninitiated in the ways of children could +penetrate, unless I were inclined to let them. Sulki<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span>ness was the +generic name for this quality at school, but I dignified it with a +different term.</p> + +<p>"How many years were you at Park Hill Seminary? and where did you live +before you went there?" asked Lady Chillington.</p> + +<p>"I have lived at Park Hill ever since I can remember anything. I don't +know where I lived before that time."</p> + +<p>"Are your parents alive or dead? If the latter, what do you remember of +them?"</p> + +<p>A lump came into my throat, and tears into my eyes. For a moment or two +I could not answer.</p> + +<p>"I don't know anything about my parents," I said. "I never remember +seeing them. I don't know whether they are alive or dead."</p> + +<p>"Do you know why you were consigned by the Park Hill people to this +particular house—to Deepley Walls—to me, in fact?"</p> + +<p>Her voice was raised almost to a shriek as she said these last words, +and she pointed to herself with one claw-like finger.</p> + +<p>"No, ma'am, I don't know why I was sent here. I was told to come, and I +came."</p> + +<p>"But you have no claim on me—none whatever," she continued, fiercely. +"Bear that in mind: remember it always. Whatever I may choose to do for +you will be done of my own free will, and not through compulsion of any +kind. No claim whatever; remember that. None whatever."</p> + +<p>She was silent for some time after this, and sat with her cold, steady +eyes fixed intently on the fire. For my part, I sat as still as a mouse, +afraid to stir, longing for my dismissal, and dreading to be questioned +further.</p> + +<p>Lady Chillington roused herself at length with a deep sigh, and a few +words muttered under her breath.</p> + +<p>"Here is a bunch of grapes for you, child," she said. "When you have +eaten them it will be time for you to retire."</p> + +<p>I advanced timidly and took the grapes, with a curtsey and a "Thank you, +ma'am," and then went back to my seat.</p> + +<p>As I sat eating my grapes my eyes went up to an oval mirror over the +fire-place, in which were reflected the figures of Lady Chillington and +myself. My momentary glance into its depths showed me how keenly, but +furtively, her ladyship was watching me. But what interest could a great +lady have in watching poor insignificant me? I ventured another glance +into the mirror. Yes, she looked as if she were devouring me with her +eyes. But hothouse grapes are nicer than mysteries, and how is it +possible to give one's serious attention to two things at a time?</p> + +<p>When I had finished the grapes, I put my plate back on the table.</p> + +<p>"Ring that bell," said Lady Chillington. I rang it accordingly, and +presently Dance made her appearance.</p> + +<p>"Miss Hope is ready to retire," said her ladyship.</p> + +<p>I arose, and going a step or two nearer to her, I made her my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> most +elaborate curtsey, and said, "I wish your ladyship a very good-night."</p> + +<p>The ghost of a smile flickered across her face. "I am pleased to find, +child, that you are not entirely destitute of manners," she said, and +with a stately wave of the arm I was dismissed.</p> + +<p>It was like an escape from slavery to hear the door of the Green Saloon +close behind me, and to get into the great corridors and passages +outside. I could have capered for very glee; only Mrs. Dance was a staid +sort of person, and might not have liked it.</p> + +<p>"Her ladyship is pleased with you, I am sure," she remarked, as we went +along.</p> + +<p>"That is more than I am with her," I answered, pertly. Mrs. Dance looked +shocked.</p> + +<p>"You must not talk in that way, dear, on any account," she said. "You +must try to like Lady Chillington; it is to your interest to do so. But +even should you never learn to like her, you must not let anyone know +it."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure that I shall like the lady that you call Sister Agnes," I +said. "When shall I see her? To-morrow?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Dance looked at me sharply for a moment. "You think you shall like +Sister Agnes, eh? When you come to know her, you will more than like +her; you will love her. But perhaps Lady Chillington will not allow you +to see her."</p> + +<p>"But why not?" I said abruptly, and I could feel my eyes flash with +anger.</p> + +<p>"The why not I am not at liberty to explain," said Mrs. Dance, drily. +"And let me tell you, Miss Janet Hope, there are many things under this +roof of which no explanation will be given you, and if you are a wise, +good girl, you will not ask too many questions. I tell you this simply +for your own good. Lady Chillington cannot abear people that are always +prying and asking 'What does this mean?' and 'What does the other mean?' +A still tongue is the sign of a wise head."</p> + +<p>Ten minutes later I had said my prayers and was in bed. "Don't go +without kissing me," I said to Dance as she took up the candle.</p> + +<p>The old lady came back and kissed me tenderly. "Heaven bless you and +keep you, my dear!" she said, with solemn dignity. "There are those in +the world who love you very dearly, and some day perhaps you will know +all. I dare not say more. Good-night, and God bless you."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Dance's words reached a chord in my heart that vibrated to the +slightest touch. I cried myself silently to sleep.</p> + +<p>How long I had been asleep I had no means of knowing, but I was awakened +some time in the night by a rain of kisses, soft, warm, and light, on +lips, cheeks and forehead. The room was pitch dark, and for a second or +two I thought I was still at Park Hill, and that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> Miss Chinfeather had +come back from heaven to tell me how much she loved me. But this thought +passed away like the slide of a magic lantern, and I knew that I was at +Deepley Walls. The moment I knew this I put out my arms with the +intention of clasping my unknown visitor round the neck. But I was not +quick enough. The kisses ceased, my hands met each other in the empty +air, and I heard a faint noise of garments trailing across the floor. I +started up in bed, and called out, in a frightened voice, "Who's there?"</p> + +<p>"Hush! not a word!" whispered a voice out of the darkness. Then I heard +the door of my room softly closed, and I felt that I was alone.</p> + +<p>I was left as wide awake as ever I had been in my life. My child's heart +was filled with an unspeakable yearning, and yet the darkness and the +mystery frightened me. It could not be Miss Chinfeather who had visited +me, I argued with myself. The lips that had touched mine were not those +of a corpse, but were instinct with life and love. Who, then, could my +mysterious visitor be? Not Lady Chillington, surely! I half started up +in bed at the thought. Just as I did so, without warning of any kind, a +solemn muffled tramp became audible in the room immediately over mine. A +tramp, slow, heavy, measured, from one end of the room to the other, and +then back again. I slipped back into the bedclothes and buried myself up +to the ears. I could hear the beating of my heart, oppressed now with a +new terror before which the lesser one faded utterly. The very monotony +of that dull measured walk was enough to unstring the nerves of a child, +coming as it did in the middle of the night. I tried to escape from it +by going still deeper under the clothes, but I could hear it even then. +Since I could not escape it altogether, I had better listen to it with +all my ears, for it was quite possible that it might come down stairs, +and so into my room. Had such a thing happened, I think I should have +died from sheer terror. Happily for me nothing of the kind took place; +and, still listening, I fell asleep at last from utter weariness, and +knew nothing more till I was awoke by a stray sunbeam smiting me across +the eyes.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<h3>A VOYAGE OF DISCOVERY.</h3> + + +<p>A golden sunbeam was shining through a crevice in the blinds; the birds +were twittering in the ivy outside; oxen were lowing to each other +across the park. Morning, with all her music, was abroad.</p> + +<p>I started up in bed and rubbed my eyes. Within the house everything was +as mute as the grave. That horrible tramping overhead had ceased—had +ceased, doubtless, with the return of daylight, which would otherwise +have shifted it from the region of the weird<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> to that of the +commonplace. I smiled to myself as I thought of my terrors of the past +night, and felt brave enough just then to have faced a thousand ghosts. +In another minute I was out of bed, and had drawn up my blind, and flung +open my window, and was drinking in the sweet peaceful scene that +stretched away before me in long level lines to the edge of a far-off +horizon.</p> + +<p>My window was high up and looked out at the front of the hall. +Immediately below me was a semicircular lawn, shut in from the park by +an invisible fence, close shaven, and clumped with baskets of flowers +glowing just now with all the brilliance of late autumn. The main +entrance—a flight of shallow steps, and an Ionic portico, as I +afterwards found—was at one end of the building, and was reached by a +long straight carriage drive, the route of which could be traced across +the park by the thicker growth of trees with which it was fringed. This +park stretched to right and left for a mile either way. In front, it was +bounded, a short half-mile away, by the high road, beyond which were +level wide-stretching meadows, through which the river Adair washed slow +and clear.</p> + +<p>But chief of all this morning I wanted to be down among the flowers. I +made haste to wash and dress, taking an occasional peep through the +window as I did so, and trying to entice the birds from their +hiding-places in the ivy. Then I opened my bed-room door, and then, in +view of the great landing outside, I paused. Several doors, all except +mine now closed, gave admittance from this landing to different rooms. +Both landing and stairs were made of oak, black and polished with age. +One broad flight of stairs, with heavy carved banisters, pointed the way +below; a second and narrower flight led to the regions above. As a +matter of course I chose the former, but not till after a minute's +hesitation as to whether I should venture to leave my room at all before +I should be called. But my desire to see the baskets of flowers +prevailed over everything else. I closed my door gently and hurried +down.</p> + +<p>I found myself in the entrance-hall of Deepley Walls, into which I had +been ushered on my arrival. There were the two curtained doorways +through which Lady Chillington had come and gone. For the rest, it was a +gloomy place enough, with its flagged floor, and its diamond-paned +windows high up in the semicircular roof. A few rusty full-lengths +graced the walls; the stairs were guarded by two effigies in armour; a +marble bust of one of the Cæsars stood on a high pedestal in the middle +of the floor; and that was all.</p> + +<p>I was glad to get away from this dismal spot and to find myself in the +passage which led to the housekeeper's room. I opened the door and +looked in, but the room was vacant. Farther along the same passage I +found the kitchen and other domestic offices. The kitchen clock was just +on the point of six as I went in. One servant alone had come down. From +her I inquired my way into the garden, and next minute I was on the +lawn. The close-cropped grass was wet<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> with the heavy dew; but my boots +were thick and I heeded it not, for the flowers were there within my +very grasp.</p> + +<p>Oh, those flowers! can I ever forget them? I have seen none so beautiful +since. There can be none so beautiful out of Paradise.</p> + +<p>One spray of scarlet geranium was all that I ventured to pluck. But the +odours and the colours were there for all comers, and were as much mine +for the time being as if the flowers themselves had belonged to me. +Suddenly I turned and glanced up at the many-windowed house with a sort +of guilty consciousness that I might possibly be doing wrong. But the +house was still asleep—closed shutters or down-drawn blind at every +window. I saw before me a substantial-looking red-brick mansion, with a +high slanting roof, of not undignified appearance now that it was +mellowed by age, but with no pretensions to architectural beauty. The +sole attempt at outside ornamentation consisted of a few flutings of +white stone, reaching from the ground to the second floor, and +terminating in oval shields of the same material, on which had +originally been carved the initials of the builder and the date of +erection; but the summer's sun and the winter's rain of many a long year +had rubbed both letters and figures carefully out. Long afterwards I +knew that Deepley Walls had been built in the reign of the Third William +by a certain Squire Chillington of that date, "out of my own head," as +he himself put it in a quaint document still preserved among the family +archives; and rather a muddled head it must have been in matters +architectural.</p> + +<p>After this, I ventured round by the main entrance, with its gravelled +carriage sweep, to the other side of the house, where I found a long +flagged terrace bordered with large evergreens in tubs placed at +frequent intervals. On to this terrace several French windows +opened—the windows, as I found later in the day, of Lady Chillington's +private rooms. To the left of this terrace stood a plantation of young +trees, through which a winding path that opened by a wicket into the +private grounds invited me to penetrate. Through the green gloom I +advanced bravely, my heart beating with all the pleasure of one who was +exploring some unknown land. I saw no living thing by the way, save two +grey rabbits that scuttered across my path and vanished in the +undergrowth on the other side. Pretty frisky creatures! how I should +like to have caught them, and fed them, and made pets of them as long as +they lived!</p> + +<p>Two or three hundred yards farther on the path ended with another +wicket, now locked, which opened into the high road. About a mile away I +could discern the roofs and chimneys of a little town. When I got back +to the hall I found dear old Dance getting rather anxious at my long +absence, but she brightened into smiles when I kissed her and told her +where I had been.</p> + +<p>"You must have slept well, or you would hardly look so rosy this +morning," she said as we sat down to breakfast.</p><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I should have slept very well if I had not been troubled by the +ghosts."</p> + +<p>"Ghosts! my dear Miss Janet? You do not mean to say—" and the old +lady's cheek paled suddenly, and her cup rattled in her saucer as she +held it.</p> + +<p>"I mean to say that Deepley Walls is haunted by two ghosts, one of which +came and kissed me last night when I was asleep; while the other one was +walking nearly all night in the room over mine."</p> + +<p>Dance's face brightened, but still wore a puzzled expression. "You must +have dreamed that someone kissed you, dear," she said. "If you were +asleep you could not know anything about it."</p> + +<p>"But I was awakened by it, and I am positive that it was no dream." Then +I told her what few particulars there were to tell.</p> + +<p>"For the future we must lock your bed-room door," she said.</p> + +<p>"Then I should be more frightened than ever. Besides, a real ghost would +not be kept out by locking the door."</p> + +<p>"Well, dear, tell me if you are disturbed in the same way again. But as +for the tramping you heard in the room overhead, that is easily +explained. It was no ghost that you heard walking, but Lady +Chillington." Then, seeing my look of astonishment, she went on to +explain. "You see, my dear Miss Janet, her ladyship is a very peculiar +person, and does many things that to commonplace people like you and me +may seem rather strange. One of these little peculiarities is her +fondness for walking about the room over yours at night. Now, if she +likes to do this, I know of no reason why she should not do it. It is a +little whim that does no harm to anybody; and as the house and +everything in it are her own, she may surely please herself in such a +trifle."</p> + +<p>"But what is there in the room that she should prefer it to any other in +the house for walking in by night?"</p> + +<p>"What—is—there—in the room?" said the old lady, staring at me across +the table with a strange, frightened look in her eyes. "What a curious +question! The room is a common room, of course, with nothing in it out +of the ordinary way; only, as I said before, it happens to be Lady +Chillington's whim to walk there. So, if you hear the noise again, you +will know how to account for it, and will have too much good sense to +feel in the least afraid."</p> + +<p>I had a half consciousness that Dance was prevaricating with me in this +matter, or hiding something from me; but I was obliged to accept her +version as the correct one, especially as I saw that any further +questioning would be of no avail.</p> + +<p>I did not see Lady Chillington that day. She was reported to be unwell, +and kept her own rooms.</p> + +<p>About noon a message came from Sister Agnes that she would like to see +me in her room. When I entered she was standing by a square oak table, +resting one hand on it while the other was pressed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> to her heart. Her +face was very pale, but her dark eyes beamed on me with a veiled +tenderness that I could not misinterpret.</p> + +<p>"Good-morrow, Miss Hope," she said, offering her white slender hand for +my acceptance. "I fear that you will find Deepley Walls even duller than +Park Hill Seminary."</p> + +<p>Her tone was cold and constrained. I looked up earnestly into her face. +Her lips began to quiver painfully. "Child! child! you must not look at +me in that way," she cried.</p> + +<p>Instinct whispered something in my ear. "You are the lady who came and +kissed me when I was asleep!" I exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Her brow contracted for a moment as if she were in pain. A hectic spot +came out suddenly on either cheek, and vanished almost as swiftly. "Yes, +it was I who came to your room last night," she said. "You are not vexed +with me for doing so?"</p> + +<p>"On the contrary, I love you for it."</p> + +<p>Her smile, the sweetest I ever saw, beamed out at this. Gently she +stroked my hair. "You looked so forlorn and weary last night," she said, +"that after I got to bed I could not help thinking about you. I was +afraid you would not be able to sleep in a strange place, so I could not +rest till I had visited you: but I never intended to awake you."</p> + +<p>"I do not mind how often I am awakened in the same way," I said. "No one +has ever seemed to love me but you, and I cannot help loving you back."</p> + +<p>"My poor child!" was all she said. We had sat down by this time close to +the window, and Sister Agnes was holding one of my hands in hers and +caressing it gently as she gazed dreamily across the park. My eyes, +child-like, wandered from her to the room and then back again. The +picture still lives in my memory as fresh as though it had been limned +but yesterday.</p> + +<p>A square whitewashed room, fitted up with furniture of unpolished oak. +On the walls a few proof engravings of subjects taken from Sacred +History. A small bookcase in one corner, and a <i>prie-dieu</i> in another. +The floor uncarpeted, but polished after the French fashion. A +writing-table; a large workbox; a heap of clothing for the poor; and +lastly, a stand for flowers.</p> + +<p>The features of Sister Agnes were as delicate and clearly cut as those +of some antique statue, but their habitual expression was one of intense +melancholy. Her voice was low and gracious: the voice of a refined and +educated gentlewoman. Her hair was black, with here and there a faint +silver streak; but the peculiar head-dress of white linen which she wore +left very little of it visible. Disfiguring as this head-dress might +have been to many people, in her case it served merely to enhance the +marble whiteness and transparent purity of her complexion. Her eyebrows +were black and well-defined; but as for the eyes themselves, I can only +repeat what I said before—that their dark depths were full of +tenderness and a sort of veiled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> enthusiasm difficult to describe in +words. Her dress was black, soft and coarse, relieved by deep cuffs of +white linen. Her solitary ornament, if ornament it could be called, was +a rosary of black beads. Not without reason have I been thus particular +in describing Sister Agnes and her surroundings, as they who read will +discover for themselves by-and-by.</p> + +<p>Sister Agnes woke up from her reverie with a sigh, and began talking to +me about my schooldays and my mode of life at Park Hill Seminary. It was +a pleasure to me to talk, because I felt it was a pleasure to her to +listen to me. And she let me talk on and on for I can't tell how long, +only putting in a question now and again, till she knew almost as much +about Miss Chinfeather and Park Hill as I knew myself. But she never +seemed to grow weary. We were sitting close together, and after a time I +felt her arm steal gently round my waist, pressing me closer still; and +so, with my head nestling against her shoulder, I talked on, heedless of +the time. O happy afternoon!</p> + +<p>It was broken by a summons for Sister Agnes from Lady Chillington. +"To-morrow, if the weather hold fine, we will go to Charke Forest and +gather blackberries," said Sister Agnes as she gave me a parting kiss.</p> + +<p>That night I went early to bed, and never woke till daybreak.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<h3>SCARSDALE WEIR.</h3> + + +<p>I was up betimes next morning, long before Sister Agnes could possibly +be ready to take me to the forest. So I took my sewing into the garden, +and found a pleasant sunny nook, where I sat and worked till breakfast +time. The meal was scarcely over when Sister Agnes sent for me. It made +my heart leap with pleasure to see how her beautiful, melancholy face +lighted up at my approach. Why should she feel such an interest in one +whom she had never seen till a few hours ago? The question was one I +could not answer; I could only recognise the fact and be thankful.</p> + +<p>The morning was delicious: sunny, without being oppressive; while in the +shade there was a faint touch of austerity like the first breath of +coming winter. A walk of two miles brought us to the skirts of the +forest, and in five minutes after quitting the high road we might have +been a hundred miles away from any habitation, so utterly lost and +buried from the outer world did we seem to be. Already the forest paths +were half hidden by fallen leaves, which rustled pleasantly under our +feet. By-and-by we came to a pretty opening in the wood, where some +charitable soul had erected a rude rustic seat that was more than half +covered with the initials of idle wayfarers. Here Sister Agnes sat down +to rest. She had brought a volume of poems with her, and while she read +I wandered about,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> never going very far away, feasting on the purple +blackberries, finding here and there a late-ripened cluster of nuts, +trying to find out a nest or two among the thinned foliage, and enjoying +myself in a quiet way much to my heart's content.</p> + +<p>I don't think Sister Agnes read much that morning. Her gaze was oftener +away from her book than on it. After a time she came and joined me in +gathering nuts and blackberries. She seemed brighter and happier than I +had hitherto seen her, entering into all my little projects with as much +eagerness as though she were herself a child. How soon I had learned to +love her! Why had I lived all those dreary years at Park Hill without +knowing her? But I could never again feel quite so lonely—never quite +such an outcast from that common household love which all the girls I +had known seemed to accept as a matter of course. Even if I should +unhappily be separated from Sister Agnes, I could not cease to love her; +and although I had seen her for the first time barely forty-eight hours +ago, my child's instinct told me that she possessed that steadfastness, +sweet and strong, which allows no name that has once been written on its +heart to be erased therefrom for ever.</p> + +<p>My thoughts were running in some such groove, but they were all as +tangled and confused as the luxuriant undergrowth around me. It must +have been out of this confusion that the impulse arose which caused me +to address a question to Sister Agnes that startled her as much as if a +shell had exploded at her feet.</p> + +<p>"Dear Sister Agnes," I said, "you seem to know my history, and all about +me. Did you know my papa and mamma?"</p> + +<p>She dropped the leaf that held her fruit, and turned on me a haggard, +frightened face that made my own grow pale.</p> + +<p>"What makes you think that I know your history?" she stammered out.</p> + +<p>"You who are so intimate with Lady Chillington must know why I was +brought to Deepley Walls: you must know something about me. If you know +anything about my father and mother, oh! do please tell me; please do!"</p> + +<p>"I am tired, Janet. Let us sit down," she said, wearily. So, hand in +hand, we went back to the rustic seat and sat down.</p> + +<p>She sat for a minute or two without speaking, gazing straight before her +into some far-away forest vista, but seeing only with that inner eye +which searches through the dusty chambers of heart and brain whenever +some record of the past has to be brought forth to answer the questions +of to-day.</p> + +<p>"I do know your history, dear child," she said at length, "and both your +parents were friends of mine."</p> + +<p>"Were! Then neither of them is alive?"</p> + +<p>"Alas! no. They have been dead many years. Your father was drowned in +one of the Italian lakes. Your mother died a year afterwards."</p><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p> + +<p>All the sweet vague hopes that I had cherished in secret, ever since I +could remember anything, of some day finding at least one of my parents +alive, died out utterly as Sister Agnes said these words. My heart +seemed to faint within me. I flung myself into her arms, and burst into +tears.</p> + +<p>Very tenderly and lovingly, with sweet caresses and words of comfort, +did Sister Agnes strive to win me back to cheerfulness. Her efforts were +not unsuccessful, and after a time I grew calmer and recovered my +self-possession; and as soon as so much was accomplished we set out on +our return to Deepley Walls.</p> + +<p>As we rose to go, I said, "Since you have told me so much, Sister Agnes, +will you not also tell me why I have been brought to Deepley Walls, and +why Lady Chillington has anything to do with me?"</p> + +<p>"That is a question, dear Janet, which I cannot answer," she said. "I am +bound to Lady Chillington by a solemn promise not to reveal to you the +nature of the secret bond which has brought you under her roof. That she +has your welfare at heart you may well believe, and that it is to your +interest to please her in every possible way is equally certain. More +than this I dare not say, except there are certain pages of your +history, some of them of a very painful character, which it would not be +advisable that you should read till you shall be many years older than +you are now. Meanwhile rest assured that in Lady Chillington, however +eccentric she may seem to be, you have a firm and powerful friend; while +in me, who have neither influence nor power, you have one who simply +loves you, and prays night and day for your welfare."</p> + +<p>"And you will never cease to love me, will you?" I said, just as we +stepped out of the forest into the high road.</p> + +<p>She took both my hands in hers and looked me straight in the face. +"Never, while I live, Janet Hope, can I cease to love you," she said. +Then we kissed and went on our way towards Deepley Walls.</p> + +<p>"You are to dine with her ladyship to-day, Miss Janet," said Dance the +same afternoon. "We must look out your best bib and tucker."</p> + +<p>Dance seemed to think that a mighty honour was about to be conferred +upon me, but for my own part I would have given much to forego the +distinction. However, there was no help for it, so I submitted quietly +to having my hair dressed and to being inducted into my best frock. I +was dreadfully abashed when the footman threw open the dining-room door +and announced in a loud voice, "Miss Janet Hope."</p> + +<p>Dinner had just been served, and her ladyship was waiting. I advanced up +the room and made my curtsey. Lady Chillington looked at me grimly, +without relaxing a muscle, and then extended a lean forefinger, which I +pressed respectfully. The butler indicated a chair, and I sat down. Next +moment Sister Agnes glided in through<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> a side door, and took her place +at the table, but considerably apart from Lady Chillington and me. I +felt infinitely relieved by her presence.</p> + +<p>Her ladyship looked as elaborately youthful, with her pink cheeks, her +black wig, and her large white teeth, as on the evening of my arrival at +Deepley Walls. But her hands shook a little, making the diamonds on her +fingers scintillate in the candlelight as she carried her food to her +mouth, and this was a sign of age which not all the art in the world +could obviate. The table was laid out with a quantity of old-fashioned +plate; indeed, the plate was out of all proportion to the dinner, which +consisted of nothing more elaborate than some mutton broth, a roast +pullet and a custard. But there was a good deal of show, and we were +waited on assiduously by a respectable but fatuous-looking butler. There +was no wine brought out, but some old ale was poured into her ladyship's +glass from a silver flagon. Sister Agnes had a small cover laid apart +from ours. Her dinner consisted of herbs, fruit, bread and water. It +pained me to see that the look of intense melancholy which had lightened +so wonderfully during our forest walk had again overshadowed her face +like a veil. She gave me one long, earnest look as she took her seat at +the table, but after that she seemed scarcely to be aware of my +presence.</p> + +<p>We had sat in grim silence for full five minutes, when Lady Chillington +spoke.</p> + +<p>"Can you speak French, child?" she said, turning abruptly to me.</p> + +<p>"I can read it a little, but I cannot speak it," I replied.</p> + +<p>"Nor understand what is said when it is spoken in your presence?"</p> + +<p>"No, ma'am."</p> + +<p>"So much the better," she answered with a grating laugh. "Children have +long ears, and there is no freedom of conversation when they are +present." With that she addressed some remarks in French to Sister +Agnes, who replied to her in the same language. I knew nothing about my +ears being long, but her ladyship's words had made them tingle as if +they had been boxed. For one thing I was thankful—that no further +remarks were addressed to me during dinner. The conversation in French +became animated, and I had leisure to think of other things.</p> + +<p>Dinner was quickly over, and at a signal from her ladyship, the folding +doors were thrown open, and we defiled into the Green Saloon, I bringing +up the rear meekly. On the table were fruit and flowers, and one small +bottle of some light wine. The butler filled her ladyship's glass, and +then withdrew.</p> + +<p>"You can take a pear, little girl," said Lady Chillington. Accordingly I +took a pear, but when I had got it I was too timid to eat it, and could +do nothing but hold it between my hot palms. Had I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> been at Park Hill +Seminary, I should soon have made my teeth meet in the fruit; but I was +not certain as to the proper mode of eating pears in society.</p> + +<p>Lady Chillington placed her glass in her eye and examined me critically.</p> + +<p>"Haie! haie!" she said. "That good Chinfeather has not quite eradicated +our gaucherie, it seems. We are deficient in ease and aplomb. What is +the name of that Frenchwoman, Agnes, who 'finished' Lady Kinbuck's +girls?"</p> + +<p>"You mean Madame Delclos."</p> + +<p>"The same. Look out her address to-morrow, and remind me that you write +to her. If mademoiselle here remain in England, she will grow up weedy, +and will never learn to carry her shoulders properly. Besides, the child +has scarcely two words to say for herself. A little Parisian training +may prove beneficial. At her age a French girl of family would be a +little duchess in bearing and manners, even though she had never been +outside the walls of her pension. How is such an anomaly to be accounted +for? It is possible that the atmosphere may have something to do with +it."</p> + +<p>Here was fresh food for wonder, and for such serious thought as my age +admitted of. I was to be sent to a school in France! I could not make up +my mind whether to be sorry or glad. In truth, I was neither wholly the +one nor the other; the tangled web of my feelings was something +altogether beyond my skill to unravel.</p> + +<p>Lady Chillington sipped her wine absently awhile; Sister Agnes was busy +with some fine needlework; and I was striving to elaborate a giant and +his attendant dwarf out of the glowing embers and cavernous recesses of +the wood fire, while there was yet an underlying vein of thought at work +in my mind which busied itself desultorily with trying to piece together +all that I had ever heard or read of life in a French school.</p> + +<p>"You can run away now, little girl. You are de trop," said her ladyship, +turning on me in her abrupt fashion. "And you, Agnes, may as well read +to me a couple of chapters out of the 'Girondins.' What a wonderful man +was that Robespierre! What a giant! Had he but lived, how different the +history of Europe would have been from what we know it to-day."</p> + +<p>I could almost have kissed her ladyship of my own accord, so pleased was +I to get away. I made my curtsey to her, and also to Sister Agnes, whose +only reply was a sweet, sad smile, and managed to preserve my dignity +till I was out of the room. But when the door was safely closed behind +me, I ran, I flew along the passages till I reached the housekeeper's +room. Dance was not there, neither had candles yet been lighted. The +bright moonlight pouring in through the window gave me a new idea.</p> + +<p>I had not yet been down to look at the river! What time could be better +than the present one for such a purpose? I had heard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> some of the elder +girls at Park Hill talk of the delights of boating by moonlight. Boating +in the present case was out of the question, but there was the river +itself to be seen. Taking my hat and scarf, I let myself out by a side +door, and then sped away across the park like a hunted fawn, not +forgetting to take an occasional bite at her ladyship's pear. To-night, +for a wonder, my mind seemed purged of all those strange fears and +stranger fancies engendered in it, some people would say, by +superstition, while others would hold that they were merely the effects +of a delicate nervous organisation and over-excitable brain re-acting +one upon the other. Be that as it may, for this night they had left me, +and I skipped on my way as fearlessly as though I were walking at +mid-day, and with a glorious sense of freedom working within me, such, +only in a more intense degree, as I had often felt on our rare holidays +at school.</p> + +<p>There was a right of public footpath across one corner of the park. +Tracking this narrow white ribbon through the greensward, I came at +length to a stile which admitted me into the high road. Exactly opposite +was a second stile, opening on a second footpath, which I felt sure +could lead to nowhere but the river. Nor was I mistaken. In another five +minutes I was on the banks of the Adair.</p> + +<p>To my child's eye, the scene was one of exquisite beauty. To-day, I +should probably call it flat and wanting in variety. The equable +full-flowing river was lighted up by a full and unclouded moon. The +undergrowth that fringed its banks was silver-foliaged; silver-white +rose the mists in the meadows. Silence everywhere, save for the low +liquid murmur of the river itself, which seemed burdened with some love +secret, centuries old, which it was vainly striving to tell in +articulate words.</p> + +<p>The burden of the beauty lay upon me and saddened me. I wandered slowly +along the bank, watching the play of moonlight on the river. Suddenly I +saw a tiny boat that was moored to an overhanging willow, and floated +out the length of its chain towards the middle of the stream. I looked +around. Not a creature of any kind was visible. Then I thought to +myself: "How pleasant it would be to sit out there in the boat for a +little while. And surely no one could be angry with me for taking such a +liberty—not even the owner of the boat, if he were to find me there."</p> + +<p>No sooner said than done. I went down to the edge of the river and drew +the boat inshore by the chain that held it. Then I stepped gingerly in, +half-frightened at my own temerity, and sat down. The boat glided slowly +out again to the length of its chain and then became motionless. But it +was motionless only for a moment or two. A splash in the water drew my +attention to the chain. It had been insecurely fastened to a branch of +the willow; my weight in the boat had caused it to become detached and +fall into the water, and with horrified eyes I saw that I had now no +means of getting back to the shore. Next moment the strength of the +current carried<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> the boat out into mid-stream, and I began to float +slowly down the river.</p> + +<p>I sat like one paralysed, unable either to stir or speak. The willows +seemed to bow their heads in mocking farewell as I glided past them. I +heard the faint baying of a dog on some distant farm, and it sounded +like a death-note in my frightened ears. Suddenly the spell that had +held me was loosened, and I started to my feet. The boat heeled over, +and but for a sudden instinctive movement backward I should have gone +headlong into the river, and have ended my troubles there and then. The +boat righted itself, veered half-round and then went steadily on its way +down the stream. I sank on my knees and buried my face in my hands, and +began to cry. When I had cried a little while it came into my mind that +I would say my prayers. So I said them, with clasped hands and wet eyes; +and the words seemed to come from me and affect me in a way that I had +never experienced before. As I write these lines I have a vivid +recollection of noticing how blurred and large the moon looked through +my tears.</p> + +<p>My heart was now quieted a little; I was no longer so utterly +overmastered by my fears. I was recalled to a more vivid sense of earth +and its realities by the low, melancholy striking of some village clock. +I gazed eagerly along both banks of the river; but although the moon +shone so brightly, neither house nor church nor any sign of human +habitation was visible. When the clock had told its last syllable, the +silence seemed even more profound than before. I might have been +floating on a river that wound through a country never trodden by the +foot of man, so entirely alone, so utterly removed from all human aid, +did I feel myself to be.</p> + +<p>I drew the skirt of my frock over my shoulders, for the night air was +beginning to chill me, and contrived to regain the seat I had taken on +first entering the boat. Whither would the river carry me, was the +question I now put to myself. To the sea, doubtless. Had I not been +taught at school that sooner or later all rivers emptied themselves into +the ocean? The immensity of the thought appalled me. It seemed to chill +the beating of my heart; I grew cold from head to foot. Still the boat +held its course steadily, swept onward by the resistless current; still +the willows nodded their fantastic farewells. Along the level meadows +far and wide the white mist lay like a vast winding-sheet; now and then +through the stillness I heard, or seemed to hear, a moan—a mournful +wail, as of some spirit just released from earthly bonds, and forced to +leave its dear ones behind. The moonlight looked cruel, and the water +very, very cold. Someone had told me that death by drowning was swift +and painless. Those stars up there were millions of miles away; how long +would it take my soul, I wondered, to travel that distance—to reach +those glowing orbs—to leave them behind? How glorious such a journey, +beyond all power of thought, to track one's way among the worlds<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> that +flash through space! In the world I should leave there would be one +person only who would mourn for me—Sister Agnes, who would—But what +noise was that?</p> + +<p>A noise, low and faint at first, just taking the edge of silence with a +musical murmur that seemed to die out for an instant now and again, then +coming again stronger than before, and so growing by fine degrees louder +and more confirmed, and resolving itself at last into a sound which +could not be mistaken for that of anything but falling water. The sound +was clearly in front of me; I was being swept resistlessly towards it. A +curve of the river and a swelling of the banks hid everything from me. +The sound was momently growing louder, and had distinctly resolved +itself into the roar and rush of some great body of water. I shuddered +and grasped the sides of the boat with both hands.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the curve was rounded, and there, almost in front of me, was a +mass of buildings, and there, too, spanning the river, was what looked +to me like a trellis-work bridge, and on the bridge was a human figure. +The roar and noise of the cataract were deafening, but louder than all +was my piercing cry for help. He who stood on the bridge heard it. I saw +him fling up his hands as if in sudden horror, and that was the last +thing I did see. I sank down with closed eyes in the bottom of the boat, +and my heart went up in a silent cry to Heaven. Next moment I was swept +into Scarsdale Weir. The boat seemed to glide from under me; my head +struck something hard; the water overwhelmed me, seized on me, dashed me +here and there in its merciless arms; a noise as of a thousand cataracts +filled my ears for a moment; and then I recollect nothing more.</p> + +<p>(<i>To be continued.</i>)</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/03de.jpg" + alt="Decorative" + title="Decorative" /> +</div> + + +<h2>SONNET.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wouldst thou be happy, friend, forget, forget.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A curse—no blessing—Memory, thou art;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The very torment of a human heart.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah! yes, I thought, I still am young; and let<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My heart but beat, I can be happy yet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon a friendly face clear shone the light;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Without, low moaned the mountain's winds, and night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Closed our warm home—sad words of fond regret.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A voice which in my ear no more shall ring;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A look estranged in hate like lightning came,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My very soul within me died as flame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By strong wind spent. It was not grief, for dead<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was grief; nor love, for love in wrath had fled;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It was of both the last undying sting!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="name"><span class="smcap">Julia Kavanagh</span>.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE BRETONS AT HOME.</h2> + +<h4><span class="smcap">By Charles W. Wood, F.R.G.S., Author of "Through Holland," "Letters +from Majorca," etc. etc.</span></h4> + + +<p>The long grey walls, the fortifications, the church towers and steeples, +the clustering roofs of St. Malo came into view.</p> + +<p>It is a charming sight after the long and often unpleasant night journey +which separates St. Malo from Southampton. The boats leave much to be +desired, and the sea very often, like Shakespeare's heroine, needs +taming, but, unlike that heroine, will not be tamed, charm we never so +wisely. As a rule, however, one is not in a mood to charm.</p> + +<div class="figleft"> + <img src="images/02.jpg" + alt="A Breton Maiden." + title="A Breton Maiden." /><br /> + <span class="caption">A Breton Maiden.</span> +</div> + +<p>The Company are not accommodating. There are private cabins on board +holding four, badly placed, uncomfortable, possessing the single +advantage of privacy; but these managers would have them empty rather +than allow two passengers to occupy one of them under the full fare of +four. This is unamiable and exacting. In crowded times it may be all +very right, but on ordinary occasions they would do well to follow the +example of the more generous Norwegians, who place their state cabins +holding four at the disposal of anyone paying the fare of three +passengers.</p> + +<p>After the long night-passage it is delightful to steam into the harbour +of St. Malo. If the sea has been rough and unkindly, you at once pass +from Purgatory to Paradise, with a relief those will understand who have +experienced it. The scene is very charming. The coast, broken and +undulating, is rich and fertile; very often hazy and dreamy; the +landscape is veiled by a purple mist which reminds one very much of the +Irish lakes and mountains.</p><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p> + +<p>Across the water lies Dinard, with its lovely views, its hilly +thoroughfares, its English colony and its French patois. But the boat, +turning the point, steams up the harbour and Dinard falls away. St. Malo +lies ahead on the left, enclosed in its ancient grey walls, which +encircle it like a belt; and on the right, farther away, rise the towers +and steeples of St. Servan, also of ancient celebrity.</p> + +<p>On the particular morning of which I write, as we steamed up the harbour +towards our moorings, the quays looked gay and lively, the town very +picturesque. It is so in truth, though some of its picturesqueness is +the result of antiquity, dirt and dilapidation. But the fresh green +trees lining the quay looked bright and youthful; a contrast with the +ancient grey walls that formed their background. Vessels were loading +and unloading, people hurried to and fro; many had evidently come down +to see the boat in, and not a few were unmistakably English.</p> + +<p>Here and there in the grey walls were the grand imposing gateways of the +town. Above the walls rose the quaint houses, roof above roof, gable +beside gable, tier beyond tier.</p> + +<p>At the end of the quay the old Castle brought the scene to a fine +conclusion. It was built by Anne of Brittany, and dates from the +sixteenth century. One of its towers bears the singular motto or +inscription: <i>Qui qu'en grogne, ainsi sera, c'est mon plaisir</i>: which +seems to suggest that the illustrious lady owned a determined will and +purpose. It is now turned into barracks; a lordly residence for the +simple paysans who swelled the ranks of the Breton regiment occupying it +at the time of which I write. They are said to be the best fighting +soldiers in France, these Bretons. Of a low order of development, +physically and mentally, they yet have a stubborn will which carries +them through impossible hardships. They may be conquered, but they never +yield.</p> + +<p>The walk round the town upon the walls is extremely interesting. +Gradually making way, the scene changes like the shifting slides of a +panorama. Now the harbour lies before you, with its busy quays, its +docks, its small crowd of shipping; very crowded we have never seen it. +The old Castle rises majestically, looking all its three centuries of +age and royal dignity; its four towers unspoilt by restoration.</p> + +<p>Onward still and the walls rise sheer out of the rocks and the water. At +certain tides, the sea dashes against them and breaks back upon itself +in froth and foam and angry boom. Sight and sound are a wonderful nerve +tonic. Countless rocks rise like small islands in every direction, +stretching far out to sea. On a calm day it is all lovely beyond the +power of words. The sky is blue and brilliant with sunshine. The sea +receives the dazzling rays and returns them in a myriad flashes. The +water seems to have as many tints as the rainbow, and they are as +changing and beautiful and intangible. A distant vessel, passing slowly +with all her sails set, almost becalmed, suggests<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> a dreamy and +delicious existence that has not its rival. The coast of Normandy +stretches far out of sight. In the distance are the Channel Islands, +visible possibly on a clear day and with a strong glass. I know not how +that may be.</p> + +<p>Turn your gaze, and you have St. Malo lying within its grey walls. The +sea on the right is all freedom and broad expanse; the town on the left +is cabin'd, cribb'd, confin'd. Extremes meet here, as they often do +elsewhere.</p> + +<p>It is a succession of slanting roofs, roof above roof, street beyond +street. Many of the houses are very old and form wonderful groups, full +of quaint gables and dormer windows, whilst the high roofs slant upwards +and fall away in picturesque outlines. An artist might work here for +years and still find fresh material to his hand. The streets are narrow, +steep and tortuous; the houses, crowding one upon another, are many +stories high; not a few seem ready to fall with age and decay. Only have +patience, and all yields to time.</p> + +<p>On one of the islets is the tomb of Chateaubriand, who was born in St. +Malo and lived here many years. It was one of his last wishes to be +buried where the sea, for ever playing and plashing around him, would +chant him an everlasting requiem. Many will sympathise with the feeling. +No scene could be more in accordance with the solemnity of death, the +long waiting for the "eternal term;" more in unison with the pure spirit +that could write such a prose-poem as <i>Atala</i>.</p> + +<p>Nothing could have been lovelier than the day of our arrival at St. +Malo; the special day of which I write; for St. Malo has seen our coming +and going many times and in all weathers.</p> + +<p>The crossing had been calm as a lake. Even H.C., who would sooner brave +the tortures of a Spanish Inquisition than the ocean in its angry moods, +and who has occasionally landed after a rough passage in an expiring +condition: even H.C. was impatient to land and break his fast at the +liberal table of the Hôtel de France—very liberal in comparison with +the Hôtel Franklin. We had once dined at the table d'hôte of the +Franklin, and found it a veritable Barmecide's feast, from which we got +up far more hungry than we had sat down; a display so mean that we soon +ceased to wonder that only two others graced the board with ourselves, +and they, though Frenchmen, strangers to the place. The Hôtel de France +was very different from this; if it left something to be desired in the +way of refinement, it erred on the side of abundance.</p> + +<p>Therefore, on landing this morning, we gave our lighter baggage in +charge of the porter of the hotel, who knew us well, and according to +his wont, gave us a friendly greeting. "Monsieur visite encore St. +Malo," said he, "et nous apporte le beau temps. Soyez le bienvenu!" This +was not in the least familiar—from a Frenchman.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/03large.jpg"> + <img src="images/03.jpg" + alt="St. Malo." + title="St. Malo." /></a><br /> + <span class="caption">St. Malo.</span> +</div> + +<p>We went on to the custom-house, and as we had nothing to declare the +inspection was soon over. H.C. had left all his tea and cigars behind +him at the Waterloo Station, in a small hand-bag which he had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> put down +for a moment to record a sudden fine phrenzy of poetical inspiration. +Besides tea and cigars, the bag contained a copy of his beloved "Love +Lyrics," without which he never travels, and a bunch of lilies of the +valley, given him at the moment of leaving home by Lady Maria; an +amiable but æsthetical aunt, who lives on crystallised<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> violets, and +spends her time in endeavouring to convert all the young men of her +acquaintance who go in for muscular Christianity to her æsthetical way +of thinking.</p> + +<p>Leaving the custom-house, we crossed the quay, the old castle in front +of us, and passing through the great gateway, immediately found +ourselves at the Place Chateaubriand and the Hôtel de France. For the +hotel forms part of the building in which Chateaubriand lived.</p> + +<p>We had a very short time to devote to St. Malo. A long journey still lay +before us, for we wished to reach Morlaix that night. There was the +choice of taking the train direct, or of crossing by boat to Dinard, and +so joining the train from St. Malo, which reached Dinan after a long +round. The latter seemed preferable, since it promised more variety, +though shortening our stay at the old town. But, as Madame wisely +remarked, it would give us sufficient time for luncheon, and an extra +hour or so in St. Malo could not be very profitably spent.</p> + +<p>So before long we were once more going down the quay, in company with +the porter—whose lamentations at our abrupt departure were no doubt +sincere as well as politic—and a truck carrying our goods and chattels. +As yet, they were modest in number and respectable in appearance. H.C. +had not commenced his raid upon the old curiosity shops; had not yet +encumbered himself with endless packages, from deal boxes containing old +silver, to worm-eaten, fourteenth century carved-wood monks and +madonnas, carefully wrapped in brown paper, and bound head, hand and +foot (where these essentials were not missing) with cord. All this came +in due time, but to-day we were still dignified.</p> + +<p>We passed without the walls and went down the quay. All our surroundings +were gay and brilliant. Everything was life and movement, the life and +movement of a Continental town. The "gentle gales" wooed the trees, and +the trees made music in the air. The sun shone as it can only shine out +of England. The sky, wearing its purest blue, was flecked with white +clouds pure as angels' wings. The boat we had recently left was +discharging cargo, and her steam was quietly dying down.</p> + +<p>Four old women—each must have been eighty, at least—were seated on a +bench, knitting and smiling and looking as placid and contented as if +the world and the sunshine had been made for them alone, and it was +their duty to enjoy it to the utmost. It was impossible to sketch them: +Time and Tide wait for no man, and even now the whistle of the Dinard +boat might be heard shrieking its impatient warning round the corner: +but we took the old women with an instantaneous camera, and with +wonderful result. It was all over before they had time to pose and put +on expressions; and when they found they had been photographed, they +thought it the great event of their lives. The mere fact is sufficient +with these good folk; possession of the likeness is a very secondary +consideration.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> We left them crooning and laughing and casting admiring +glances after H.C.—even at eighty years of age: possibly with a sigh to +their lost youth.</p> + +<p>Then we turned where the walls bend round and came in sight of the boat, +steaming alongside the small stone landing-place and preparing for +departure.</p> + +<p>The passengers were not numerous. A few men and women; the latter with +white caps and large baskets, who had evidently been over to St. Malo +for household purposes, and were returning with the resigned air—it is +very pathetic—that country women are so fond of wearing when they have +been spending money and lessening the weight of the stocking which +contains their treasured hoard.</p> + +<p>We mounted the bridge, which, being first-class and an extra two or +three sous, was deserted. These thrifty people would as soon think of +burning down their cottages, as of wasting two sous in a useless +luxury—all honour to them for the principle. But we, surveying human +nature from an elevation, felt privileged to philosophise.</p> + +<p>And if this human nature was interesting, what about the natural world +around us? The boat loosed its moorings when time was up, and the grey +walls of St. Malo receded; the innumerable roofs, towers and steeples +grew dreamy and indistinct, dissolved and disappeared. The water was +still blue and calm and flashing with sunlight. To the right lay the +sleeping ocean; ahead of us, Dinard. Land rose on all sides; bays and +creeks ran upwards, out of sight; headlands, rich in verdure, +magnificently wooded; houses standing out, here lonely and solitary, +there clustering almost into towns and villages; the mouth of the Rance, +leading up to Dol and Dinan, which some have called the Rhine of France, +and everyone must think a stream lovely and romantic.</p> + +<p>Most beautiful of all seemed Dinard, which we rapidly approached. In +twenty minutes we had passed into the little harbour beyond the pier. It +was quite a bustling quay, with carriages for hire, and men with barrows +touting noisily for custom, treading upon each other's heels in the race +for existence; cafés and small hotels in the background.</p> + +<p>Having plenty of time, we preferred to walk to the station, and +consigned our baggage to the care of a deaf and dumb man, who +disappeared with everything like magic, left us high and dry upon the +quay to follow more leisurely, and to hope that we were not the victims +of misplaced confidence. It looked very much like it.</p> + +<p>A steep climb brought us to the heights of Dinard. Nothing could be more +romantic. Here were no traces of antiquity; everything was aggressively +modern; all beauty lay in scenery and situation. Humble cottages +embowered in roses and wisteria; stately châteaux standing in large +luxuriant gardens flaming with flowers, proudly secluded behind great +iron gates. At every opening the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> sea, far down, lay stretched before +us. Precipitous cliffs, rugged rocks where flowers and verdure grew in +wild profusion, led sheer to the water's edge. Land everywhere rose in a +dreamy atmosphere; St. Malo and St. Servan across the bay in the +distance. It was a wealth of vegetation; trees in full foliage, masses +of gorgeous flowers, that you had only to stretch out your hand and +gather; the blue sky over all. A scene we sometimes realise in our +dreams, rarely in our waking hours—as we saw it that day. On the +far-off water below small white-winged boats looked as shadowy and +dreamy as the far-off fleecy clouds above.</p> + +<p>But we could not linger. We passed away from the town and the sea and +found ourselves in the country—the station seemed to escape us like a +will-o'-the-wisp. Presently we came to where two roads met—which of +them led to the station? No sign-post, no cottage. We should probably +have taken the wrong one—who does not on these occasions?—when happily +a priest came in sight, with stately step and slow reading his breviary. +Of him we asked the way, and he very politely set us right, in French +that was refreshing after the patois around us—he was evidently a +cultivated man; and offered to escort us.</p> + +<p>As this was unnecessary, we thanked him and departed; and, arriving soon +after at the station, found our deaf and dumb porter had not played us +false. He was cunning enough to ask us three times his proper fare, and +when we gave him half his demand seemed surprised at so much liberality. +Conversation had to be carried on with paper and pencil, and by signs +and tokens.</p> + +<p>The train started after a great flourish of trumpets. We had a journey +of many hours before us through North Brittany; for Brittany is a +hundred years behind the rest of France, and however slow the trains may +be in Fair Normandy they are still slower in the Breton Provinces. In +due time we reached Dinan, when we joined the train that had come round +from St. Malo.</p> + +<p>Nothing in Brittany is more lovely and striking than the situation of +Dinan. It overlooks the Rance, and from the train we looked down into an +immense valley.</p> + +<p>Everywhere the eye rested upon a profusion of wild uncultivated verdure. +The granite cliffs were steep and wooded. Far in the depths "the sacred +river ran." A few boats and barges sailing up and down, passed under the +lovely viaduct; Brittany peasant girls were putting off from the shallow +bank with small cargoes of provisions, evidently coming from some +market. Under the rugged cliffs ran a long row of small, unpretending +houses, level with the river; a paradise sheltered, one would think, +from all the winds of heaven: yet even here, no doubt, the east wind +finds a passage for its sharp tooth to warp the waters.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/04large.jpg"> + <img src="images/04.jpg" + alt="St. Malo." + title="St. Malo." /></a><br /> + <span class="caption">St. Malo.</span> +</div> + +<p>Further on one caught sight of an old church, evidently in the hands of +the Philistines, under process of restoration, and an ancient<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> +monastery. The town crowned the cliffs, but very little could be seen +beyond churches and steeples. We left it to a future time.</p> + +<p>The train went through beautiful and undulating country until it reached +Lamballe, picturesquely placed on the slope of a hill watered by a small +stream, and crowned by the ancient and romantic ruins of the Castle +which belonged to the Counts of Penthièvre, and was dismantled by +Cardinal Richelieu. A fine Gothic building, of which we easily traced +the outlines. The present church of Notre Dame was formerly the chapel +of the Castle.</p> + +<p>Here we longed to explore, but it did not enter into our plans. So, +also, the interesting town of Guingamp had to be passed over for the +present.</p> + +<p>For we were impatient to see Morlaix. Having heard much of its +picturesqueness and antiquity, we hoped for great things. Yet our +experiences began in an adventurous and not very agreeable manner.</p> + +<p>Darkness had fallen when we reached the old town, after a long and +tedious journey. Nothing is so tiring as a slow train, which crawls upon +the road and lingers at every station. Of Morlaix we could see nothing. +We felt ourselves rumbling over a viaduct which seemed to reach the +clouds, and far down we saw the lights of the town shining like stars; +so that, with the stars above, we seemed to be placed between two +firmaments; but that was all. Everything was wrapped in gloom and +mystery. The train steamed into the station and its few lights only +rendered darkness yet more visible. The passengers stumbled across the +line in a small flock to the point of exit.</p> + +<p>We had been strongly recommended to the Hôtel d'Europe, as strongly +cautioned against any other; but we found that the omnibus was not at +the station; nor any flys; nothing but the omnibus of a small hotel we +had never heard of, in charge of a conductor, rough, uncivil, and less +than half sober.</p> + +<p>This conductor—who was also the driver—declined to take us to any +other hotel than his own; would listen to no argument or reason. Had he +been civil, we might have accepted the situation, but it seemed evident +that an inn employing such a man was to be avoided. Unwilling to be +beaten, we sought the station-master and his advice.</p> + +<p>"Why is the omnibus of the Hôtel d'Europe not here?" we asked.</p> + +<p>"No doubt the hotel is full. It is the moment of the great fair, you +know."</p> + +<p>But we did not know. We knew of Leipzig Fair by sad experience, of +Bartholomew Fair by tradition, of the Fair of Novgorod by hearsay; but +of Morlaix Fair we had never heard.</p> + +<p>"What is the fair?" we asked, with a sinking heart.</p> + +<p>"The great Horse Fair," replied the station-master. "Surely you have +heard of it? No one ever visits Morlaix at the time of the fair unless +he comes to buy or sell horses."</p><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> + +<p>Having come neither to buy nor sell horses, we felt crushed, and hoped +for the deluge. I proposed to re-enter the train and let it take us +whither it would—it mattered not. H.C. calmly suggested suicide.</p> + +<p>"What is to be done?" he groaned. "The man refuses to take us to the +Hôtel d'Europe. He is not sober; it is useless to argue with him."</p> + +<p>"The fair again," laughed the official. "It is responsible for +everything just now, and Bretons are not the most sober people at the +best of times. Still, if you wish to go to the Hôtel d'Europe, the man +must take you. There is no other conveyance and he is bound to do so. +But I warn you that it will be full, or the omnibus would have been +here."</p> + +<p>Turning to the man, he threatened to report him, gave him his orders, +and said he should inquire on the morrow how they had been carried out. +We struggled into the omnibus, which was already fairly packed with men +who looked very much like horsedealers, the surly driver slammed the +door, and the station-master politely bowed us away.</p> + +<p>The curtain dropped upon Act I.; Comedy or Tragedy as the event might +prove.</p> + +<p>It soon threatened to be Tragedy. The omnibus tore down a steep hill as +if the horses as well as the driver had been indulging, swayed from side +to side and seemed every moment about to overturn. Now the passengers +were all thrown to the right of the vehicle, now to the left, and now +they all collided in the centre. The enraged driver was having his +revenge upon us, and we repented our boldness in trusting our lives in +his hands. But the sturdy Bretons accepted the situation so calmly that +we felt there must still be a chance of escape.</p> + +<p>So it proved. In due time it drew up at the Hôtel d'Europe with the +noise of an artillery waggon, and out came M. Hellard, the landlord. His +appearance, with his white hair and benevolent face, was sufficient to +recommend him, to begin with. We felt we had done wisely, and made known +our wants.</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry," he replied, "but, gentlemen, I am quite full. There +is not a vacant room in the hotel from roof to basement."</p> + +<p>"Put us anywhere," we persisted, for it would never do to be beaten at +last: "the coal-cellar; a couple of cupboards; anything; but don't send +us away."</p> + +<p>The landlord looked puzzled. He had a tall, fine presence and a handsome +face; not in the least like a Frenchman. "I assure you that I have +neither hole nor corner nor cupboard at your disposal," he declared. "I +have sent away a dozen people in the last hour who arrived by the last +train. Why did you not send me word you were coming?"</p> + +<p>"We are only two, not a dozen," we urged. "And we knew<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> nothing of this +terrible Fair, or we should not have come at all. But as we are here, +here we must remain."</p> + +<p>With that we left the omnibus and went into the hall, enjoying the +landlord's perplexed attitude. But when did a case of this sort ever +fail to yield to persuasion? The last resource has very seldom been +reached, however much we may think it; and an emergency begets its own +remedy. The remedy in this instance was the landlady. Out she came at +the moment from her bureau, all gestures and possibilities; we felt +saved.</p> + +<p>"Mon cher," she exclaimed—not to H.C., but to her spouse—"don't send +the gentlemen away at this time of night, and consign them to you know +not what fate. Something can be managed. <i>Tenez</i>!" with uplifted hands +and an inspiration, "ma bouchère! Mon cher, ma bouchère!" (Voice, +exclamation, gesture, general inspiration, the whole essence would +evaporate if translated.) "Ma bouchère has two charming rooms that she +will be delighted to give me. It is only a cat's jump from here," she +added, turning to us; "you will be perfectly comfortable, and can take +your meals in the hotel. To-morrow I shall have rooms for you."</p> + +<p>So the luggage was brought down; the landlord went through a passage at +arms with the driver, who demanded double fare, and finally went off +with nothing but a promise of punishment. We had triumphed, and thought +our troubles were over: they had only begun.</p> + +<p>Our remaining earthly desire was for strong tea, followed by repose. We +had had very little sleep the previous night on board the boat, and the +day had been long and tiring.</p> + +<p>"The tea immediately; but you will have to wait a little for the rooms," +said Madame. "My bouchère is at the theatre to-night; we must all have a +little distraction sometimes; it will be over a short quarter of an +hour, and then I will send to her."</p> + +<p>Madame was evidently a woman of capacity. The short quarter of an hour +might be profitably spent in consuming the tea: after that—a delicious +prospect of rest, for which we longed as the Peri longed for Paradise.</p> + +<p>"Meanwhile, perhaps messieurs will walk into the café of the hotel, +awaiting their rooms," said the landlord.</p> + +<p>"Where tea shall be served," concluded Madame, giving directions to a +waiter who stood by, a perfect Image of Misery, his face tied up after +the fashion of the French nation suffering from toothache and a +<i>fluxion</i>.</p> + +<p>"But the fire is out in the kitchen," objected Misery, in the spirit of +Pierrot's friend.</p> + +<p>"Then let it be re-lighted," commanded Madame. "At such times as these, +the fire has not the right to be out."</p> + +<p>Monsieur marshalled us into the café, a large long room forming part of +the hotel; by no means the best waiting-place after a long<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> and tiring +day. It was hot, blazing with gas, clouded with smoke—the usual French +smoke, worse than the worst of English tobacco. The room was crowded, +the noise pandemonium. Card playing occupied some tables, dominoes +others. The company was very much what might be expected at a Horse +Fair: loud, familiar, slightly inclined to be quarrelsome; no nerves. +Our host joined a card table, evidently taking up his game where our +arrival had interrupted it. He soon became absorbed and forgot our +existence; our hope was in Madame.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/05large.jpg"> + <img src="images/05.jpg" + alt="Morlaix." + title="Morlaix." /></a><br /> + <span class="caption">Morlaix.</span> +</div> + +<p>We waited in patience; the short quarter of an hour developed into a +long half-hour, when tea arrived: small cups, small tea<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> pot, usual +strainer, straw-coloured infusion; still, it just saved our reason. H.C. +felt that he should never write another line of poetry; the tobacco +fumes had taken an opium effect upon me, and I began to see visions and +imagined ourselves in Dante's Inferno. We looked with mild reproach at +the waiter. He quite understood; a guilty conscience needed no words; +and explained that the chef had let out the fire. As the chef was at +that moment in the café playing cards, as absorbed and excited as +anyone, no wonder that he had forgotten his ordinary duties.</p> + +<p>"And our rooms?" we asked. "Are they ready?"</p> + +<p>"The theatre is not yet over," replied the waiter. "Madame is on the +look-out. The play is extra long to-night in honour of the fair."</p> + +<p>That miserable fair!</p> + +<p>The tea revived us: it always does. "I feel less like expiring," +murmured H.C., with a tremulous sigh. "But this place is like a furnace +seven times heated, and the noise is pandemonium in revolt. What would +Lady Maria think of this? Why need that frivolous butcher-woman have +gone to the theatre to-night of all nights in the year? And why need all +these people have stayed away from it? Why is everything upside down and +cross and contrary? And why are we here at all?"</p> + +<p>H.C. was evidently on the verge of brain fever.</p> + +<p>We waited; there was nothing else for it. It was torture; but others +have been tortured before now; and some have survived, and some have +died of it. We felt that we should die of it. Half past eleven had come +and gone; midnight was about to strike. Oh that we had gone on with that +wretched omnibus, no matter what the end. Yes; it had come to that.</p> + +<p>At last human nature could bear it no longer: we appealed to the +landlord. He looked up from his game, flushed, startled and repentant.</p> + +<p>"What! have they not taken you to the bouchère!" he exclaimed. "Why the +theatre was over long ago, and no doubt everything is arranged. You +shall be conducted at once."</p> + +<p>Misery, looking himself more dead than alive (he informed us presently +in an access of confidence that he had had four teeth taken out that day +and felt none the better for it), was told off to act as guide, and +shouldering such baggage as we needed for the night, stepped forth. We +pitied him, he seemed so completely at the end of all things; and +feeling, by comparison, that there was a deeper depth of suffering than +our own, we revived. His name was not Misery, but André.</p> + +<p>Monsieur accompanied us to the door and wished us Good-night. Madame had +disappeared and was nowhere to be found; the lights were out in her +bureau. It looked very much as if she, too, had gone to bed and +forgotten us. "Cette chère dame is tired," said the sympathetic +landlord. "We really have no rest day or night at the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> time of the fair. +But you may depend upon it she has made it all right with her bouchère."</p> + +<p>So we departed in faith. It was impossible to be angry with Monsieur, +though we felt neglected. He was so unlike the ordinary run of landlords +that one could only repose confidence in him and overlook small +inattentions. He had a way of throwing himself into your interests, and +making them his own for the time being. But I fear that his memory was +very short.</p> + +<p>We departed with thanksgiving, and followed our guide. I cannot say that +we trod in his footsteps, for, too far gone to lift his feet bravely, he +merely shuffled along the pavement. With one hand he supported the +luggage on his shoulder; with the other he carried a candle, ostensibly +to light our pathway, in reality only complicating matters and the +darkness. As we turned round by the hotel, the clocks struck the +witching hour. H.C. shivered and looked about for ghosts. It was really +a very ghostly scene and atmosphere. In spite of the occasion of the +fair, the town was in repose. The theatre was long over; the extra +entertainment on account of the fair had been a mere invention of the +imaginative waiter's; people had very properly gone home to bed, and +lights were out. No noisy groups were abroad, making night hideous with +untimely revelry.</p> + +<p>We formed a strange procession. Our little guide slipped and shuffled, +hardly able to put one foot before the other. He wore house-slippers of +list or wool, and made scarcely any noise as he went along. Every now +and then he groaned in the agonies of toothache; and each time H.C. +shivered and looked back for the ghost. It was excusable, for the candle +threw weird shadows around, which flitted about like phantoms playing at +hide-and-seek. The night was so calm that the flame scarcely flickered.</p> + +<p>In spite of the darkness, we could see how picturesque was the old town, +and we longed for daylight. Against the dark background of sky the yet +darker outlines of the houses stood out mysteriously. We turned into a +narrow street where opposite neighbours might almost have shaken hands +with each other from the upper windows. Wonderful gabled roofs succeeded +each other in a long procession. There seemed not a vestige of anything +modern in the whole thoroughfare. We were in a scene of the Middle Ages, +back in those far-off days.</p> + +<p>Here and there a light shining in a room revealed a large latticed +window, running the whole width of the house. In spite of André's +fatigue and burden, we could only stand and gaze. No human power could +mesmerise us, but the window did so.</p> + +<p>What could be more startlingly weird and picturesque than the bright +reflection of these latticed panes, surrounded by this intense darkness, +these mysterious outlines? Almost we expected to see a ghostly vision +advance from the interior, and, opening the lattice with a skeleton +hand, ask our pleasure at thus invading their soli<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span>tude at the witching +hour—for the vibration of the bells tolling midnight was still upon the +air, travelling into space, perhaps announcing to other worlds that to +us another day was dead, another day was born.</p> + +<p>But no ghost appeared. A very human figure, however, did so. It looked +down upon us for a moment, and mistaking our rapt gaze at the +antiquities—of which it did not form a part—for mere vulgar curiosity, +held up a reproving hand. Then, catching sight of H.C., it darted +forward, looked breathlessly into the night, and seemed also mesmerised +as by a revelation.</p> + +<p>We quietly went our way, leaving the spell to work itself out. Our +footsteps echoed in the silent night, with the running accompaniment of +a double-shuffle from Misery. No other sound broke the stillness; we +were absolutely alone with the ancient houses, the stars and the sky. It +might have been a Mediæval City of the Dead, unpeopled since the days of +its youth. Our candle burned on in the hand of André; our reflections +danced and played about us: one hears of the Dance of Death—this was +the Dance of Ghosts—a natural sequence; ghostly shadows flitted out of +every doorway, down every turning.</p> + +<p>At last we emerged on to an open space, partly filled by a modern +building with a hideous roof, evidently the market place. Here we +ascended to a higher level. Ancient outlines still surrounded us, but +were interrupted by modern ones also. Square roofs and straight lines +broke the continuity of the picturesque gabled roofs and latticed +windows. Ichabod may be written upon the lintels of all that is ancient +and disappearing, all that is modern and hideous. The spirit and beauty +of the past are dead and buried.</p> + +<p>"We are almost there," said André, with a sigh that would have been +profound if he had had strength to make it so. "A few more yards and we +arrive."</p> + +<p>We too sighed with relief, though the midnight walk amidst these wonders +of a bygone age had proved refreshing and awakening. But we sympathised +with our guide, who was only kept up by necessity.</p> + +<p>We passed out of the market place again into a narrow street, dark, +silent and gloomy. At the third or fourth house, André exclaimed "Nous +voilà!" and down went the baggage like a dead-weight in front of a +closed doorway.</p> + +<p>The house was in darkness: no sight or sound could be seen or heard; +everyone seemed wrapped in slumber; a strange condition of things if we +were expected. The man rang the bell: a loud, long peal. No response; no +light, no movement; profound silence.</p> + +<p>"C'est drôle!" he murmured. "The theatre" (that everlasting theatre!) +"has been long over and Madame must have returned. Where can she be?"</p> + +<p>"Probably in bed," replied H.C. "We have little chance of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> following her +excellent example if this is to go on. There must be some mistake, and +we are not expected."</p> + +<p>"Impossible," returned André. "La Patrone never forgets anything and +must have arranged it all." He, too, had unlimited confidence in Madame, +but for once it was misplaced.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/06large.jpg"> + <img src="images/06.jpg" + alt="Grande Rue, Morlaix." + title="Grande Rue, Morlaix." /></a><br /> + <span class="caption">Grande Rue, Morlaix.</span> +</div> + +<p>Not only the house, but the whole street was in darkness. Not the ghost +of a glimmer appeared from any window or doorway; not a gas-light from +end to end. Oil lamps ought to have been slung across from house to +house to keep up the character of the thoroughfare; but here, +apparently, consistency was less thought of than economy. We looked and +looked, every moment expecting a cloaked watchman to appear, with +lantern casting weird flashes around and a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> sepulchral voice calling the +hour and the weather. But <i>Il Sereno</i> of Majorca had no counterpart in +Morlaix; the darkness, silence and solitude remained unbroken.</p> + +<p>We were the sole group of humanity visible, and must have appeared +singular as the still flaring candle lighted up our faces, pale and +anxious from fatigue, threw out in huge proportions the head of our +guide, bound up as if prepared for the grave for which he was fast +qualifying.</p> + +<p>After a time Misery gave another peal at the bell, and, borrowing a +stick, drummed a tattoo upon the door that might have waked the departed +Mediævals. This at length brought forth fruit.</p> + +<p>A latticed window was opened, a white figure appeared, a nightcapped +head was put forth without ceremony, a feminine voice, sleepy and +indignant, demanded who thus disturbed the sacred silence of the night.</p> + +<p>"The gentlemen are here," said André, mildly. "Come down and open the +door. A pretty reception this, for tired travellers."</p> + +<p>"What gentlemen?" asked the voice, which belonged to no less a person +than Madame la bouchère herself.</p> + +<p>"Parbleu! why the gentlemen you are expecting. The gentlemen la Patrone +sent to you about and that you agreed to lodge for the night."</p> + +<p>"André—I know your voice, though I cannot see your form—you have been +taking too much, and to-morrow I shall complain to Madame Hellard. How +dare you wake quiet people out of their first sleep?"</p> + +<p>"First sleep! Has la bouchère not been to the theatre?"</p> + +<p>"Theatre, you good-for-nothing! Do I ever join in such frivolities? I +have been in bed and asleep ever since ten o'clock—where you ought to +be at this hour of the night."</p> + +<p>"But la Patrone sent to engage rooms for these gentlemen and you +promised to give them. They have come. Open the door. We cannot stay +here till daybreak."</p> + +<p>"You will stay there till doomsday if it depends on my opening to you. +La Patrone never sent and I never promised. I have only one small empty +bed in my house, and in the other bed in the same room two of my boys +are sleeping. I am very sorry for the gentlemen. My compliments to la +Patrone, and before sending gentlemen to me at midnight, she ought to +find out if I can accommodate them. Good-night to you, and let us have +no more rioting and bell-ringing."</p> + +<p>The nightcapped head was withdrawn, the lattice was sharply closed, and +we were left to make the best of the situation.</p> + +<p>It was serious: nearly one in the morning, the whole town slumbering, +and we "homeless, ragged, and tanned."</p> + +<p>To remain was useless. Not all the ringing and rowing in the world would +bring forth Madame again, though it might possibly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> produce her avenging +spouse. André shouldered his baggage and we began to retrace our steps.</p> + +<p>"Back to the hotel," commanded H.C.; "they must put us up somewhere."</p> + +<p>"Not a hole or corner unoccupied," groaned André. "You can't sleep in +the bread oven. And they will all have gone to bed by the time we get +back again."</p> + +<p>Suddenly he halted before a house at the corner of the marketplace. It +looked little better than a common cabaret, and was also closed and +dark. Down went the luggage, as he knocked mysteriously at the shutters.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing?" we said. "You don't suppose that we would put up +here even for an hour."</p> + +<p>"It is clean and respectable," objected André. "Messieurs cannot walk +the streets till morning."</p> + +<p>A door was as mysteriously opened, leading into a room. A couple of +candles were burning at a table, round which some rough-looking men were +seated, drinking and playing cards, but keeping silence. It looked +suspicious and uninviting.</p> + +<p>"In fact we might be murdered here," shuddered H.C.: "most certainly we +should be robbed."</p> + +<p>André made his request: could they give us lodgment?</p> + +<p>"Not so much as a chair or a bench," answered the woman, to our relief; +for though we should never have entered, André might have disappeared +with the baggage and given us some trouble. He evidently had all the +obstinacy of the Breton about him, and was growing desperate. The door +was closed again without ceremony, and once more we were left to make +the best of it.</p> + +<p>This time we took the lead and made for the hotel. Again we passed +through the wonderful street with the overhanging eaves and gables. +Again we paused and lingered, lost in admiration. But the light had +departed from the latticed window, and no doubt in dreams the Fair One +was beholding again the vision of H.C.</p> + +<p>A few minutes more and we stood before the hotel. They were just closing +the doors. Monsieur Hellard was crossing the passage at the moment. +Never shall I forget his consternation. He raised his hands, and his +hair stood on end.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" he cried.</p> + +<p>"Matter enough," replied André taking up the parable. "Madame never sent +to the bouchère, and the bouchère has no room. And I think"—despair +giving him courage—"it was too bad to give us a wild goose chase at +this time of night."</p> + +<p>"And now you must do your best and put us where you can," I concluded. +"We are too tired to stir another step."</p> + +<p>"I haven't where to lodge a cat," returned the perplexed landlord. "I +cannot do impossibilities. What on earth are we to manufacture?"</p><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You have a salon?"</p> + +<p>"Comme de juste!"</p> + +<p>"Is it occupied?"</p> + +<p>"No; but there are no beds there. It stands to reason."</p> + +<p>"Then put down two mattresses on the floor, and we will make the best of +them for to-night. And the sooner you allow us to repose our weary +heads, the more grateful we shall be. It is nearly one o'clock."</p> + +<p>Monsieur seemed convinced, and gave the word of command which sent two +or three waiters flying. Poor André was one of them; but we soon +discovered that he was the most willing and obliging man in the world.</p> + +<p>Even now everything was mismanaged and had to be done over again; a +wordy war ensued between landlord, waiters and chambermaids, each one +having an original idea for our comfort and wanting their own way. The +small Bedlam that went on would have been diverting at any other time. +It was very nearly two o'clock before we closed the door upon the world, +and felt that something like peace and repose lay before us.</p> + +<p>The room was not uncomfortable. It had all the stiff luxuriance of a +French salon, and a gilt clock on the mantelpiece ticked loudly and rang +out the hours—too many of which, alas, we heard. On the table were the +remains of a dessert, evidently hastily brought in from the table d'hôte +room, which communicated with this by folding doors: dishes of biscuits, +raisins and luscious grapes.</p> + +<p>"At least we can refresh ourselves," sighed H.C., taking up a fine bunch +and offering me another, "Nectar in its primitive state; the drink of +the gods."</p> + +<p>"And of Poets," I added.</p> + +<p>"Talk not of poetry," he cried. "I feel that my vein has evaporated, and +after to-night will never return."</p> + +<p>Very soon, you may be sure, the room was in darkness and repose.</p> + +<p>"The inequalities of the earth's surface are nothing to my bed," groaned +H.C. as he laid himself down. "It is all hills and valleys. I think they +must have put the mattress upon all the brooms and brushes of the hotel, +crossed by all the fire-irons. And that wretched clock ticks on my brain +like a sledge-hammer. I shall not be alive by morning."</p> + +<p>"Have you made your will?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," he replied; "and left you my museum, my shooting-box, all my +unpublished MSS. and the care of my æsthetic aunt, Lady Maria. You will +not find her troublesome; she lives on crystallised violets and barley +water."</p> + +<p>"Mixed blessings," I thought, but was too polite to say so. It must have +been my last thought, for I remembered no more until the clock awoke me, +striking four; and woke me again, striking six; after which sleep +finally fled.</p><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p> + +<p>Soon the town also awoke; doors slammed and echoed; omnibuses and other +vehicles rattled over the stones; voices seemed to fill the air; the +streets echoed with foot-passengers. The sun was shining gloriously and +we threw open the windows to the new day and the fresh breeze, and took +our first look at Morlaix by daylight. Already we felt braced and +exhilarated as we took in deep draughts of oxygen.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a href="images/07large.jpg"> + <img src="images/07.jpg" + alt="Market Place, Morlaix." + title="Market Place, Morlaix." /></a><br /> + <span class="caption">Market Place, Morlaix.</span> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was a lively scene. The Square close by was surrounded by gabled +houses, and houses not gabled: a mixture of Ancient and Modern. That it +should be all old was too much to expect, excepting from such sleepy old +towns as Vitré or Nuremberg, where you have unbroken outlines, a +mediæval picture unspoilt by modern barbarities; may dream and fancy +yourself far back in the ages, and find it difficult indeed to realise +that you are really not in the fifteenth but in the nineteenth century.</p> + +<p>The streets were already beginning to be gay and animated; there was a +look of expectancy and mild excitement on many faces, announcing that +something unusual was going on. It was fair time and fête time; and even +these stolid, sober people were stirred into something like laughter and +enjoyment. Fair Normandy has a good deal of the vivacity of the French; +but Graver Brittany, like England, loves to take its pleasures somewhat +sadly.</p> + +<p>It was a lovely morning. Before us, and beyond the square, stretched the +heights of Morlaix, green and fertile, fruit and flower-laden. To our +left towered the great viaduct, over which the train rolls, depositing +its passengers far, far above the tops of the houses, far above the +tallest steeple. It was a very striking picture, and H.C. shouted for +joy and felt the muse rekindling within him. Upon all shone the glorious +sun, above all was the glorious sky, blue, liquid and almost tangible, +as only foreign skies can be. The fatigues of yesterday, the terrible +adventures of the past night, all were forgotten. Nay, that midnight +expedition was remembered with intense pleasure. All that was +uncomfortable about it had evaporated; nothing remained but a vision +wonderfully unusual, weird, picturesque: grand old-world outlines +standing out in the surrounding darkness; a small procession of three; a +flickering candle throwing out ghostly lights and shadows; a willing but +unhappy waiter dying of exhaustion and pain; a curious figure of Misery +in which there certainly was nothing picturesque, but much to arouse +one's pity and sympathy—the better, diviner part of one's nature.</p> + +<p>"Hurrah for a new day!" cried H.C., turning from the window and +hastening to beautify and adorn. "New scenes, new people, new +impressions! Oh, this glorious world! the delight of living!"</p> + + +<div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/01de.jpg" + alt="Decorative" + title="Decorative" /> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p> +<h2>WHO WAS THE THIRD MAID?</h2> + + +<p>It was on a wild October evening about a year ago that my wife and I +arrived by train at a well-known watering-place in the North of England. +The wind was howling and roaring with delight at its resistless power; +the rain came hissing down in large drops.</p> + +<p>On yonder headland doubtless might be heard "The Whistling Woman"—dread +harbinger of death and disaster to the mariner. The gale had been hourly +increasing in violence, till for the last hour before arriving at our +destination we had momentarily expected that the train would be blown +from the track. Our hotel was situated on an eminence overlooking the +town; and as we slowly ascended to it in our cab we thought: "Well, we +must not be surprised to find our intended abode for the night has +vanished."</p> + +<p>However, presently we stopped in front of a building which looked +substantial enough to withstand anything; and in answer to our driver's +application to the bell, the door was promptly opened by a +smartly-attired porter. He was closely followed by a person full of +smiles and bows, who posted himself in the doorway ready to receive us.</p> + +<p>All at once there was a terrific bang, as though a forty-pounder had +been fired to welcome our arrival; and he of the smiles and bows was +hurled headlong against the muddy wheel of our conveyance by the +slamming-to of the large door. My wife's bonnet blew off and tugged hard +at its moorings; the light in the porch was extinguished; while the wind +seemed to give a shriek of triumph at the jokes he was playing upon us. +Here we were, then, in total darkness and exposed to the drenching rain. +However, half-an-hour afterwards all our discomforts were forgotten as +we sat down to an excellent dinner à la carte.</p> + +<p>Next morning I was abroad very early, looking for lodgings. Fortune +seemed to smile upon me on this occasion; for scarcely had I proceeded +fifty yards from my hotel when I came upon a very nice-looking row of +houses, and in the window of the first was "Lodgings to let." Knocking +at the door, it was soon opened by a very neat-looking maid.</p> + +<p>I inquired if I could see the proprietor, but was told that Miss G. was +not yet down. I said I would wait; and was shown into a very +comfortably-furnished dining-room. Soon Miss G. appeared, and proved to +be a pretty brunette of about five-and-twenty, whose dark eyes during +our short interview were every now and then fixed on me with an +intentness that seemed to be trying to read what kind of person I was; +whilst her manner, though decidedly pleasing, had a certain restlessness +in it which I could not help observing. Her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> father and mother being +both dead, she kept the lodging-house herself. I asked her if she had a +good cook, to which she replied that she was responsible for most of +that difficult part of the ménage herself, keeping two maids to assist +in the house and parlour work. She went on to say that her drawing-room +was "dissected:" a term common amongst north country lodging-house +keepers, and meant to express that it was undergoing its autumn +cleaning, but she would have it put straight if I wished. I told her +that we should be quite contented with the dining-room, provided we had +a good bed-room. This she at once showed me, and, soon coming to terms, +I returned to the hotel.</p> + +<p>After breakfast, I went to the bureau to ask for my account. Whilst it +was being made out, I observed casually that I had taken lodgings at +Miss G.'s on Cliff Terrace, upon which the accountant looked quickly up +and said: "Oh, Miss G.'s," and then as quickly went on with my bill. I +hardly noticed this at the moment, though I thought of it afterwards.</p> + +<p>Eleven o'clock saw us comfortably ensconced in our rooms. After lunch, +we took a delightful expedition, the weather having greatly moderated. +We found that night, at dinner, that Miss G. was a first-rate cook, and +we retired to rest much pleased with our quarters.</p> + +<p>We soon made the acquaintance of the two maids, Jane, who waited upon +us, and Mary, the housemaid; and two very pleasant and obliging young +women we found them.</p> + +<p>About the third morning of our stay, on going up to my bed-room after +breakfast, I was surprised to find a strange maid in the room. She was +standing by the bed, smoothing down the bed-clothes with both hands and +appeared to take no notice of me, but continued gazing steadily in front +of her, while her hands went mechanically on smoothing the clothes. I +could not help being struck with her pale face, which wore a look of +pain, and the fixed and almost stony expression of her eyes. I left her +in exactly the same position as I found her. On coming down I said to my +wife: "I did not know Miss G. employed three servants. There certainly +is another making the bed in our room." I am short-sighted, and my wife +would have it I had made a mistake; but I felt quite certain I had not. +Later on, whilst Jane was laying the lunch, I said to her: "I thought +that you and Mary were the only two servants in the house."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, only me and Mary," was Jane's reply, as she left the room.</p> + +<p>"There," said my wife, "I told you that you were mistaken." And I did +not pursue the subject further.</p> + +<p>Two or three days slipped away in pleasant occupations, such as driving, +boating, etc., and we had forgotten all about the third maid. We saw but +little of Miss G., though her handiwork was pleasantly apparent in the +cuisine.</p> + +<p>On the sixth morning of our stay, which was the day before<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> we were to +leave, my wife after breakfast said she would go up and do a little +packing whilst I made out our route for the following day in the +Bradshaw; but was soon interrupted by the return of my wife with a +rather scared look on her face.</p> + +<p>"Well," she said, "you were right after all, for there is another maid, +and she is now in our bed-room, and apparently engaged in much the same +occupation as when you saw her there. She took no notice of me, but +stood there with her body slightly bent over the bed, looking straight +in front of her, her hands smoothing the bed-clothes." She described her +as having dark hair, her face very pale, and her mouth very firmly set. +My curiosity was now so much awakened that I determined to question Miss +G. on the subject. But our carriage was now at the door waiting for us +to start on an expedition that would engage us all day.</p> + +<p>On my return, late in the afternoon, meeting Miss G. in the passage, I +said to her: "Who is the third servant that Mrs. K. and myself have seen +once or twice in our bed-room?"</p> + +<p>Miss G. looked, I thought, rather scared, and, murmuring something that +I could not catch, turned and went hurriedly down the stairs into the +kitchen.</p> + +<p>An hour afterwards, as we were sitting waiting for our dinner, Jane +brought a note from Miss G. enclosing her account, and saying that she +had just had a telegram summoning her to the sick-bed of a relation, +that in all probability she would not be back till after our departure, +but that she had left directions with the servants, and hoped they would +make us quite comfortable, and that we would excuse her hurried +departure.</p> + +<p>A few minutes after, a cab drove up to the door, into which, from our +window, we saw Miss G. get, and drive rapidly away.</p> + +<p>Later on in the evening, whilst Jane was clearing away the dinner +things, I said to her: "By-the-by, Jane, who is the third maid?" She was +just going to leave the room as I spoke; instead of replying she turned +round with such a scared look on her face that I felt quite alarmed, +then, hurriedly catching up her tray, she left the room. Thinking that +further inquiry would be very disagreeable to her, I forbore again +mentioning the subject. Next day, our week being up, we departed for +fresh woods and pastures new.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Our tour led us considerably further north, but a month later saw us +homeward bound. The nearest route by rail led us by X. As we drew up at +the station we noticed on the platform a parson, in whom we recognised +one of the clergy of X., whose church we had been to. Presently the door +of our compartment was opened and he put in a lady, wished her good-bye, +the guard's whistle blew and we were off. After a short time we fell +into conversation with the lady and found her to be the clergyman's +wife. Amongst other things, we asked after Miss G.</p><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, Miss G.," she replied; "she is very well, but I hear, poor thing, +she has not had a very good season."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry to hear that," I replied; "why is it?" She was silent for a +minute and then related to us the following facts.</p> + +<p>At the beginning of the season a rather untoward event occurred at Miss +G.'s lodgings. An elderly lady took one of the flats for a month. She +had with her an attendant of about thirty. Before long Miss G. observed +that they were not on very good terms, and one morning the old lady was +found dead in her bed.</p> + +<p>A doctor was at once called in, who, on viewing the body, found there +were very suspicious marks round the neck and throat, as if a person's +fingers had been tightly pressed upon them. The maid on hearing this at +once became very restless, and going to her bed-room, which was at the +top of the house, packed a small bag and, having put on her things, was +about to descend the stairs when, from hurry or agitation, she missed +her footing and, falling to the bottom, broke her neck.</p> + +<p>But not the least extraordinary part of the business was that not the +slightest clue could be obtained as to who the lady was, the linen of +herself and her maid having only initials marked on it. The police did +their best by advertising and inquiry, but all they could find out was +that they had come straight to X. from Liverpool, where they had arrived +from America. There they were traced to Fifth Avenue Hotel, in New York, +where they had been only known by the number of their room, and to which +they had come from no one knew whither. Enough money was found in the +lady's box to pay the expenses of their funerals. An open verdict was +returned at the inquests which were held. The police took possession of +their belongings and had them, no doubt, at the present moment.</p> + +<p>At this point the train stopped, the lady wished us "Good-morning" and +left the carriage; and we, as we steamed south, were left to meditate on +this strange but perfectly true story and to solve as we best could the +still unanswered question of "Who was the third maid?"</p> + + +<div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/03de.jpg" + alt="Decorative" + title="Decorative" /> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p> +<h2>A MODERN WITCH.</h2> + + +<h4>I.</h4> + +<p>Never shall I forget my first meeting with Irene Latouche. After +travelling all day, I had arrived at my friend Maitland's house to find +that dinner had been over for at least an hour. Having taken the +precaution of dining during the journey this did not affect me very +materially; but my kindly host, who met me in the hall, took it very +much to heart.</p> + +<p>"We quite gave you up, my dear fellow, we did indeed," he reiterated, +grasping my hand with additional fervour each time he made the +assertion. "My wife will be so vexed at your missing dinner. You are +sure you won't have a bit now? Such a haunch of venison, hung to a turn! +One of old Ward's. You know he has taken Glen Bogie this season, and is +having rare sport, I am told. Ah, well, if you really won't take +anything, we had better join the ladies in the drawing-room."</p> + +<p>"But the luggage hasn't come from the station yet," I interposed, "and +my dress clothes are in my portmanteau—"</p> + +<p>"Nonsense about dress clothes! It will be bed-time soon. You don't +suppose anybody cares what you have on, do you?"</p> + +<p>With this comforting assurance, Maitland pushed open the drawing-room +door, and a flood of light streamed out into the hall. Dazzled by the +sudden glare I stepped back, but not before I had caught sight of a most +striking figure at the further end of the long room.</p> + +<p>"Who on earth is that girl?" I whispered.</p> + +<p>"Which? Oh, the one playing the harp, you mean? I might have known that! +A rare beauty, isn't she? I thought you would find her out pretty soon!"</p> + +<p>Now I am a middle-aged bachelor of quiet tastes, and nothing annoys me +more than when my friends poke ponderous fun at me in this fashion. So, +ignoring Maitland's facetious suggestion, I calmly walked forward and +shook hands with my hostess. She greeted me with her customary +cordiality, and in about two minutes I was feeling perfectly at home in +spite of my dusty clothes. I now had an opportunity of examining the +other guests, who were dispersed in groups about the room. Most of them +were people I had frequently met before under the Maitlands' hospitable +roof, but the face which had first arrested my attention was that of an +absolute stranger.</p> + +<p>"I see you are admiring Miss Latouche, like the rest of us," said Mrs. +Maitland in a low voice. "Such a talented girl! She can play positively +any kind of instrument, and has persuaded me to have the old harp taken +out of the lumber-room and put in order for her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> She looks so well +playing it, doesn't she? Quite like Cleopatra or the Queen of Sheba!"</p> + +<p>"She is undoubtedly handsome in a certain style," I replied cautiously. +"I don't know whether I admire such a gipsy type myself—"</p> + +<p>"Ah, you agree with me then," interrupted my hostess eagerly. "I call it +an uncomfortable sort of beauty for a drawing-room. She always looks as +if she might produce a dagger at a moment's notice, as the people do in +operas. Give me a nice simple girl with a pretty English face, like my +niece Lily Wallace over there! But I am bound to say Miss Latouche makes +a great sensation wherever she goes. Of course she has wonderful +powers."</p> + +<p>I was about to inquire in what these powers consisted, when Mrs. +Maitland was called away. Left to myself, I could not repress a smile at +the comparison she had instituted between her own niece and the +beautiful stranger. Lily was well enough, a good-tempered pink and white +girl, who in twenty years' time would develop into just such another +florid matron as her aunt. And then I looked again at Miss Latouche.</p> + +<p>She was seated a little apart from the rest, one white arm hanging +listlessly over the harp upon which she had just been playing. Her large +dark eyes had a far-away look of utter abstraction from all sub-lunary +matters that I have never seen in anyone besides. Masses of wavy black +hair were loosely coiled over her head, round a high Spanish comb, and +half concealed her brow in a dusky cloud. At first sight the black +velvet dress, which swept around her in heavy folds, seemed rather an +unsuitable costume for so young a girl. But its sombreness was relieved +by a gorgeous Indian scarf, thrown carelessly over the shoulders. I do +not know who was responsible for Miss Latouche's get-up, or if she +really required an extra wrap. At any rate, the combination of colours +was very effective.</p> + +<p>Whilst I was speculating vaguely on the probable character of this +striking young lady, she slowly rose from her low seat and crossed the +room. Her eyes were wide open, but apparently fixed on space, and she +moved with the slow, mechanical motion of a sleepwalker. To my intense +surprise she came straight towards me, and stood in an expectant +attitude about a yard from where I was sitting. Not knowing exactly how +to receive this advance, I jumped up and offered her my chair. She waved +it aside with a gesture of imperial scorn. Her dark eyes positively +flashed fire, and a rich glow flushed her pale olive cheek. I could see +that I had deeply offended her.</p> + +<p>"I must apologise," I began nervously, "but I thought you might be +tired."</p> + +<p>Before the words were fairly spoken, I realised the full imbecility of +this remark. My only excuse for making such a fatuous observation was +that the near vicinity of this weird beauty had paralysed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> my reasoning +faculties, so that I hardly knew what I was saying. And then she spoke +in a low, rich voice which thrilled me through every nerve. I could not +understand the meaning of her words, or even recognise the language in +which they were spoken. But the tone of her voice was unutterably sad, +like an inarticulate wail of despair. All the time her glorious eyes +were resting on me as if she would read my inmost thoughts, whilst I +responded with an idiotic smile of embarrassment. Even now, after the +lapse of years, it makes me hot all over to think of that moment.</p> + +<p>I don't know how long I had been standing looking like a fool, when Miss +Latouche turned away as abruptly as she had approached and walked +straight to the door. With a sigh of relief I sank down on the despised +chair. After a few moments I gained sufficient courage to glance round +and assure myself that no spectators had witnessed my discomfiture. It +was a great relief to find that the entire party had migrated to the +further end of the room, where a funny little man was singing comic +songs with a banjo accompaniment. I slipped in next my host, who was +thoroughly enjoying the performance.</p> + +<p>"Encore! Capital! Give us some more of it, Tommy," he roared when the +song came to an end. "That's my sort of music, isn't it yours, Carew?" +he added, turning to me.</p> + +<p>"A very clever performance," I answered stiffly, divided between my +natural abhorrence of comic songs and the difficulty of making a candid +reply in the immediate vicinity of the funny man.</p> + +<p>"Just so. That's what I call really clever," said Maitland, not +perceiving my lack of enthusiasm. "Worth a dozen of those melancholy +tunes on the harp, in my opinion. By-the-bye, what's become of Miss +Latouche? Couldn't stand this sort of thing, I suppose. Too merry for +her. What a pity such a handsome girl should mope so."</p> + +<p>"Miss Latouche appears to be rather eccentric," I interposed. "Something +of a genius, I imagine?"</p> + +<p>"So they all say. Well, she is a clever girl, certainly—only—but you +will soon find out what she is like. Here's Tommy going to give us that +capital song about the bad cigar. Ever heard it? No? Ha! ha! It will +make you laugh then."</p> + +<p>That is just what I hate about a comic performance. One laughs under +compulsion. If one is sufficiently independent to resist, one incurs the +suspicion of being wanting in humour and some well-meaning friend feels +bound to explain the joke until one forces a little hollow mirth. +Directly the song was in full swing, and the audience convulsed with +merriment, I seized my opportunity and fled from the drawing-room. In +the library I knew by experience that I should find a good fire and a +comfortable arm-chair, both of which would be acceptable after my long +journey. It was separated from the rest of the house by a heavy baize +door and a long pass<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span>age, so that I was not likely to be disturbed by +any stray revellers. Several years' experience of the comforts of a +bachelor establishment has given me a great taste for my own society, +and it was with unfeigned delight that I looked forward to a quiet +half-hour in this haven of refuge.</p> + +<p>"Bother Maitland! Why doesn't he have the house better warmed and +lighted," I muttered, as the baize door swung behind me, and the sudden +draught extinguished my candle. I would not go back to relight it for +fear of encountering some officious friend in the hall, who would insist +upon accompanying me into my retreat. I preferred groping my way down +the long corridor, which was in darkness except for a bright streak of +moonlight that streamed in through a window at the further end. I had +just decided that it was my plain duty to give Maitland the address of a +good shop where he could not only procure cheap lamps but also very +serviceable stoves for warming passages, at a moderate price, when I +discovered that the said window was open.</p> + +<p>"Too bad of the servants," I thought; "I should discharge them all if +they were mine. It quite accounts for the howling draught through the +house. Just the thing to give one rheumatism at this time of year."</p> + +<p>Advancing with the intention of excluding the chilly blast, I was +suddenly arrested by the sight of a motionless figure kneeling in front +of the window. It was Irene Latouche. I had not noticed her in the +confusing patch of moonlight until my foot was almost on the heavy +velvet dress which fell over the floor like a great dark pall. Her arms +were resting on the window-sill, her beautiful pale face gazing upwards +with an expression of agonised despair. Evidently she was quite +unconscious of my presence.</p> + +<p>Whilst I was turning over in my mind the possibility of beating a silent +retreat, she gave a low groan, so full of unquenchable pain that my +blood fairly ran cold. Then rising to her feet, she leaned far out into +the chill night air, stretching her white arms up towards the stars with +a passionate action of entreaty.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my Beloved! Shall I ever pray in vain? Is there no mercy?" she +cried, and the sound of her voice was like the wind moaning through +rocky caverns. "My heart is breaking! My strength is almost at an end! +How much longer must I suffer this unspeakable misery?"</p> + +<p>Clearly this sort of thing was not intended for strangers. I stopped my +ears and shrank as closely as I could into the shadow of the wall. But I +could not take my eyes off the girl for a moment. Such an exhibition of +wild passion I have never witnessed before or since. As a dramatic +effort it was superb; but all the time I was distinctly conscious of the +absurd figure I should cut if any third person came on the scene. Also +certain warning twinges in my left shoulder reminded me that I was not +in the habit of standing by open windows on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> bleak autumn nights. Why +Miss Latouche did not catch her death of cold I cannot imagine; for I +could see the wind disordering her dark masses of hair and blowing back +the Indian scarf from her bare shoulders. But she appeared to be as +indifferent to personal discomfort as she was to all external sounds.</p> + +<p>Just as I had settled that my health would never survive such a wanton +infringement of all sanitary laws, Irene again sank on her knees and +buried her face in her hands. Now was my time. I crept noiselessly back +up the corridor until my hand was actually on the baize door. Then +excitement got the better of prudence; and, tearing it open, I rushed +wildly across the hall and up the staircase, never pausing until I was +safe in my own room, with the door locked behind me and the unlighted +bed-room candle still clutched firmly in my hand.</p> + + +<h4>II.</h4> + +<p>Now, having already mentioned that I am a person of regular and strictly +conventional habits, it will be readily believed that I viewed these +extraordinary proceedings with unmitigated disgust. It was not to +encounter horrid experiences like this that I had left my comfortable +town house, where draughts and midnight adventures were alike unknown. +Before I came down to breakfast on the following morning, I had +fabricated a long story about pressing business which necessitated my +immediate return to town. Though ordinarily of a truthful disposition, I +was prepared to solemnly aver that the success of an important lawsuit +depended on my presence in London within the next twelve hours. I did +not even shrink from the prospect of having to produce circumstantial +evidence to convince Maitland of the truth of my assertion. Anything +rather than undergo any further shocks to my nervous system.</p> + +<p>Happily I was spared the necessity of perjuring myself to this extent. +When the breakfast bell rang, I descended and found that as usual very +few of the guests, had obeyed the summons. Mrs. Maitland was pouring out +tea quite undisturbed by this irregularity, for Longacres is a house +where attendance at the meals is never compulsory.</p> + +<p>"And how have you slept?" she said, extending me a plump hand glittering +with rings. "We were afraid that perhaps you were a little overtired +last night, as you went off to bed in the middle of the singing. +Capital, wasn't it? Mr. Tucker is so very funny, and never in the least +vulgar with his jokes! Now some comic singers really forget that there +are girls in the room.—(Lily, my love, just go and see if your uncle is +coming down).—I assure you, Mr. Carew, I was staying in a country house +last year—mind, I give no names—where the songs were only fit for a +music-hall! It's perfectly true; even George said it made him feel quite +red to hear such things in a drawing-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span>room. But, as I was saying, Mr. +Tucker is so different; such genuine humour, you know!"</p> + +<p>It is impossible to conjecture how long my amiable hostess might have +rippled on in this strain if our conversation had not been interrupted +by the entry of Miss Latouche.</p> + +<p>"You have been introduced?" whispered Mrs. Maitland; and, without +waiting for an answer, she called out merrily: "My dear Irene, you must +positively come and entertain Mr. Carew. He will give up early rising if +he finds that it is always to mean a tête-à-tête with an old woman!"</p> + +<p>To my intense astonishment, Miss Latouche replied in the same jesting +tone, and taking the vacant seat next mine began at once to talk in the +most friendly way imaginable. Not a trace of eccentricity was +perceptible in her manner. She was merely a handsome girl, with a strong +vein of originality. I began to doubt the evidence of my senses. Surely +I must have been labouring under some hallucination the previous night. +It was almost easier to believe that I had been the dupe of a portentous +nightmare than that this charming girl should have enacted such a +strange part.</p> + +<p>Before the end of breakfast I was certain that I had taken a very +exaggerated view of the situation. It would be a pity to cut short a +pleasant visit and risk offending some of my oldest friends on such +purely fanciful grounds. Besides, I just remembered that I had given my +cook a holiday and that if I went home I should be dependent on the +culinary skill of a charwoman. This last consideration determined me. I +settled to stay.</p> + +<p>Nothing in Miss Latouche's behaviour led me to regret my decision. On +the contrary, at the end of a few days we were firm friends. The better +I knew her the greater became my admiration of her beauty and talents; +and, without vanity, I think I may say that she distinctly preferred me +to the other guests, who were mostly very ordinary types of modern young +men. The extraordinary impressions of the first evening had entirely +faded from my mind, when they were suddenly revived in all their +intensity by the following incident.</p> + +<p>It was a wet morning and we were all lolling about the billiard-room in +various stages of boredom. Some of the more energetic members of the +party had been out at dawn, cub hunting, and had returned wet through +just as we finished breakfast, in time to add their little quota of +grumbling to the general bulk of discontent. Mrs. Maitland, after making +a fruitless attempt to rally the spirits of the party, gave up the +effort in despair and retired to write letters in her room. Conversation +was carried on in fits and starts, whilst from time to time people +knocked about the billiard balls in a desultory fashion without +exhibiting even a show of interest in the result of the game.</p> + +<p>At last someone introduced the subject of fortune-telling. Instantly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> +there was a revival of interest. Everybody had some scrap of experience +to contribute, or some marvellous story to relate. Only Miss Latouche +remained silent.</p> + +<p>"What a pity none of us can tell fortunes!" cried Lily Wallace, eagerly. +"Won't anybody try? It's such fun, almost as amusing as turning tables, +and it often comes true in the most wonderful way!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, it does indeed!" sighed Mr. Tucker, with a countenance of +preternatural gravity. "A poor fellow I know was told that he would +marry and then die. Well, it's all coming true!"</p> + +<p>"Indeed! Really! How very shocking!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed! Poor chap! He married last year and now he has nothing but +death before him!"</p> + +<p>"How awfully sad!" exclaimed Lily, sympathetically. "Why, you are +smiling! Oh, you bad man. I do believe you were only laughing at me +after all! Now, Irene, will you please tell Mr. Tucker's fortune, and +show him that it is no joking matter? I am sure you know the way, +because I have seen a mysterious book about palmistry in your room. Now +do, there's a dear girl."</p> + +<p>After a little more pressing, Miss Latouche acceded to the general +request that she would show her skill. Several people pressed forward at +once to have their fortunes told, the men being quite as eager as the +girls, although they affected to laugh at the whole affair. I watched +the exhibition with some interest. Surely here would be a fair field for +the exercise of that wonderful dramatic power which I knew Miss Latouche +held in reserve. Well, I was disappointed. She examined the hands +submitted to her notice, and interpreted the lines with an amount of +conscientious commonplaceness for which I should never have given her +credit. The majority of the fortunes were composed of the conventional +mixture of illnesses and love affairs which is the stock-in-trade of +drawing-room magicians. I glanced at her face. Not a trace of enthusiasm +was visible. She was telling fortunes as mechanically as a cottager +knits stockings.</p> + +<p>"Now we have all been done except Mr. Carew! It's his turn!" cried Lily, +who was enjoying the whole thing immensely. "He must have his fortune +told! You will do him next, won't you, Irene?"</p> + +<p>"Never!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, why not? Are you tired? What a pity!"</p> + +<p>Miss Latouche took not the slightest notice of the chorus of +protestations. She merely turned away with such an air of inflexible +determination that even the ardent Lily refrained from pressing her any +further.</p> + +<p>My curiosity was considerably excited by finding myself an exception to +the general rule. Was the inference to be drawn from Miss Latouche's +behaviour flattering, or the reverse? I had no chance of finding out +until late in the afternoon, when the rain ceased and we all gladly +seized the opportunity of getting some exercise before dinner.</p><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p> + +<p>The different members of the party quickly dispersed in opposite +directions. A few exceptionally active young people tried to make up for +lost time by starting a game of tennis on the cinder courts. Some +diverged towards the stables, others took a brisk constitutional up and +down the gravel path. Under the pretence of lighting a cigar, I +contrived to wait about near the door until I saw Miss Latouche crossing +the hall. I remember thinking how wonderfully handsome she looked as she +came forward with a crimson shawl thrown over her head—for it was one +of her peculiarities never to wear a conventional hat or bonnet unless +absolutely obliged.</p> + +<p>"What do you say to going up the hill on the chance of seeing a fine +sunset?" I said, as she joined me. She nodded assent, and turning away +from the others, we began to climb a winding path, from the top of which +there was supposed to be a wonderful view. When we had gone about a +quarter of a mile, we stopped and looked round. Far out in front +stretched a beautiful valley lighted by gleams of fitful sunshine. The +house and garden lay at our feet, but so far below that we only +occasionally heard a faint echo from the tennis courts. The moment +seemed propitious.</p> + +<p>"Miss Latouche," I said abruptly, "I want to ask you something."</p> + +<p>No sooner were the words spoken than it struck me they were liable to be +misunderstood. She might imagine that I intended to make her an offer, +and accept me on the spot. Infinitely as I admired her in an abstract +fashion, I had never contemplated matrimony for a moment. Visions of +enraged male relatives armed with horse-whips, followed by a formidable +breach of promise case, flitted through my mind. There was no time to be +lost.</p> + +<p>"It's only about the fortune-telling," I stammered out; "nothing else, I +assure you—nothing at all!"</p> + +<p>"I knew it," replied Miss Latouche calmly and without a trace of +embarrassment.</p> + +<p>Sensible girl! I breathed freely once more and proceeded with my +investigations.</p> + +<p>"Why wouldn't you tell my fortune this morning? Why am I alone +excluded?"</p> + +<p>"Do you really wish to know?" she said very quietly.</p> + +<p>"Of course, or I shouldn't ask!"</p> + +<p>"Well then, the reason that I declined to tamper with <i>your</i> destiny is +that I should be irresistibly compelled to tell <i>you</i> the truth!"</p> + +<p>"Are you serious, or only—?"</p> + +<p>"Am I serious?" she cried, with a wild laugh; "<i>you</i> ask this? The time +has at last come for an explanation. I would willingly have spared you, +but it is in vain that we seek to avoid our fate! Rest here!" and +seizing my wrist, she dragged me down on the fallen trunk of a tree that +lay half hidden by the tall grass at the side of the path. Immediately +behind us was a gloomy wood, choked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> with rank autumnal growths. A more +dank, unwholesome situation for a seat on a wet day it would be +impossible to conceive. But I preferred running the risk of rheumatic +fever to contradicting Miss Latouche in her present mood. Only I hoped +the explanation would be exceedingly brief.</p> + +<p>"You pretend that you never saw me before the other evening?" she began, +feverishly.</p> + +<p>"Certainly!" I answered, with great astonishment. "It was undoubtedly +our first meeting. I am sure—"</p> + +<p>"Can you swear it?" she interrupted, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! I never swear! But I don't mind affirming," I said playfully, +hoping to give a less serious turn to the conversation.</p> + +<p>To my horror Miss Latouche wrung her hands with the same expression of +hopeless suffering that I had seen once before.</p> + +<p>"It is too cruel," she moaned, "after all this dreary waiting and +watching, to be met like this! Oh, my Beloved! I cannot bear it any +longer! Shall I never find you? Never! never!"</p> + +<p>Her voice died away with a sob of despair, which effectually quenched my +capacity for making jokes.</p> + +<p>"I hardly understand what you are alluding to," I said as nicely as I +could; "but if you will trust me, I promise to do anything that lies in +my power to help you."</p> + +<p>"You promise!" she exclaimed, eagerly. "Mind, you are bound now! Bound +to my service!"</p> + +<p>This was taking my polite offer of assistance rather more seriously than +I intended. Muttering some commonplace compliment, I begged to be +further enlightened.</p> + +<p>"You will not repeat to any living soul the mysteries I am about to +disclose?" she began. "No, I need not ask! There is already sufficient +sympathy between us for me to be sure of your discretion. But remember, +if you ever feel tempted to disclose a single word of these hidden +matters, there are Unseen Powers who will amply avenge the profanation. +Know, then, that since my Beloved was snatched from me by what dull men +call death, all my faculties have been concentrated on the effort to +discover some link of communication with the Invisible World. I will not +dwell on my toils and sufferings, the terrible sights I have braved and +the sleepless nights that I have sacrificed to study. I do not grudge my +youth, passed as it were under the shadow of the tomb, for at last the +truth has been revealed to me. <i>You</i> are to be the medium!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nonsense!" I shouted. "I won't undertake it! Nothing shall persuade +me! Besides, I am perfectly ignorant of the subject."</p> + +<p>"You underrate your powers," observed Miss Latouche with calm +conviction. "Nature has endowed you with a most unusual organisation. +Your powers are quite involuntary. Nothing you say or do can make the +slightest difference. You are merely a passive agent for the +transmission of electric force."</p><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Do you mean a sort of telegraph wire?" I gasped, feebly.</p> + +<p>"If you offer no resistance, all will be well with us," continued Miss +Latouche, ignoring the interruption; "but the Unseen Powers will bear no +trifling, and I can summon those to my aid who will make you bitterly +repent any levity!"</p> + +<p>I hate those sort of vague prophecies. They frighten one quite out of +proportion to their real gravity.</p> + +<p>"By the bye, I don't yet understand the reason you wouldn't tell my +fortune, as you seem to know such a lot about those things," I said at +last.</p> + +<p>"What! You do not understand yet that there is a bond between us which +makes any concealment impossible? I could not blind <i>you</i> with the +paltry fictions that satisfy those poor fools!" and she waved her hand +contemptuously towards the distant figures of the tennis players, +amongst whom Mr. Tucker, in a wonderful costume, was distinctly visible. +The expression struck me as unjustifiably strong, even when applied to a +man who sang comic songs with a banjo accompaniment.</p> + +<p>"I don't think he is a bad little chap," I said, apologetically.</p> + +<p>"They are all alike," she replied, with an air of ineffable scorn. "You +can only content them with idle promises of love and wealth, like the +ignorant village girl who crosses a gipsy's hand with silver and in +return is promised a rich husband. And all the while I see the dark +cloud hanging over them and can do nothing to avert it. Ah! it is +terrible to know the evil to come and be powerless to warn others! To be +obliged to smile whilst one's heart is wrung with anguish and one's +brain tortured with nameless apprehensions; that is indeed misery!"</p> + +<p>"Dear me!" I said, nervously; "I hope you don't foresee any catastrophe +about to overwhelm <i>me</i>?"</p> + +<p>She gazed straight into my eyes, and her passionate face gradually +softened into a lovely smile.</p> + +<p>"No, my only friend!" she exclaimed, taking my hand gently in hers; "so +far, no cloud darkens the perfect happiness of our intercourse!"</p> + +<p>I felt that there were moments of compensation even in the pursuit of +the Black Arts!</p> + + +<h4>III.</h4> + +<p>It was a curious sensation, mixing again with the commonplace +pleasure-seekers at Longacres, conscious that I was the repository of +such extraordinary revelations. For, before we left our damp retreat, +Irene had confided in me the secret history of her life. Not that I +understood it very clearly, owing to her voice being continually choked +by stifled emotion. But I gathered that a person, presumably of the male +sex, who was vaguely designated as the Beloved, had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> perished in some +frightful manner before her eyes, and ever since that time she had +devoted herself to the study of the occult sciences in the firm +conviction that it was possible to discover a medium of communication +with the Unseen World. She now persisted that I had been designated by +unerring proofs as that medium. She assured me that, months previously, +she had foreseen my arrival at Longacres in the precise fashion in which +it really took place.</p> + +<p>"Every detail," she said, "was exactly foreshadowed in the vision. Not +only did I recognise you at once by your clothes (which were different +from those of the other men present), but your voice seemed familiar to +me, as if I had known you for years. I saw you gazing at me with what I +fondly believed to be a look of mutual recognition. I remember rising +from my seat in a species of ecstatic trance to which I am liable in +moments of excitement. I have a faint recollection of addressing you +with an impassioned appeal for help, to which you responded with icy +indifference, but the rest of our interview remains a blank. Only there +was a cruel sense of disappointment: instead of meeting as two spirits +whose interests were inseparable, you denied any previous knowledge of +me, and even manifested a sort of terrified aversion at my approach. I +saw you shrink away from my side; then nothing remained for me but to +temporarily dissemble my purpose and try first to win your confidence by +the exercise of my poor woman's wits. In this at least I was +successful!"</p> + +<p>Irene only spoke the truth. She had completely subdued my will by her +fascinations, and though I hated and, in private, ridiculed all +supernatural dealings, I was prepared to try the wildest experiments at +her bidding.</p> + +<p>The trial of my obedience arrived sooner than I anticipated. Immediately +after luncheon next day Irene made a sign to me to follow her into the +garden.</p> + +<p>"All is ready!" she exclaimed, with great excitement. "To-night will see +us successful or for ever lost!"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" I inquired, dubiously; for it did not sound a very +cheery prospect.</p> + +<p>"I mean that all things point to a hasty solution of the great problem. +To-night the planets are propitious, and with your help the chain of +communication will be at last complete. Oh, my Beloved! my toil and +waiting has not been all in vain!"</p> + +<p>"Well, what do you want me to do?" I said, rather sulkily. "Mind, it +mustn't be this evening, because Mrs. Maitland has a lot of people +coming to dinner, and we can't possibly leave the drawing-room."</p> + +<p>"The crisis will be at midnight in the ruined chapel," observed Irene, +as if she were stating the most ordinary fact; "but you must meet me an +hour before to make all sure."</p> + +<p>"Preposterous!" I exclaimed; "it's quite out of the question.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> Wander +about the garden at midnight indeed! What would people say if they saw +us?"</p> + +<p>"Do you imagine that I allow myself to be influenced by the opinion of +poor-spirited fools?" inquired Irene with fine scorn. And then, suddenly +changing her tactics, she sobbed and prayed me to grant her this one +boon—it might be the last thing she would ever ask.</p> + +<p>Well, she was very handsome, and I am but human. Before she left me I +had promised to do what she wished.</p> + +<p>It may be imagined that I passed a miserable day, distracted by a +thousand gloomy apprehensions which increased as the fatal hour +approached. I have mentioned that there was to be a dinner party that +evening.</p> + +<p>"A lot of country neighbours," as Maitland explained. "They like a big +feed from time to time. I put out the old port and my wife wears her +smartest dress and all the diamonds. It is quite a fuss to persuade her +to put them on, she is so nervous about them being lost! She always +insists on my locking them up in the safe again before I go to bed. Of +course I don't contradict her, but half the time I leave them on my +dressing-room table till next morning. Ha! ha! It is always best to +humour ladies, even when they are a trifle unreasonable."</p> + +<p>It is one of Maitland's little foibles that he never can resist drawing +attention to the family diamonds (which are remarkably fine) by some +passing allusion of this sort.</p> + +<p>Nothing of any interest happened during dinner. When it was at last +terminated we retired to the drawing-room, and listened with great +decorum to several pieces of music. Miss Latouche was pressed to perform +upon the harp, which she did with her usual melancholy grace. To-night +she was in a rich white robe, which enhanced the peculiarly dusky effect +of her olive skin and masses of dark hair. Her face was very pale; and, +to my surprise, shortly after playing she complained of a bad headache +and went off to bed. I hardly knew what to think. Had her courage failed +her at the last, and, when it came to the point, did she shrink from +braving the opinion of the world which she affected so thoroughly to +despise?</p> + +<p>"So, after all her boasting, she is no bolder than the rest of us!" I +thought, with intense relief, as I wandered across the hall to join the +other men in the smoking-room. The last guest had departed, and very +soon the whole house would be at rest for the night. "How I shall laugh +at her to-morrow!" I muttered. "Never again will she impose—"</p> + +<p>My meditations were interrupted by an icy touch on my wrist. Turning, I +saw Irene by my side, with a dark cloak thrown over her evening dress. +Without speaking a word she drew me towards a side door into the garden, +which was seldom used, and, producing a key from her pocket, opened it +noiselessly.</p><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p> + +<p>"We can't go out at this time of night!" I gasped, making a faint effort +to break loose. "I haven't even a hat! It's really past a joke!"</p> + +<p>"Remember your promise!" she whispered, in a voice of such awful menace +that, feeling all resistance was useless, I followed her out into the +darkness. At that moment a sudden gust of wind slammed the door.</p> + +<p>"<i>Now</i> what shall we do!" I exclaimed. "There is no handle and the key +is inside!"</p> + +<p>"Hush!" she whispered. "No more of these trivialities! I tell you the +Spirits are abroad to-night; the air is thick with unseen forms. Obey me +in silence, or you are lost."</p> + +<p>Speechless with annoyance, my teeth chattering with cold and general +creepiness, I followed her through the shrubberies until we reached the +site of a ruined chapel, which had originally joined on to the old wing +of the house. Of this building little remained except portions of the +outer walls, overgrown with ivy. The pavement had long since +disappeared, and was replaced by a rank growth of grass and weeds, +amongst which lay scattered such monumental remains as had survived the +general destruction. Only one window of the house happened to look out +in this direction. I could see a light shining through the blind, and, +with a touch, drew Irene's attention to it.</p> + +<p>"Do not alarm yourself with vain fears," she whispered; "it is only Mr. +Maitland's dressing-room. All will be quiet soon!" As she spoke, the +light was suddenly extinguished.</p> + +<p>Only then did I realise the full horrors of my position. When that +bed-room candle went out, the last link which bound me to civilization +seemed to have snapped. I was at the mercy of an enthusiast who had +broken loose from all those conventional trammels which I hold in such +respect. Although I had the greatest admiration for Irene, nothing would +have surprised me less than if my murdered remains had been found next +morning half hidden in the dank grass of the ruined chapel.</p> + +<p>We were standing in the deep shadow of the old wall. The silence was +intense. Indeed, after Irene's injunctions, I hardly dared breathe for +fear of drawing down some misfortune on my devoted head. Not that I +quite believed anything was going to happen, only it was best to be on +the safe side. Suddenly the stillness was broken by the distant sound of +the stable clock striking twelve.</p> + +<p>"It has come!" whispered Irene, stooping towards me with an expression +of the utmost anxiety. "Now you must obey me absolutely, or we shall +both incur the wrath of the Unseen Powers. No wavering! We have gone too +far to recede! First, to establish the electric current between us, you +must hold me firmly by the wrist and pass your hand slowly up and down +my arm, repeating these words after me."</p><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p> + +<p>I hesitated. The proceeding struck me as extraordinary.</p> + +<p>"Will you imperil us both?" muttered Irene, in such a tone of agony that +I seized her arm and began to rub for my life. I remember noticing that +it was as cold and white as the arm of a marble statue. Meanwhile Irene +repeated an invocation, apparently in the same language in which she had +addressed me at our first meeting, and I imitated her to the best of my +ability.</p> + +<p>After this had been going on a few minutes, she inquired in a whisper if +I felt anything unusual. I considered that my sensations were quite +sufficiently peculiar to justify my replying in the affirmative. She +appeared satisfied.</p> + +<p>"All will be well, my friend," she murmured, sinking down with an air of +exhaustion on the lid of an ancient stone coffin that lay half overgrown +with ivy at our feet. "The danger will be averted if you act with +courage; only keep your hold on my hand and the Unseen Influences have +no power to hurt us! Now drink this." With these words she offered me a +small bottle of a dull blue colour and very curious shape.</p> + +<p>I examined the little flask suspiciously. I had a hazy impression that I +had once seen something like it in the British Museum.</p> + +<p>"Never can I reveal by what means I procured this invaluable treasure +and the precious fluid that it contains," replied Irene in answer to my +inquisitive glance. "Suffice it to say that for countless ages they lay +concealed in the cerements of a mummy."</p> + +<p>That settled me. I instantly resolved that no power on earth should +induce me to taste the nasty mess. A bright thought occurred to me—I +would base my refusal upon grounds which even Irene could scarcely +combat.</p> + +<p>"I am dreadfully sorry," I whispered, "but it upsets me to drink +anything except water; in fact I can't do it, the consequences would be +too horrible! I need not particularise, but literally I couldn't keep it +down a minute. So it seems hardly worth while to risk wasting this +valuable fluid."</p> + +<p>"And am I to be baffled at this hour by Human Weakness!" cried Irene, +stamping with suppressed rage. "It shall not be! Ha! I have it! The +odour alone may be sufficiently powerful to work our purpose." And +uncorking the bottle, she held it towards me.</p> + +<p>The smell was pungent but not disagreeable.</p> + +<p>"Now all is completed," she said, when I had inhaled a few whiffs. "You +have only to gaze before you, and wish with all the force of your will +that my Beloved may appear."</p> + +<p>We stood perfectly still, hand clasped in hand. Irene had risen from her +grim seat, and was leaning against me for support. Her cloak had fallen +off, and I thought that she looked like a beautiful spirit herself +against the dark background of ivy. In obedience to her orders, I fixed +my eyes on space and tried to wish.</p> + +<p>Hardly had I begun, when a figure emerged from behind the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> opposite wall +and glided slowly across the chapel towards us. I was so amazed that I +could hardly believe the evidence of my senses. As for Irene, she only +smiled with ineffable bliss, as if it were exactly what she had expected +all along.</p> + +<p>It was rather a cloudy night, so that I had great difficulty in +following the movements of the mysterious figure. When it gained the +centre of the chapel it paused, and then slowly turned towards the wall +of the house. As far as I could see, it was making some wild motion with +its upraised arms, whether of benediction or menace it was impossible to +discern at that distance; but I could not shake off a horrid impression +that it was cursing the slumbering inmates. And then, wonderful to +relate, whilst my eyes were fixed upon the dark figure, it began slowly +to rise into the air!</p> + +<p>At this portentous sight, I don't mind confessing that my hair fairly +bristled with horror. Fortunately for the preservation of my reason, at +that instant the moon, gleaming from behind a cloud, revealed a long +ladder planted against Mr. Maitland's dressing-room window.</p> + +<p>In a moment I recovered my self-possession.</p> + +<p>"Stay still—I am going to leave you for a short time," I whispered.</p> + +<p>Irene clung to me with both hands, and expressed a fear that the +outraged spirits would tear us in pieces if we moved.</p> + +<p>"Bother the spirits!" I replied, in a gruff whisper. "I swear it will be +the worse for you if you make a fuss now!"</p> + +<p>She sobbed and wrung her hands, but the time was past for that to have +any effect upon me, and, disengaging myself from her grasp, I crept +away, hiding as well as I could behind the scattered ruins.</p> + +<p>In this manner I contrived almost to reach the foot of the ladder +without being discovered. I had a strange fancy for capturing the thief +single-handed and monopolising all the glory of saving the famous +diamonds. Waiting patiently until he had just reached the window, I +rushed forward and seized the ladder.</p> + +<p>"It's no use resisting," I shouted; "if you don't give up quietly, I'll +shake."</p> + +<p>At this point a second figure stepped out from behind a laurel bush and +effectually silenced any further threats by dealing me a heavy blow on +the head.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>For days I lay insensible from concussion of the brain. When I was at +last pronounced convalescent, Maitland was admitted to my room, being +bound by solemn promises not to excite me in any way. With heartfelt +gratitude he shook my hand and thanked me for saving the family +diamonds.</p> + +<p>"I shall take better care of them in the future," he said. "Catch me +leaving them about in my dressing-room again. No, they shall always go +straight back into the safe. Mrs. Maitland was right about that, though +it wouldn't do to confess it. Precious lucky for me that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> you heard the +burglars and ran out; though I wouldn't advise you to try and tackle two +muscular ruffians by yourself another time. It was just a chance that +one broke his leg when you pulled down the ladder, otherwise they would +have finished you off before we arrived on the scene."</p> + +<p>I may here remark that I never thought it necessary to correct the +version of the story which I found was already generally accepted. To +this day Maitland firmly believes that I was just getting into bed, +when, with supernatural acuteness, I divined the presence of robbers +under his dressing-room window, and creeping quietly out attacked them +in the rear.</p> + +<p>"By-the-bye, is Miss Latouche still staying here?" I presently inquired +in as calm a voice as I could command.</p> + +<p>"No, she left suddenly the day after your accident. She complained of +feeling upset by the affair, and wished to go home. We did not press her +to stay, as she is liable to nervous attacks which are rather alarming. +Why, that very night, curiously enough, I met her evidently walking in +her sleep down the passage as I rushed out at your shout. She passed +quite close to me without making any sign, and was quite unconscious of +it next day—in fact referred with some surprise to having slept all +through the row."</p> + +<p>"Has she always had these peculiar ways?" I asked with interest.</p> + +<p>"Well, I always thought her an imaginative, fanciful sort of girl, but +she has certainly been much worse since that poor fellow's death. What, +you never heard the story? It was at a picnic, and she insisted upon his +climbing some rocks to get her a certain flower, just for the sake of +giving trouble, as girls do. The poor lad's foot slipped, and he rolled +right over a precipice and was dashed to pieces. Of course it was a +shocking thing, but it's a pity she became so morbid about it, as no +real blame attached to her. Now I must not talk too much or the doctor +will say I have tired you; so good-bye for the present."</p> + +<p>And that was the last I heard of Irene Latouche.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/01de.jpg" + alt="Decorative" + title="Decorative" /> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Argosy, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ARGOSY *** + +***** This file should be named 17051-h.htm or 17051-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/0/5/17051/ + +Produced by Paul Murray, Taavi Kalju, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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 Argosy + Vol. 51, No. 1, January, 1891 + +Author: Various + +Editor: Charles W. Wood + +Release Date: November 11, 2005 [EBook #17051] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ARGOSY *** + + + + +Produced by Paul Murray, Taavi Kalju, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + _"Laden with Golden Grain"_ + + * * * * * + + THE + ARGOSY. + + + EDITED BY + CHARLES W. WOOD. + + * * * * * + + + VOLUME LI. + + _January to June, 1891._ + + * * * * * + + + RICHARD BENTLEY & SON, + 8, NEW BURLINGTON STREET, LONDON, W. + + Publishers in Ordinary to Her Majesty. + + _All rights reserved._ + + + LONDON: + PRINTED BY OGDEN, SMALE AND CO. LIMITED, + GREAT SAFFRON HILL, E.C. + + + + +_CONTENTS._ + + +THE FATE OF THE HARA DIAMOND. Illustrated by M.L. GOW. + + Chap. I. My Arrival at Deepley Walls Jan + II. The Mistress of Deepley Walls Jan + III. A Voyage of Discovery Jan + IV. Scarsdale Weir Jan + V. At Rose Cottage Feb + VI. The Growth of a Mystery Feb + VII. Exit Janet Hope Feb + VIII. By the Scotch Express Feb + IX. At "The Golden Griffin" Mar + X. The Stolen Manuscript Mar + XI. Bon Repos Mar + XII. The Amsterdam Edition of 1698 Mar + XIII. M. Platzoff's Secret--Captain Ducie's Translation of + M. Paul Platzoff's MS Mar + XIV. Drashkil-Smoking Apr + XV. The Diamond Apr + XVI. Janet's Return Apr + XVII. Deepley Walls after Seven Years Apr + XVIII. Janet in a New Character May + XIX. The Dawn of Love May + XX. The Narrative of Sergeant Nicholas May + XXI. Counsel taken with Mr. Madgin May + XXII. Mr. Madgin at the Helm Jun + XXIII. Mr. Madgin's Secret Journey Jun + XXIV. Enter Madgin Junior Jun + XXV. Madgin Junior's First Report Jun + + * * * * * + +THE SILENT CHIMES. By JOHNNY LUDLOW (Mrs. HENRY WOOD). + + Putting Them Up Jan + Playing Again Feb + Ringing at Midday Mar + Not Heard Apr + Silent for Ever May + + * * * * * + +THE BRETONS AT HOME. By CHARLES W. WOOD, F.R.G.S. With + 35 Illustrations Jan, Feb, Mar, Apr, May, Jun + + * * * * * + +About the Weather Jun +Across the River. By HELEN M. BURNSIDE Apr +After Twenty Years. By ADA M. TROTTER Feb +A Memory. By GEORGE COTTERELL Feb +A Modern Witch Jan +An April Folly. By GILBERT H. PAGE Apr +A Philanthropist. By ANGUS GREY Jun +Aunt Phoebe's Heirlooms: An Experience in Hypnotism Feb +A Social Debut Mar +A Song. By G.B. STUART Jan +Enlightenment. By E. NESBIT Feb +In a Bernese Valley. By ALEXANDER LAMONT Feb +Legend of an Ancient Minster. By JOHN GRAEME Mar +Longevity. By W.F. AINSWORTH, F.S.A. Apr +Mademoiselle Elise. By EDWARD FRANCIS Jun +Mediums and Mysteries. By NARISSA ROSAVO Feb +Miss Kate Marsden Jan +My May Queen. By JOHN JERVIS BERESFORD, M.A. May +Old China Jun +On Letter-Writing. By A.H. JAPP, LL.D. May +Paul. By the Author of "Adonais, Q.C." May +"Proctorised" Apr +Rondeau. By E. NESBIT Mar +Saint or Satan? By A. BERESFORD Feb +Sappho. By MARY GREY Mar +Serenade. By E. NESBIT Jun +Sonnets. By JULIA KAVANAGH Jan, Feb, Apr, Jun +So Very Unattractive! Jun +Spes. By JOHN JERVIS BERESFORD, M.A. Apr +Sweet Nancy. By JEANIE GWYNNE BETTANY May +The Church Garden. By CHRISTIAN BURKE May +The Only Son of his Mother. By LETITIA MCCLINTOCK Mar +To my Soul. From the French of Victor Hugo Jun +Unexplained. By LETITIA MCCLINTOCK Apr +Who Was the Third Maid? Jan +Winter in Absence Feb + + * * * * * + +_POETRY._ + +Sonnets. By JULIA KAVANAGH Jan, Feb, Apr, Jun +A Song. By G.B. STUART Jan +Enlightenment. By E. NESBIT Feb +Winter in Absence Feb +A Memory. By GEORGE COTTERELL Feb +In a Bernese Valley. By ALEXANDER LAMONT Feb +Rondeau. By E. NESBIT Mar +Spes. By JOHN JERVIS BERESFORD, M.A. Apr +Across the River. By HELEN M. BURNSIDE Apr +My May Queen. By JOHN JERVIS BERESFORD, M.A. May +The Church Garden. By CHRISTIAN BURKE May +Serenade. By E. NESBIT Jun +To my Soul. From the French of Victor Hugo Jun +Old China Jun + + * * * * * + +_ILLUSTRATIONS._ + +By M.L. Gow. + + "I advanced slowly up the room, stopped, and curtsied." + + "I saw and recognised the mysterious midnight visitor." + + "He came back in a few minutes, but so transformed in outward + appearance that Ducie scarcely knew him." + + "Behold!" + + "Sister Agnes knelt for a few moments and bent her head in silent + prayer." + + "He put his hand to his side, and motioned Mirpah to open the letter." + + * * * * * + +Illustrations to "The Bretons at Home." + + + + +[Illustration: I ADVANCED SLOWLY UP THE ROOM, STOPPED AND +CURTSIED. + +Page 31.] + + + + +THE ARGOSY. + +_JANUARY, 1891._ + + + + +THE SILENT CHIMES. + +PUTTING THEM UP. + + +I hardly know whether to write this history, or not; for its events did +not occur within my own recollection, and I can only relate them at +second-hand--from the Squire and others. They are curious enough; +especially as regards the three parsons--one following upon another--in +their connection with the Monk family, causing no end of talk in Church +Leet parish, as well as in other parishes within ear-shot. + +About three miles' distance from Church Dykely, going northwards across +country, was the rural parish of Church Leet. It contained a few +farmhouses and some labourers' cottages. The church, built of grey +stone, stood in its large grave-yard; the parsonage, a commodious house, +was close by; both of them were covered with time-worn ivy. Nearly half +a mile off, on a gentle eminence, rose the handsome mansion called Leet +Hall, the abode of the Monk family. Nearly the whole of the +parish--land, houses, church and all--belonged to them. At the time I am +about to tell of they were the property of one man--Godfrey Monk. + +The late owner of the place (except for one short twelvemonth) was old +James Monk, Godfrey's father. Old James had three sons and one +daughter--Emma--his wife dying early. The eldest son (mostly styled +"young James") was about as wild a blade as ever figured in story; the +second son, Raymond, was an invalid; the third, Godfrey, a reckless lad, +ran away to sea when he was fourteen. + +If the Monks were celebrated for one estimable quality more than +another, it was temper: a cross-grained, imperious, obstinate temper. +"Run away to sea, has he?" cried old James when he heard the news; "very +well, at sea he shall stop." And at sea Godfrey did stop, not disliking +the life, and perhaps not finding any other open to him. He worked his +way up in the merchant service by degrees, until he became commander and +was called Captain Monk. + +The years went on. Young James died, and the other two sons grew to be +middle-aged men. Old James, the father, found by signs and tokens that +his own time was approaching; and he was the next to go. Save for a +slender income bequeathed to Godfrey and to his daughter, the whole of +the property was left to Raymond, and to Godfrey after him if Raymond +had no son. The entail had been cut off in the past generation; for +which act the reasons do not concern us. + +So Raymond, ailing greatly always, entered into possession of his +inheritance. He lived about a twelvemonth afterwards, and then died: +died unmarried. Therefore Godfrey came into all. + +People were curious, the Squire says, as to what sort of man Godfrey +would turn out to be; for he had not troubled home much since he ran +away. He was a widower; that much was known; his wife having been a +native of Trinidad, in the West Indies. + +A handsome man, with fair, curling hair (what was left of it); proud +blue eyes; well-formed features with a chronic flush upon them, for he +liked his glass, and took it; a commanding, imperious manner, and a +temper uncompromising as the grave. Such was Captain Godfrey Monk; now +in his forty-fifth year. Upon his arrival at Leet Hall after landing, +with his children and one or two dusky attendants in their train, he was +received by his sister Emma, Mrs. Carradyne. Major Carradyne had died +fighting in India, and his wife, at the request of her brother Raymond, +came then to live at Leet Hall. Not of necessity, for Mrs. Carradyne was +well off and could have made her home where she pleased, but Raymond had +liked to have her. Godfrey also expressed his pleasure that she should +remain; she could act as mother to his children. + +Godfrey's children were three: Katherine, aged seventeen; Hubert, aged +ten; and Eliza, aged eight. The girls had their father's handsome +features, but in their skin there ran a dusky tinge, hinting of other +than pure Saxon blood; and they were every whit as haughtily self-willed +as he was. The boy, Hubert, was extremely pretty, his face fair, his +complexion delicately beautiful, his auburn hair bright, his manner +winning; but he liked to exercise his own will, and appeared to have +generally done it. + +A day or two, and Mrs. Carradyne sat down aghast. "I never saw children +so troublesome and self-willed in all my life, Godfrey," she said to her +brother. "Have they ever been controlled at all?" + +"Had their own way pretty much, I expect," answered the Captain. "I was +not often at home, you know, and there's nobody else they'd obey." + +"Well, Godfrey, if I am to remain here, you will have to help me manage +them." + +"That's as may be, Emma. When I deem it necessary to speak, I speak; +otherwise I don't interfere. And you must not get into the habit of +appealing to me, recollect." + +Captain Monk's conversation was sometimes interspersed with sundry light +words, not at all orthodox, and not necessarily delivered in anger. In +those past days swearing was regarded as a gentleman's accomplishment; a +sailor, it was believed, could not at all get along without it. Manners +change. The present age prides itself upon its politeness: but what of +its sincerity? + +Mrs. Carradyne, mild and gentle, commenced her task of striving to tame +her brother's rebellious children. She might as well have let it alone. +The girls laughed at her one minute and set her at defiance the next. +Hubert, who had good feeling, was more obedient; he did not openly defy +her. At times, when her task pressed heavily upon her spirits, Mrs. +Carradyne felt tempted to run away from Leet Hall, as Godfrey had run +from it in the days gone by. Her own two children were frightened at +their cousins, and she speedily sent both to school, lest they should +catch their bad manners. Henry was ten, the age of Hubert; Lucy was +between five and six. + +Just before the death of Raymond Monk, the living of Church Leet became +vacant, and the last act of his life was to present it to a worthy young +clergyman named George West. This caused intense dissatisfaction to +Godfrey. He had heard of the late incumbent's death, and when he arrived +home and found the living filled up he proclaimed his anger loudly, +lavishing abuse upon poor dead Raymond for his precipitancy. He had +wanted to bestow it upon a friend of his, a Colonial chaplain, and had +promised it to him. It was a checkmate there was no help for now, for +Mr. West could not be turned out again; but Captain Monk was not +accustomed to be checkmated, and resented it accordingly. He took up, +for no other reason, a most inveterate dislike to George West, and +showed it practically. + +In every step the Vicar took, at every turn and thought, he found +himself opposed by Captain Monk. Had he a suggestion to make for the +welfare of the parish, his patron ridiculed it; did he venture to +propose some wise measure at a vestry meeting, the Captain put him and +his measure down. Not civilly either, but with a stinging contempt, +semi-covert though it was, that made its impression on the farmers +around. The Reverend George West was a man of humility, given to much +self-disparagement, so he bore all in silence and hoped for better +times. + + * * * * * + +The time went on; three years of it; Captain Monk had fully settled down +in his ancestral home, and the neighbours had learnt what a domineering, +self-willed man he was. But he had his virtues. He was kind in a general +way, generous where it pleased him to be, inordinately attached to his +children, and hospitable to a fault. + +On the last day of every year, as the years came round, Captain Monk, +following his late father's custom, gave a grand dinner to his tenants; +and a very good custom it would have been, but that he and they got +rather too jolly. The parson was always invited--and went; and sometimes +a few of Captain Monk's personal friends were added. + +Christmas came round this year as usual, and the invitations to the +dinner went out. One came to Squire Todhetley, a youngish man then, and +one to my father, William Ludlow, who was younger than the Squire. It +was a green Christmas; the weather so warm and genial that the hearty +farmers, flocking to Leet Hall, declared they saw signs of buds +sprouting in the hedges, whilst the large fire in the Captain's +dining-room was quite oppressive. + +Looking from the window of the parsonage sitting-room in the twilight, +while drawing on his gloves, preparatory to setting forth, stood Mr. +West. His wife was bending over an easy-chair, in which their only +child, little Alice, lay back, covered up. Her breathing was quick, her +skin parched with fever. The wife looked sickly herself. + +"Well, I suppose it is time to go," observed Mr. West, slowly. "I shall +be late if I don't." + +"I rather wonder you go at all, George," returned his wife. "Year after +year, when you come back from this dinner, you invariably say you will +not go to another." + +"I know it, Mary. I dislike the drinking that goes on--and the free +conversation--and the objectionable songs; I feel out of place in it +all." + +"And the Captain's contemptuous treatment of yourself, you might add." + +"Yes, that is another unwelcome item in the evening's programme." + +"Then, George, why _do_ you go?" + +"Well, I think you know why. I do not like to refuse the invitation; it +would only increase Captain Monk's animosity and widen still further the +breach between us. As patron he holds so much in his power. Besides +that, my presence at the table does act, I believe, as a mild restraint +on some of them, keeping the drinking and the language somewhat within +bounds. Yes, I suppose my duty lies in going. But I shall not stay late, +Mary," added the parson, bending to look at the suffering child; "and if +you see any real necessity for the doctor to be called in to-night, I +will go for him." + +"Dood-bye, pa-pa," lisped the little four-year-old maiden. + +He kissed the little hot face, said adieu to his wife and went out, +hoping that the child would recover without the doctor; for the living +of Church Leet was but a poor one, though the parsonage house was so +handsome. It was a hundred-and-sixty pounds a year, for which sum the +tithes had been compounded, and Mr. West had not much money to spare +for superfluities--especially as he had to substantially help his +mother. + +The twilight had deepened almost to night, and the lights in the mansion +seemed to smile a cheerful welcome as he approached it. The pillared +entrance, ascended to by broad steps, stood in the middle, and a raised +terrace of stone ran along before the windows on either side. It was +quite true that every year at the conclusion of these feasts, the Vicar +resolved never to attend another; but he was essentially a man of peace, +striving ever to lay oil upon troubled waters, after the example left by +his Master. + +Dinner. The board was full. Captain Monk presided, genial to-day; genial +even to the parson. Squire Todhetley faced the Captain at the foot; Mr. +West sat at the Squire's right hand, between him and Farmer Threpp, a +quiet man and supposed to be a very substantial one. All went on +pleasantly; but when the elaborate dinner gave place to dessert and +wine-drinking, the company became rather noisy. + +"I think it's about time you left us," cried the Squire by-and-by to +young Hubert, who sat next him on the other side: and over and over +again Mr. Todhetley has repeated to us in later years the very words +that passed. + +"By George, yes!" put in a bluff and hearty fox-hunter, the master of +the hounds, bending forward to look at the lad, for he was in a line +with him, and breaking short off an anecdote he was regaling the company +with. "I forgot you were there, Master Hubert. Quite time you went to +bed." + +"I daresay!" laughed the boy. "Please let me alone, all of you. I don't +want attention drawn to me." + +But the slight commotion had attracted Captain Monk's notice. He saw his +son. + +"What's that?--Hubert! What brings you there now, you young pirate? I +ordered you to go out with the cloth." + +"I am not doing any harm, papa," said the boy, turning his fair and +beautiful face towards his father. + +Captain Monk pointed his stern finger at the door; a mandate which +Hubert dared not disobey, and he went out. + +The company sat on, an interminable period of time it seemed to the +Vicar. He glanced stealthily at his watch. Eleven o'clock. + +"Thinking of going, Parson?" said Mr. Threpp. "I'll go with you. My +head's not one of the strongest, and I've had about as much as I ought +to carry." + +They rose quietly, not to disturb the table; intending to steal away, if +possible, without being observed. Unluckily, Captain Monk chanced to be +looking that way. + +"Halloa! who's turning sneak?--Not you, surely, Parson!--" in a +meaningly contemptuous tone. "And _you_, Threpp, of all men! Sit down +again, both of you, if you don't want to quarrel with me. Odds fish! +has my dining-room got sharks in it, that you'd run away? Winter, just +lock the door, will you; you are close to it; and pass up the key to +me." + +Mr. Winter, a jovial old man and the largest tenant on the estate, rose +to do the Captain's behest, and sent up the key. + +"Nobody quits my room," said the host, as he took it, "until we have +seen the old year out and the new one in. What else do you come for--eh, +gentlemen?" + +The revelry went on. The decanters circulated more quickly, the glasses +clicked, the songs became louder, the Captain's sea stories broader. Mr. +West perforce made the best of the situation, certain words of Holy Writ +running through his memory: + +"_Look not thou upon the wine when it is red, when it giveth its colour +in the cup, when it moveth itself aright!_" + +Well, more than well, for Captain Monk, that he had not looked upon the +red wine that night! + +In the midst of all this, the hall clock began to strike twelve. The +Captain rose, after filling his glass to the brim. + +"Bumpers round, gentlemen. On your legs. Ready? Hooray! Here's to the +shade of the year that's gone, and may it have buried all our cares with +it! And here's good luck to the one setting-in. A happy New Year to you +all; and may we never know a moment in it worse than the present! +Three-times-three--and drain your glasses." + +"But we have had the toast too soon!" called out one of the farmers, +making the discovery close after the cheers had subsided. "It wants some +minutes yet to midnight, Captain." + +Captain Monk snatched out his watch--worn in those days in what was +called the fob-pocket--its chain and bunch of seals at the end hanging +down. + +"By Jupiter!" he exclaimed. "Hang that butler of mine! He knew the hall +clock was too fast, and I told him to put it back. If his memory serves +him no better than this, he may ship himself off to a fresh +berth.--Hark! Listen!" + +It was the church clock striking twelve. The sound reached the +dining-room very clearly, the wind setting that way. "Another bumper," +cried the Captain, and his guests drank it. + +"This day twelvemonth I was at a feast in Derbyshire; the bells of a +neighbouring church rang-in the year with pleasant melody; chimes they +were," remarked a guest, who was a partial stranger. "Your church has no +bells, I suppose?" + +"It has one; an old ting-tang that calls us to service on a Sunday," +said Mr. Winter. + +"I like to hear those midnight chimes, for my part. I like to hear them +chime-in the new year," went on the stranger. + +"Chimes!" cried out Captain Monk, who was getting very considerably +elated, "why should we not have chimes? Mr. West, why don't we have +chimes?" + +"Our church does not possess any, sir--as this gentleman has just +remarked," was Mr. West's answer. + +"Egad, but that parson of ours is going to set us all ablaze with his +wit!" jerked out the Captain ironically. "I asked, sir, why we should +not get a set of chimes; I did not say we had got them. Is there any +just cause or impediment why we should not, Mr. Vicar?" + +"Only the expense," replied the Vicar, in a conciliatory tone. + +"Oh, bother expense! That's what you are always wanting to groan over. +Mr. Churchwarden Threpp, we will call a vestry meeting and make a rate." + +"The parish could not bear it, Captain Monk," remonstrated the +clergyman. "You know what dissatisfaction was caused by the last extra +rate put on, and how low an ebb things are at just now." + +"When I will a thing, I do it," retorted the Captain, with a meaning +word or two. "We'll send out the rate and we'll get the chimes." + +"It will, I fear, lie in my duty to protest against it," spoke the +uneasy parson. + +"It may lie in your duty to be a wet-blanket, but you won't protest me +out of my will. Gentlemen, we will all meet here again this time +twelvemonth, when the chimes shall ring-in the new year for you.--Here, +Dutton, you can unlock the door now," concluded the Captain, handing the +key to the other churchwarden. "Our parson is upon thorns to be away +from us." + +Not the parson only, but several others availed themselves of the +opportunity to escape. + + +II. + +It perhaps did not surprise the parish to find that its owner and +master, Captain Monk, intended to persist in his resolution of +embellishing the church-tower with a set of chiming-bells. They knew him +too well to hope anything less. Why! two years ago, at the same annual +feast, some remarks or other at table put it into his head to declare he +would stop up the public path by the Rill; and his obstinate will +carried it out, regardless of the inconvenience it caused. + +A vestry meeting was called, and the rate (to obtain funds for the +bells) was at length passed. Two or three voices were feebly lifted in +opposition; Mr. West alone had courage to speak out; but the Captain put +him down with his strong hand. It may be asked why Captain Monk did not +provide the funds himself for this whim. But he would never touch his +own pocket for the benefit of the parish if he could help it: and it was +thought that his antagonism to the parson was the deterring motive. + +To impose the rate was one thing, to collect it quite another. Some of +the poorer ratepayers protested with tears in their eyes that they could +not pay. Superfluous rates (really not necessary ones) were perpetually +being inflicted upon them, they urged, and were bringing them, together +with a succession of recent bad seasons, to the verge of ruin. They +carried their remonstrances to their Vicar, and he in turn carried them +to Captain Monk. + +It only widened the breach. The more persistently, though gently, Mr. +West pleaded the cause of his parishioners, asking the Captain to be +considerate to them for humanity's sake, the greater grew the other's +obstinacy in holding to his own will. To be thus opposed roused all the +devil within him--it was his own expression; and he grew to hate Mr. +West with an exceeding bitter hatred. + +The chimes were ordered--to play one tune only. Mr. West asked, when the +thing was absolutely inevitable, that at least some sweet and sacred +melody, acceptable to church-going ears, might be chosen; but Captain +Monk fixed on a sea-song that was a favourite of his own--"The Bay of +Biscay." At the end of every hour, when the clock had struck, the Bay of +Biscay was to burst forth to charm the parish. + +The work was put in hand at once, Captain Monk finding the necessary +funds, to be repaid by the proceeds of the rate. Other expenses were +involved, such as the strengthening of the belfry. The rate was not +collected quickly. It was, I say, one of those times of scarcity that +people used to talk so much of years ago; and when the parish beadle, +who was the parish collector, went round with the tax-paper in his hand, +the poorer of the cottagers could not respond to it. Some of them had +not paid the last levy, and Captain Monk threatened harsh measures. +Altogether, what with one thing or another, Church Leet that year was +kept in a state of ferment. But the work went on. + + * * * * * + +One windy day in September, Mr. West sat in his study writing a sermon, +when a jarring crash rang out from the church close by. He leaped from +his chair. The unusual noise had startled him; and it struck on every +chord of vexation he possessed. He knew that workmen were busy in the +tower, but this was the first essay of the chimes. The bells had clashed +in some way one upon the other; not giving out The Bay of Biscay or any +other melody, but a very discordant jangle indeed. It was the first and +the last time that poor George West heard their sound. + +He put the blotting-paper upon his sermon; he was in no mind to continue +it then; took up his hat and went out. His wife spoke to him from the +open window. + +"Are you going out now, George? Tea is all but ready." + +Turning back on the path, he passed into the sitting-room. A cup of tea +might soothe his nerves. The tea-tray stood on the table, and Mrs. West, +caddy in hand, was putting the tea into the tea-pot. Little Alice sat +gravely by. + +"Did you hear dat noise up in the church, papa?" she asked. + +"Yes, I heard it, dear," sighed the Vicar. + +"A fine clashing it was!" cried Mrs. West. "I have heard something else +this afternoon, George, worse than that: Bean's furniture is being taken +away." + +"What?" cried the Vicar. + +"It's true. Sarah went out on an errand and passed the cottage. The +chairs and tables were being put outside the door by two men, she says: +brokers, I conclude." + +Mr. West made short work of his tea and started for the scene. Thomas +Bean was a very small farmer indeed, renting about thirty acres. What +with the heavy rates, as he said, and other outgoings and bad seasons, +and ill-luck altogether, he had been behind in his payments this long +while; and now the ill-luck seemed to have come to a climax. Bean and +his wife were old; their children were scattered abroad. + +"Oh, sir," cried the old lady when she saw the Vicar, the tears raining +from her eyes, "it cannot be right that this oppression should fall upon +us! We had just managed--Heaven knows how, for I'm sure I don't--to pay +the Midsummer rent; and now they've come upon us for the rates, and have +took away things worth ten times the sum." + +"For the rates!" mechanically spoke the Vicar. + +She supposed it was a question. "Yes, sir; two of 'em we had in the +house. One was for putting up the chimes; and the other--well, I can't +just remember what the other was. The beadle, old Crow, comes in, sir, +this afternoon. 'Where be the master?' says he. 'Gone over to t'other +side of Church Dykely,' says I. 'Well,' says he, upon that, 'you be +going to have some visitors presently, and it's a pity he's out.' +'Visitors, for what, Crow?' says I. 'Oh, you'll see,' says he; 'and then +perhaps you'll wish you'd bestirred yourselves to pay your just dues. +Captain Monk's patience have been running on for a goodish while, and at +last it have run clean out.' Well, sir--" + +She had to make a pause; unable to control her grief. + +"Well, sir," she went on presently, "Crow's back was hardly turned, when +up came two men, wheeling a truck. I saw 'em afar off, by the ricks +yonder. One came in; t'other stayed outside with the truck. He asked me +whether I was ready with the money for the taxes; and I told him I was +not ready, and had but a couple of shillings in the house. 'Then I must +take the value of it in kind,' says he. And without another word, he +beckons in the outside man to help him. Our middle table, a mahogany, +they seized; and the handsome oak chest, which had been our pride; and +the master's arm-chair--But, there! I can't go on." + +Mr. West felt nearly as sorrowful as she, and far more angry. In his +heart he believed that Captain Monk had done this oppressive thing in +revenge. A great deal of ill-feeling had existed in the parish touching +the rate made for the chimes; and the Captain assumed that the few who +had not yet paid it _would_ not pay--not that they could not. + +Quitting the cottage in an impulse of anger, he walked swiftly to Leet +Hall. It lay in his duty, as he fully deemed, to avow fearlessly to +Captain Monk what he thought of this act of oppression, and to protest +against it. The beams of the setting sun, sinking below the horizon in +the still autumn evening, fell across the stubbled fields from which the +corn had not long been reaped; all around seemed to speak of peace. + +To accommodate two gentlemen who had come from Worcester that day to +Leet Hall on business, and wished to quit it again before dark, the +dinner had been served earlier than usual. The guests had left, but +Captain Monk was seated still over his wine in the dining-room when Mr. +West was shown in. In crossing the hall to it, he met Mrs. Carradyne, +who shook hands with him cordially. + +Captain Monk looked surprised. "Why, this is an unexpected pleasure--a +visit from you, Mr. Vicar," he cried, in mocking jest. "Hope you have +come to your senses! Sit down. Will you take port or sherry?" + +"Captain Monk," returned the Vicar, gravely, as he took the chair the +servant had placed, "I am obliged for your courtesy, but I did not +intrude upon you this evening to drink wine. I have seen a very sad +sight, and I am come hoping to induce you to repair it." + +"Seen what?" cried the Captain, who, it is well to mention, had been +taking his wine very freely, even for him. "A flaming sword in the sky?" + +"Your tenants, poor Thomas Bean and his wife, are being turned out of +house and home, or almost equivalent to it. Some of their furniture has +been seized this afternoon to satisfy the demand for these disputed +taxes." + +"Who disputes the taxes?" + +"The tax imposed for the chimes was always a disputed tax; and--" + +"Tush!" interrupted the Captain; "Bean owes other things as well as +taxes." + +"It was the last feather, sir, which broke the camel's back." + +"The last feather will not be taken off, whether it breaks backs or +leaves them whole," retorted the Captain, draining his glass of port and +filling it again. "Take you note of that, Mr. Parson." + +"Others are in the same condition as the Beans--quite unable to pay +these rates. I pray you, Captain Monk--I am here to _pray_ you--not to +proceed in the same manner against them. I would also pray you, sir, to +redeem this act of oppression, by causing their goods to be returned to +these two poor, honest, hard-working people." + +"Hold your tongue!" retorted the Captain, aroused to anger. "A pretty +example _you'd_ set, let you have your way. Every one of the lot shall +be made to pay to the last farthing. Who the devil is to pay, do you +suppose, if they don't?" + +"Rates are imposed upon the parish needlessly, Captain Monk; it has been +so ever since my time here. Pardon me for saying that if you put up +chimes to gratify yourself, you should bear the expense, and not throw +it upon those who have a struggle to get bread to eat." + +Captain Monk drank off another glass. "Any more treason, Parson?" + +"Yes," said Mr. West, "if you like to call it so. My conscience tells me +that the whole procedure in regard to setting up these chimes is so +wrong, so manifestly unjust, that I have determined not to allow them to +be heard until the rates levied for them are refunded to the poor and +oppressed. I believe I have the power to close the belfry-tower, and I +shall act upon it." + +"By Jove! do you think _you_ are going to stand between me and my will?" +cried the Captain passionately. "Every individual who has not yet paid +the rate shall be made to pay it to-morrow." + +"There is another world, Captain Monk," interposed the mild voice of the +minister, "to which, I hope, we are all--" + +"If you attempt to preach to me--" + +At this moment a spoon fell to the ground by the sideboard. The Vicar +turned to look; his back was towards it; the Captain peered also at the +end of the rapidly-darkening room: when both became aware that one of +the servants--Michael, who had shown in Mr. West--stood there; had stood +there all the time. + +"What are you waiting for, sirrah?" roared his master. "We don't want +_you_. Here! put this window open an inch or two before you go; the +room's close." + +"Shall I bring lights, sir?" asked Michael, after doing as he was +directed. + +"No: who wants lights? Stir the fire into a blaze." + +Michael left them. It was from him that thus much of the conversation +was subsequently known. + +Not five minutes had elapsed when a commotion was heard in the +dining-room. Then the bell rang violently, and the Captain opened the +door--overturning a chair in his passage to it--and shouted out for a +light. More than one servant flew to obey the order: in his hasty moods +their master brooked not delay: and three separate candles were carried +in. + +"Good lack, master!" exclaimed the butler, John Rimmer, who was a native +of Church Dykely, "what's amiss with the Parson?" + +"Lift him up, and loosen his neck-cloth," said Captain Monk, his tone +less imperious than usual. + +Mr. West lay on the hearthrug near his chair, his head resting close to +the fender. Rimmer raised his head, another servant took off his black +neck-tie; for it was only on high days that the poor Vicar indulged in +a white one. He gasped twice, struggled slightly, and then lay quietly +in the butler's arms. + +"Oh, sir!" burst forth the man in a horror-stricken voice to his master, +"this is surely death!" + +It surely was. George West, who had gone there but just before in the +height of health and strength, had breathed his last. + +How did it happen? How could it have happened? Ay, how indeed? It was a +question which has never been entirely solved in Church Leet to this +day. + +Captain Monk's account, both privately and at the inquest, was this: As +they talked further together, after Michael left the room, the Vicar +went on to browbeat him shamefully about the new chimes, vowing they +should never play, never be heard; at last, rising in an access of +passion, the Parson struck him (the Captain) in the face. He returned +the blow--who wouldn't return it?--and the Vicar fell. He believed his +head must have struck against the iron fender in falling: if not, if the +blow had been an unlucky one (it took effect just behind the left ear), +it was only given in self-defence. The jury, composed of Captain Monk's +tenants, expressed themselves satisfied, and returned a verdict of +Accidental Death. + +"A false account," pronounced poor Mrs. West, in her dire tribulation. +"My husband never struck him--never; he was not one to be goaded into +unbecoming anger, even by Captain Monk. _George struck no blow +whatever_; I can answer for it. If ever a man was murdered, he has +been." + +Curious rumours arose. It was said that Mrs. Carradyne, taking the air +on the terrace outside in the calmness of the autumn evening, heard the +fatal quarrel through the open window; that she heard Mr. West, after he +had received the death blow, wail forth a prophecy (or whatever it might +be called) that those chimes would surely be accursed; that whenever +their sound should be heard, so long as they were suffered to remain in +the tower, it should be the signal of woe to the Monk family. + +Mrs. Carradyne utterly denied this; she had not been on the terrace at +all, she said. Upon which the onus was shifted to Michael: who, it was +suspected, had stolen out to listen to the end of the quarrel, and had +heard the ominous words. Michael, in his turn, also denied it; but he +was not believed. Anyway, the covert whisper had gone abroad and would +not be laid. + + +III. + +Captain Monk speedily filled up the vacant living, appointing to it the +Reverend Thomas Dancox, an occasional visitor at Leet Hall, who was +looking out for one. + +The new Vicar turned out to be a man after the Captain's heart, a +rollicking, jovial, fox-hunting young parson, as many a parson was in +those days--and took small blame to himself for it. He was only a year +or two past thirty, good-looking, of taking manners and +hail-fellow-well-met with the parish in general, who liked him and +called him to his face Tom Dancox. + +All this pleased Captain Monk. But very soon something was to arrive +that did not please him--a suspicion that the young parson and his +daughter Katherine were on rather too good terms with one another. + +One day in November he stalked into the drawing-room, where Katherine +was sitting with her aunt. Hubert and Eliza were away at school, also +Mrs. Carradyne's two children. + +"Was Dancox here last night?" began Captain Monk. + +"Yes," replied Mrs. Carradyne. + +"And the evening before--Monday?" + +Mrs. Carradyne felt half afraid to answer, the Captain's tone was +becoming so threatening. "I--I think so," she rather hesitatingly said. +"Was he not, Katherine?" + +Katherine Monk, a dark, haughty young woman, twenty-one now, turned +round with a flush on her handsome face. "Why do you ask, papa?" + +"I ask to be answered," replied he, standing with his hands in the +pockets of his velveteen shooting coat, a purple tinge of incipient +anger rising in his cheeks. + +"Then Mr. Dancox did spend Monday evening here." + +"And I saw him walking with you in the meadow by the rill this morning," +continued the Captain. "Look here, Katherine, _no sweet-hearting with +Tom Dancox_. He may do very well for a parson; I like him as such, as +such only, you understand; but he can be no match for you." + +"You are disturbing yourself unnecessarily, sir," said Katherine, her +own tone an angry one. + +"Well, I hope that is so; I should not like to think otherwise. Anyway, +a word in season does no harm; and, take you notice that I have spoken +it. You also, Emma." + +As he left the room, Mrs. Carradyne spoke, dropping her voice: +"Katherine, you know that I had already warned you. I told you it would +not do to fall into any particular friendship with Mr. Dancox; that your +father would never countenance it." + +"And if I were to?--and if he did not?" scornfully returned Katherine. +"What then, Aunt Emma?" + +"Be silent, child; you must not talk in that strain. Your papa is +perfectly right in this matter. Tom Dancox is not suitable in any +way--for _you_." + +This took place in November. Katherine paid little heed to the advice; +she was not one to put up with advice of any sort, and she and Mr. +Dancox met occasionally under the rose. Early in December she went with +Mr. Dancox into the Parsonage, while he searched for a book he was +about to lend her. That was the plea; the truth, no doubt, being that +the two wanted a bit of a chat in quiet. As ill-luck had it, when she +was coming out again, the Parson in attendance on her as far as the +gate, Captain Monk came by. + +A scene ensued. Captain Monk, in a terrible access of passion, vowed by +all the laws of the Medes and Persians, which alter not, that never, in +life or after death, should those two rebellious ones be man and wife, +and he invoked unheard-of penalties on their heads should they dare to +contemplate disobedience to his decree. + +Thenceforth there was no more open rebellion; upon the surface all +looked smooth. Captain Monk understood the folly to be at an end: that +the two had come to their senses; and he took Tom Dancox back into +favour. Mrs. Carradyne assumed the same. But Katherine had her father's +unyielding will, and the Parson was bold and careless, and in love. + + * * * * * + +The last day of the year came round, and the usual banquet would come +with it. The weather this Christmas was not like that of last; the white +snow lay on the ground, the cold biting frost hardened the glistening +icicles on the trees. + +And the chimes? Ready these three months past, they had not yet been +heard. They would be to-night. Whether Captain Monk wished the +remembrance of Mr. West's death to die away a bit first, or that he +preferred to open the treat on the banqueting night, certain it was that +he had kept them silent. When the church clock should toll the midnight +knell of the old year, the chimes would ring out to welcome the new one +and gladden the ears of Church Leet. + +But not without a remonstrance. That morning, as the Captain sat in his +study writing a letter, Mrs. Carradyne came to him. + +"Godfrey," she said in a low and pleading tone, "you will not suffer the +chimes to play to-night, will you? Pray do not." + +"Not suffer the chimes to play?" cried the Captain. "But indeed I shall. +Why, this is the special night they were put up for." + +"I know it, Godfrey. But--you cannot think what a strangely-strong +feeling I have against it: an instinct, it seems to me. The chimes have +brought nothing but discomfort and disaster yet; they may bring more in +the future." + +Captain Monk stared at her. "What d'ye mean, Emma?" + +"_I would never let them be heard_," she said impressively. "I would +have them taken down again. The story went about, you know, that poor +George West in dying prophesied that whenever they should be heard woe +would fall upon this house. I am not superstitious, Godfrey, but--" + +Sheer passion had tied, so far, Godfrey Monk's lips. "Not +superstitious!" he raved out. "You are worse than that, Emma--a fool. +How dare you bring your nonsense here? There's the door." + +The banquet hour approached. Nearly all the guests of last year were +again present in the warm and holly-decorated dining-room, the one +notable exception being the ill-fated Parson West. Parson Dancox came in +his stead, and said grace from the post of honour at the Captain's right +hand. Captain Monk did not appear to feel any remorse or regret: he was +jovial, free, and grandly hospitable; one might suppose he had promoted +the dead clergyman to a canonry instead of to a place in the churchyard. + +"What became of the poor man's widow, Squire?" whispered a gentleman +from the neighbourhood of Evesham to Mr. Todhetley, who sat on the +left-hand of his host; Sir Thomas Rivers taking the foot of the table +this year. + +"Mrs. West? Well, we heard she opened a girls' school up in London," +breathed the Squire. + +"And what tale was that about his leaving a curse on the chimes?--I +never heard the rights of it." + +"Hush!" said the Squire cautiously. "Nobody talks of that here. Or +believes it, either. Poor West was a man to leave a blessing behind him; +never a curse." + +Hubert, at home for the holidays, was again at table. He was fourteen +now, tall of his age and slender, his blue eyes bright, his complexion +delicately beautiful. The pleated cambric frill of his shirt, which hung +over the collar of his Eton jacket after the fashion of the day, was +carried low in front, displaying the small white throat; his golden hair +curled naturally. A boy to admire and be proud of. The manners were more +decorous this year than they ever had been, and Hubert was allowed to +sit on. Possibly the shadow of George West's unhappy death lay +insensibly upon the party. + +It was about half-past nine o'clock when the butler came into the room, +bringing a small note, twisted up, to his master from Mrs. Carradyne. +Captain Monk opened it and held it towards one of the lighted branches +to read the few words it contained. + + "_A gentleman is asking to speak a word to Mr. Dancox. He says it + is important._" + +Captain Monk tore the paper to bits. "_Not to-night_, tell your +mistress, is my answer," said he to Rimmer. "Hubert, you can go to your +aunt now; it's past your bed-time." + +There could be no appeal, as the boy knew; but he went off unwillingly +and in bitter resentment against Mrs. Carradyne. He supposed she had +sent for him. + +"What a cross old thing you are, Aunt Emma!" he exclaimed as he entered +the drawing-room on the other side the hall. "You won't let Harry go in +at all to the banquets, and you won't let me stay at them! Papa meant--I +think he meant--to let me remain there to hear the chimes. Why need you +have interfered to send for me?" + +"I neither interfered with you, Hubert, nor sent for you. A gentleman, +who did not give his name and preferred to wait outside, wants to see +Mr. Dancox; that's all," said Mrs. Carradyne. "You gave my note to your +master, Rimmer?" + +"Yes, ma'am," replied the butler. "My master bade me say to you that his +answer was _not to-night_." + +Katherine Monk, her face betraying some agitation, rose from the piano. +"Was the message not given to Mr. Dancox?" she asked of Rimmer. + +"Not while I was there, Miss Katherine. The master tore the note into +bits, after reading it; and dropped them under the table." + +Now it chanced that Mr. Dancox, glancing covertly at the note while the +Captain held it to the light, had read what was written there. For a few +minutes he said nothing. The Captain was busy sending round the wine. + +"Captain Monk--pardon me--I saw my name on that bit of paper; it caught +my eye as you held it out," he said in a low tone. "Am I called out? Is +anyone in the parish dying?" + +Thus questioned, Captain Monk told the truth. No one was dying, and he +was not called out to the parish. Some gentleman was asking to speak to +him; only that. + +"Well, I'll just see who it is, and what he wants," said Mr. Dancox, +rising. "Won't be away two minutes, sir." + +"Bring him back with you; tell him he'll find good wine here and jolly +cheer," said the Captain. And Mr. Dancox went out, swinging his +table-napkin in his hand. + +In crossing the hall he met Katherine, exchanged a hasty word with her, +let fall the serviette on a chair as he caught up his hat and overcoat, +and went out. Katherine ran upstairs. + +Hubert lay down on one of the drawing-room sofas. In point of fact, that +young gentleman could not walk straight. A little wine takes effect on +youngsters, especially when they are not accustomed to it. Mrs. +Carradyne told Hubert the best place for him was bed. Not a bit of it, +the boy answered: he should go out on the terrace at twelve o'clock; the +chimes would be fine, heard out there. He fell asleep almost as he +spoke; presently he woke up, feeling headachy, cross and stupid, and of +his own accord went up to bed. + +Meanwhile, the dining-room was getting jollier and louder as the time +passed on towards midnight. Great wonder was expressed at the non-return +of the parson; somebody must be undoubtedly grievously sick or dying. +Mr. Speck, the quiet little Hurst Leet doctor, dissented from this. +Nobody was dying in the parish, he affirmed, or sick enough to need a +priest; as a proof of it, _he_ had not been sent for. + +Ring, ring, ring! broke forth the chimes on the quiet midnight air, as +the church clock finished striking twelve. It was a sweet sound; even +those prejudiced against the chimes could hear that: the windows had +been opened in readiness. + +The glasses were charged; the company stood on their legs, some of them +not at all steady legs just then, bending their ears to listen. Captain +Monk stood in his place, majestically waving his head and his left hand +to keep time in harmony with the Bay of Biscay. His right hand held his +goblet in readiness for the toast when the sounds should cease. + +Ring, ring, ring! chimed the last strokes of the bells, dying away to +faintness on the still evening air. Suddenly, amidst the hushed silence, +and whilst the sweet melody fell yet unbroken on the room, there arose a +noise as of something falling outside on the terrace, mingled with a +wild scream and the crash of breaking glass. + +One of the guests rushed to the window, and put his head out of it. So +far as he could see, he said (perhaps his sight was somewhat obscured), +it was a looking-glass lying further up on the terrace. + +Thrown out from one of the upper windows! scornfully pronounced the +Captain, full of wrath that it should have happened at that critical +moment to mar the dignity of his coming toast. And he gave the toast +heartily; and the new year came in for them all with good wishes and +good wine. + +Some little time yet ere the company finally rose. The mahogany frame of +the broken looking-glass, standing on end, was conspicuous on the white +ground in the clear frosty night, as they streamed out from the house. +Mr. Speck, whose sight was rather remarkably good, peered at it +curiously from the hall steps, and then walked quickly along the snowy +terrace towards it. + +Sure enough, it was a looking-glass, broken in its fall from an open +window above. But, lying by it in the deep snow, in his white +nightshirt, was Hubert Monk. + +When the chimes began to play, Hubert was not asleep. Sitting up in bed, +he disposed himself to listen. After a bit they began to grow fainter; +Hubert impatiently dashed to the window and threw it up to its full +height as he jumped on the dressing-table, when in some unfortunate way +he overbalanced himself, and pitched out on the terrace beneath, +carrying the looking-glass with him. The fall was not much, for his room +was in one of the wings, the windows of which were low; but the boy had +struck his head in falling, and there he had lain, insensible, on the +terrace, one hand still clasping the looking-glass. + +All the rosy wine-tint fading away to a sickly paleness on the Captain's +face, he looked down on his well-beloved son. The boy was carried +indoors to his room, reviving with the movement. + +"Young bones are elastic," pronounced Mr. Speck, when he had examined +him; "and none of these are broken. He will probably have a cold from +the exposure; that's about the worst." + +He seemed to have it already: he was shivering from head to foot now, as +he related the above particulars. All the family had assembled round +him, except Katherine. + +"Where is Katherine?" suddenly inquired her father, noticing her +absence. + +"I cannot think where she is," said Mrs. Carradyne. "I have not seen her +for an hour or two. Eliza says she is not in her room; I sent her to +see. She is somewhere about, of course." + +"Go and look for your sister, Eliza. Tell her to come here," said +Captain Monk. But though Eliza went at once, her quest was useless. + +Miss Katherine was not in the house: Miss Katherine had made a moonlight +flitting from it that evening with the Reverend Thomas Dancox. + +You will hear more in the next paper. + +JOHNNY LUDLOW. + + + + +A SONG. + + + Blue eyes that laugh at early morn + May weep ere close of day; + And weeping is a thing of scorn + To those whose hearts are gay. + Ah, simple souls, beware, beware! + Time's finger changeth smile to care! + + Gold locks that glitter as the sun + May sudden fade to grey; + And who shall favour anyone + Despoiled of bright array? + Ah, simple souls, beware of loss, + Time's finger changeth gold to dross! + + Good lack! we talk, yet all the same + We throw our words away! + The smiles, the gold, the tears, the shame, + Each tries them in his day. + And Time, with vengeful finger, makes + Of fondest goods our chief mistakes! + +G.B. STUART. + + + + +MISS KATE MARSDEN. + + +In this practical age we are inclined to estimate people by the worth of +what they do, and thus it happens that Miss Kate Marsden and her mission +are creating an interest and genuine admiration in the hearts of the +people such as few individuals or circumstances have power to call +forth. + +The work she has set herself to do, regardless of the dangers and +difficulties she will have to encounter, seems to us, who look out from +the security of our homes in this favoured land, almost beyond human +power to perform. It is, in fact, appalling. + +Even Miss Nightingale, who never exaggerates, writes of this lady: +"Surely no human being ever needed the loving Father's help and guidance +more than this brave woman." And in this the readers of THE +ARGOSY will fully agree. + +Her purpose is to travel through Russia to the extreme points of +Siberia, chiefly for the purpose of seeing the condition of those +affected with incurable disease, and what can be done to improve their +surroundings and mitigate their sufferings. + +This, if it stood alone, would be a grand work; but it is by no means +all she hopes to do. + +It is her purpose to join the gangs of exiles on their way to Siberia, +to note their treatment, to halt at their halting-stages, and see if it +be true that there is an utter absence of all sanitary appliances; that +filth and cruelty are in evidence; and that the strongest constitutions +break down under conditions unfit for brute beasts. She will investigate +the assertions that delicate innocent women and children are chained to +vile criminals, and so made to take their way on foot thousands of miles +to far-off Siberia; often for no other crime than some careless words +spoken against the Greek Church or the Czar. + +She hopes fully to inspect the prisons and mines in those far-off +regions, described by the Russians themselves as "living tombs." She +will, if possible, go into the cells of the condemned exiles, whose +walls are bare, except for their living covering of myriads of insects; +and, lastly, she intends to visit the Jews' quarters, and satisfy our +minds as to the existence of the terrible cruelties inflicted upon this +persecuted race, the hearing of which alone is heart-breaking. + +And all through her perilous journeys we may be sure she will lose no +opportunity of comforting and helping the suffering ones who come under +her notice, no matter what their race or condition. + +This line of conduct will have its dangers; but she holds not her life +dear unto her, so that she may accomplish her heart's desire. The +practical result looked forward to by her is, that, having gained an +intimate knowledge of the sufferings and cruelties inflicted upon so +many thousands of Russian subjects, and of which there have been such +conflicting accounts, she may be admitted a second time into the +presence of the Empress, there to place the actual scenes before her, +and to plead the cause of the sufferers personally. + +Strange to say, she is convinced in her own mind that the Emperor and +Empress of Russia are ignorant of a great deal that is done in their +name; or, as the phrase is, "By order of the Czar;" and that they know +little of the results of those Edicts and Ukase which are causing such +dire misery to thousands of their subjects, not only to the +long-suffering Jews but also to Christian women and children; and it is +her belief that if the truth could be placed before them, as she hopes +to place it, they will attack the evil even at the cost of life or +crown. + +This is quite a different view from that which obtains generally; and if +Miss Kate Marsden should be able to prove her point, and bring before +them the pictures of what she may see on her journey to and from +Siberia, she will score a result such as has fallen to no one's +endeavour hitherto. + +It is only now and then in a lifetime that we meet a woman capable of +such a grand work as this which Miss Kate Marsden has taken upon +herself; and the reason is that the qualifications necessary are so +rarely found in combination in one and the same individual. Many among +us may have one or other of the characteristics, but it is the existence +of them all in one person that makes the heroine and gives the power. + +You cannot be an hour in Miss Kate Marsden's company without becoming +aware of her enthusiasm, her courage, her self-devotion, her +fearlessness, and above all her simple child-like faith. It avails +nothing that you place before her the trials, the horrors, the dangers, +the possible failure of such an undertaking as hers. The necessity of +the work to be done she considers imperative, and the certainty in her +mind that it is her mission to do it carries all before it. + +The bravest among us would hesitate before deciding upon a tour in +Russia and Siberia, supposing it were one of pleasure or of scientific +research, because even under these favourable conditions we should be +subject to ignominious surveillance night and day, and the chances of +leaving the country when we pleased would be very small; but what can we +say of a young and delicate woman who, voluntarily and without thought +of self, deliberately walks into the country where deeds are done daily +which make us shrink with fear, and which, for very shame for the +century in which we live, we try hard not to believe? It is as if with +eyes open she walked into a den of lions and expected them to give her a +loving welcome and a free egress. + +Heaven help her, for she is in the midst of it and has begun her work; +the result of her fearlessness remains to be seen. I doubt greatly +whether we shall be allowed to receive reports of her daily life out +there, even where postal regulations are in force. We can but follow +her on her way from Moscow to Tomsk in thought, and picture to ourselves +the thousands of exiles she will find waiting there herded together like +brute beasts. She will not turn from them, even though typhoid be raging +amongst them--one can see her moving in and out among these miserable, +debased human beings, who lie tossing on those terrible wooden shelves, +helping them according to their needs; for she carries with her remedies +for pain and disease of body, and her simple faith will find means of +comforting heart and soul. + +If any of those twenty thousand exiles who have this year trod the weary +way between Petersburg and Tomsk, and on again to the far-off districts +of Siberia, should hear of the coming of this gentle woman, strong only +in her love for them, I think it would kindle a spark of hope again in +their hearts. They would know that at least they were remembered by +someone in the land of the living. + +Miss Kate Marsden has dared so much for these poor suffering ones that +she will not easily be turned aside by excessive politeness or brutality +on the part of officials from seeing the actual state of things. She +will not, I think, be content with viewing the Provincial Prison at +Tomsk, which is light and airy and occupied by local offenders, instead +of the _forwarding_ prison which, according to the accounts that reach +us, is a disgrace to the civilized world, and where the exiles are +lodged while waiting to be "forwarded." + +I pity Miss Kate Marsden if it should ever be her lot to witness the +knout used to a woman without the power of stopping it, or retaliating +upon the brute who is inflicting it. It would be almost the death of +her. + +If we have been successful in interesting the readers of THE +ARGOSY in this lady and her mission, they will like to know that +she is not a wilful person starting off on a wild-goose chase on a +generous impulse without at all counting the cost. On the contrary, the +work she is now doing has been the desire of her life, and all the +training and discipline to which she has subjected herself has been for +the purpose of fitting her for it. + +From her earliest childhood she has been an indefatigable worker among +the sick and wounded, with whom she has ever had the most intense +sympathy, and consequently an extraordinary power to soothe and comfort. + +Young as she was at the time of the Turko-Russian war, she did good +service on the battle-fields and worked untiringly among every kind of +depressing surrounding. The beautiful cross upon her breast is a gift +from the Empress of Russia, as a recognition of the good work she did +among the wounded soldiers at that time. From that day to this, whether +in England or in New Zealand, her work has been steadily going on, ever +gaining information and experience, and at the same time doing an amount +of good difficult to calculate. + +For one whole year she became, what I call for want of a better name, +an itinerant teacher of ambulance work, in places out of reach of +doctors in New Zealand. She taught the people how to deal with accidents +caused by the falling of trees, cuts with the axe, or kicks from vicious +horses, all of which are of frequent occurrence in the Bush. Again, she +taught the miners how to make use of surrounding materials in case of an +injury: how to bandage, and how to make a stretcher for moving a wounded +person from one place to another with such things as were handy, viz., +with two poles and a man's coat, the poles to be placed through the arms +and the coat itself to be buttoned securely over the poles. Another +thing she taught in these out-of-the-way places was how to deal with +burns and foreign matter in the eye or ear--also accidents of frequent +occurrence. + +Many interesting and exciting scenes could be related of this part of +her life, but I hesitate to do more than show her training and fitness +for the work she is now doing. + +It is a work we all want done, and would gladly take part in had we the +qualifications for it. It is a work which, if well and honestly done, +will deserve the best thanks of England and of the whole civilized +world. She may not live to tell us, but her life will not have been +lived in vain if she prove successful in getting at the truth of what is +done _By order of the Czar_, and presenting it to the Czar himself. + +We cannot travel with her bodily; we cannot hunger or perish with cold +in her company; we cannot fight with dogs and wolves as she must do; we +cannot, with her, go into the dens of immorality and fever; but we can +determine upon some way of helping her, and I think we shall only be too +thankful to join her friends who by giving of their means are +participating in so grand a mission. + + + + +THE FATE OF THE HARA DIAMOND. + +A Story Re-told. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +MY ARRIVAL AT DEEPLEY WALLS. + + +"Miss Janet Hope, + To the care of Lady Chillington, + Deepley Walls, near Eastbury, + Midlandshire." + +"There, miss, I'm sure that will do famously," said Chirper, the +overworked, oldish young person whose duty it was to attend to the +innumerable wants of the young lady boarders of Park Hill Seminary. She +had just written out, in a large sprawling hand, a card as above which +card was presently to be nailed on to the one small box that held the +whole of my worldly belongings. + +"And I think, miss," added Chirper, meditatively, as she held out the +card at arm's length, and gazed at it admiringly, "that if I was to +write out another card similar, and tie it round your arm, it would, +mayhap, help you in getting safe to your journey's end." + +I, a girl of twelve, was the Janet Hope indicated above, and I had been +looking over Chirper's shoulder with wondering eyes while she addressed +the card. + +"But who is Lady Chillington, and where is Deepley Walls, and what have +I to do with either, Chirper, please?" I asked. + +"If there is one thing in little girls more hateful than another, it is +curiosity," answered Chirper, with her mouth half-full of nails. +"Curiosity has been the bane of many of our sex. Witness Bluebeard's +unhappy wife. If you want to know more, you must ask Mrs. Whitehead. I +have my instructions and I act on them." + +Meeting Mrs. Whitehead half-an-hour later, as she was coming down the +stone corridor that led from the refectory, I did ask that lady +precisely the same questions that I had put to Chirper. Her frosty +glance, filled with a cold surprise, smote me even through her +spectacles; and I shrank a little, abashed at my own boldness. + +"The habit of asking questions elsewhere than in the class-room should +not be encouraged in young ladies," said Mrs. Whitehead, with a sort of +prim severity. "The other young ladies are gone home; you are about to +follow their example." + +"But, Mrs. Whitehead--madam," I pleaded, "I never had any other home +than Park Hill." + +"More questioning, Miss Hope? Fie! Fie!" + +And with a lean finger uplifted in menacing reproval, Mrs. Whitehead +sailed on her way, nor deigned me another word. + +I stole out into the playground, wondering, wretched, and yet smitten +through with faint delicious thrillings of a new-found happiness such as +I had often dreamed of, but had scarcely dared hope ever to realise. I, +Janet Hope, going home! It was almost too incredible for belief. I +wandered about like one mazed--like one who, stepping suddenly out of +darkness into sunshine, is dazzled by an intolerable brightness +whichever way he turns his eyes. And yet I was wretched: for was not +Miss Chinfeather dead? And that, too, was a fact almost too incredible +for belief. + +As I wandered, this autumn morning, up and down the solitary playground, +I went back in memory as far as memory would carry me, but only to find +that Miss Chinfeather and Park Hill Seminary blocked up the way. Beyond +them lay darkness and mystery. Any events in my child's life that might +have happened before my arrival at Park Hill had for me no authentic +existence. I had been part and parcel of Miss Chinfeather and the +Seminary for so long a time that I could not dissociate myself from them +even in thought. Other pupils had had holidays, and letters, and +presents, and dear ones at home of whom they often talked; but for me +there had been none of these things. I knew that I had been placed at +Park Hill when a very little girl by some, to me, mysterious and unknown +person, but further than that I knew nothing. The mistress of Park Hill +had not treated me in any way differently from her other pupils; but had +not the bills contracted on my account been punctually paid by somebody, +I am afraid that the even-handed justice on which she prided +herself--which, in conjunction with her aquiline nose and a certain +antique severity of deportment, caused her to be known amongst us girls +as _The Roman Matron_--would have been somewhat ruffled, and that +sentence of expulsion from those classic walls would have been promptly +pronounced and as promptly carried into effect. + +Happily no such necessity had ever arisen; and now the Roman Matron lay +dead in the little corner room on the second floor, and had done with +pupils, and half yearly accounts, and antique deportment for ever. + +In losing Miss Chinfeather I felt as though the corner-stone of my life +had been rent away. She was too cold, she was altogether too far removed +for me to regard her with love, or even with that modified feeling which +we call affection. But then no such demonstration was looked for by Miss +Chinfeather. It was a weakness above which she rose superior. But if my +child's love was a gift which she would have despised, she looked for +and claimed my obedience--the resignation of my will to hers, the +absorption of my individuality in her own, the gradual elimination from +my life of all its colour and freshness. She strove earnestly, and with +infinite patience, to change me from a dreamy, passionate child--a child +full of strange wild moods, capricious, and yet easily touched either +to laughter or tears--into a prim and elegant young lady, colourless and +formal, and of the most orthodox boarding-school pattern; and if she did +not quite succeed in the attempt, the fault, such as it was, must be set +down to my obstinate disposition and not to any lack of effort on the +part of Miss Chinfeather. And now this powerful influence had vanished +from my life, from the world itself, as swiftly and silently as a +snowflake in the sun. The grasp of the hard but not unkindly hand, that +had held me so firmly in the narrow groove in which it wished me to +move, had been suddenly relaxed, and everything around me seemed +tottering to its fall. Three nights ago Miss Chinfeather had retired to +rest, as well, to all appearance, and as cheerful as ever she had been; +next morning she had been found dead in bed. This was what they told us +pupils; but so great was the awe in which I held the mistress of Park +Hill Seminary that I could not conceive of Death even as venturing to +behave disrespectfully towards her. I pictured him in my girlish fancy +as knocking at her chamber door in the middle of the night, and after +apologising for the interruption, asking whether she was ready to +accompany him. Then would she who was thus addressed arise, and wrap an +ample robe about her, and place her hand with solemn sweetness in that +of the Great Captain, and the two would pass out together into the +starlit night, and Miss Chinfeather would be seen of mortal eyes +nevermore. + +Such was the picture that had haunted my brain for two days and as many +nights, while I wandered forlorn through house and playground, or lay +awake on my little bed. I had said farewell to one pupil after another +till all were gone, and the riddle which I had been putting to myself +continually for the last forty-eight hours had now been solved for me by +Mrs. Whitehead, and I had been told that I too was going home. + +"To the care of Lady Chillington, Deepley Walls, Midlandshire." The +words repeated themselves again and again in my brain, and became a +greater puzzle with every repetition. I had never to my knowledge heard +of either the person or the place. I knew nothing of one or the other. I +only knew that my heart thrilled strangely at the mention of the word +_Home_; that unbidden tears started to my eyes at the thought that +perhaps--only perhaps--in that as yet unknown place there might be +someone who would love me just a little. "Father--Mother." I spoke the +words, but they sounded unreal to me, and as if uttered by another. I +spoke them again, holding out my arms and crying aloud. All my heart +seemed to go out in the cry, but only the hollow winds answered me as +they piped mournfully through the yellowing leaves, a throng of which +went rustling down the walk as though stirred by the footsteps of a +ghost. Then my eyes grew blind with tears and I wept silently for a time +as if my heart would break. + +But tears were a forbidden luxury at Park Hill, and when, a little later +on, I heard Chirper calling me by name, I made haste to dry my eyes and +compose my features. She scanned me narrowly as I ran up to her. "You +dear, soft-hearted little thing!" she said. And with that she stooped +suddenly and gave me a hearty kiss, that might have been heard a dozen +yards away. I was about to fling my arms round her neck, but she stopped +me, saying, "That will do, dear. Mrs. Whitehead is waiting for us at the +door." + +Mrs. Whitehead was watching us through the glass door which led into the +playground. "The coach will be here in half-an-hour, Miss Hope," she +said; "so that you have not much time for your preparations." + +I stood like one stunned for a moment or two. Then I said: "If you +please, Mrs. Whitehead, may I see Miss Chinfeather before I go?" + +Her thin, straight lips quivered slightly, but in her eyes I read only +cold disapproval of my request. "Really," she said, "what a singular +child you must be. I scarcely know what to say." + +"Oh, if you please!" I urged. "Miss Chinfeather was always kind to me. I +remember her as long as I can remember anything. To see her once +more--for the last time. It would seem to me cruel to go away without." + +"Follow me," she said, almost in a whisper. So I followed her softly up +stairs into the little corner room where Miss Chinfeather lay in white +and solemn state, grandly indifferent to all mundane matters. As I +gazed, it seemed but an hour ago since I had heard those still lips +conjugating the verb mourir for the behoof of poor ignorant me, and the +words came back to me, and I could not help repeating them to myself as +I looked: Je meurs, tu meurs, etc. + +I bent over and kissed the marble-cold forehead and said farewell in my +heart, and went downstairs without a word. + +Half-an-hour later the district coach, a splendid vision, pulled up +impetuously at the gates. I was ready to the moment. Mrs. Whitehead's +frosty fingers touched mine for an instant; she imprinted a chill kiss +on my cheek and looked relieved. "Good-bye, my dear Miss Hope, and God +bless you," she said. "Strive to bear in mind through after life the +lessons that have been instilled into you at Park Hill Seminary. Present +my respectful compliments to Lady Chillington, and do not forget your +catechism." + +At this point the guard sounded an impatient summons on his bugle; +Chirper picked up my box, seized me by the hand, and hurried with me to +the coach. My luggage found a place on the roof; I was unceremoniously +bundled inside; Chirper gave me another of her hearty kisses, and +pressed a crooked sixpence into my hand "for luck," as she whispered. I +am sure there was a real tear in her eye as she did so. Next moment we +were off. + +I kept my eyes fixed on the Seminary as long as it remained in view, +especially on the little corner room. It seemed to me that I must be a +very wicked girl indeed, because I felt no real sorrow at quitting the +place that had been my home for so many years. I could not feel anything +but secretly glad, but furtively happy with a happiness which I felt +ashamed of acknowledging even to myself. Miss Chinfeather's white and +solemn face, as seen in her coffin, haunted my memory, but even of her I +thought only with a sort of chastened regret. She had never touched my +heart. There had been about her a bleakness of nature that effectually +chilled any tender buds of liking or affection that might in the +ordinary course of events have grown up and blossomed round her life. +Therefore, in my child's heart there was no lasting sorrow for her +death, no gracious memories of her that would stay with me, and smell +sweet, long after she herself should be dust. + +My eight miles' ride by coach was soon over. It ended at the railway +station of the county town. The guard of the coach had, I suppose, +received his secret instructions. Almost before I knew what had +happened, I found myself in a first-class carriage, with a ticket for +Eastbury in my hand, and committed to the care of another guard, he of +the railway this time--a fiery-faced man, with immense red whiskers, who +came and surveyed me as though I were some contraband article, but +finished by nodding his head and saying with a smile, "I dessay we shall +be good friends, miss, before we get to the end of our journey." + +It was my first journey by rail, and the novelty of it filled me with +wonder and delight. The train by which I travelled was a fast one, and +after my first feeling of fright at the rapidity of the motion had +merged into one of intense pleasure and exhilaration of mind, I could +afford to look back on my recent coach experience with a sort of pitying +superiority, as on a something that was altogether _rococo_ and out of +date. Already the rash of new ideas into my mind was so powerful that +the old landmarks of my life seemed in danger of being swept clean away. +Already it seemed days instead of only a brief hour or two since I had +bidden Mrs. Whitehead farewell, and had taken my last look at Park Hill +Seminary. + +The red-faced guard was as good as his word; he and I became famous +friends before I reached the end of my journey. At every station at +which we stopped he came to the window to see how I was getting on, and +whether I was in want of anything, and was altogether so kind to me that +I was quite sorry to part from him when the train reached Eastbury, and +left me, a minute later, standing, a solitary waif, on the little +platform. + +The one solitary fly of which the station could boast was laid under +contribution. My little box was tossed on to its roof; I myself was shut +up inside; the word was given, "To Deepley Walls;" the station was left +behind, and away we went, jolting and rumbling along the quiet country +lanes, and under over-arching trees, all aglow just now with autumn's +swift-fading beauty. The afternoon was closing in, and the wind was +rising, sweeping up with melancholy soughs from the dim wooded hollows +where it had lain asleep till the sun went down; garnering up the fallen +leaves like a cunning miser, wherever it could find a hiding-place for +them, and then dying suddenly down, and seeming to hold its breath as if +listening for the footsteps of the coming winter. + +In the western sky hung a huge tumbled wrack of molten cloud like the +ruins of some vast temple of the gods of eld. Chasmed buttresses, +battlements overthrown; on the horizon a press of giants, shoulder +against shoulder, climbing slowly to the rescue; in mid-sky a praying +woman; farther afield a huge head, and a severed arm the fingers of +which were clenched in menace: all these things I saw, and a score +others, as the clouds changed from minute to minute in form and +brightness, while the stars began to glow out like clusters of silver +lilies in the eastern sky. + +We kept jolting on for so long a time through the twilight lanes, and +the evening darkened so rapidly, that I began to grow frightened. It was +like being lifted out of a dungeon, when the old fly drew up with a +jerk, and a shout of "House there!" and when I looked out and saw that +we were close to the lodge entrance of some park. + +Presently a woman, with a child in her arms, came out of the lodge and +proceeded to open the gate for us. Said the driver--"How's Johnny +to-night?" + +The woman shouted something in reply, but I don't think the old fellow +heard her. + +"Ay, ay," he called out, "Johnny will be a famous young shaver one of +these days;" and with that, he whipped up his horse, and away we went. + +The drive up the avenue, for such at the time I judged it to be, and +such it proved to be, did not occupy many minutes. The fly came to a +stand, and the driver got down and opened the door. "Now, young lady, +here you are," he said; and I found myself in front of the main entrance +to Deepley Walls. + +It was too dark by this time for me to discern more than the merest +outline of the place. I saw that it was very large, and I noticed that +not even one of its hundred windows showed the least glimmer of light. +It loomed vast, dark and silent, as if deserted by every living thing. + +The old driver gave a hearty pull at the bell, and the muffled clamour +reached me where I stood. I was quaking with fears and apprehensions of +that unknown future on whose threshold I was standing. Would Love or +Hate open for me the doors of Deepley Walls? I was strung to such a +pitch that it seemed impossible for any lesser passion to be handmaiden +to my needs. + +What I saw when the massive door was opened was an aged woman, dressed +like a superior domestic, who, in sharp accents, demanded to know what +we meant by disturbing a quiet family in that unseemly way. She was +holding one hand over her eyes, and trying to make out our appearance +through the gathering darkness. I stepped close up to her. "I am Miss +Janet Hope, from Park Hill Seminary," I said, "and I wish to speak with +Lady Chillington." + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE MISTRESS OF DEEPLEY WALLS. + + +The words were hardly out of my lips when the woman shrank suddenly +back, as though struck by an invisible hand, and gave utterance to an +inarticulate cry of wonder and alarm. Then, striding forward, she seized +me by the wrist, and drew me into the lamp-lighted hall. "Child! child! +why have you come here?" she cried, scanning my face with eager eyes. +"In all the wide world this is the last place you should have come to." + +"Miss Chinfeather is dead, and all the young ladies have been sent to +their homes. I have no home, so they have sent me here." + +"What shall I do? What will her ladyship say?" cried the woman, in a +frightened voice. "How shall I ever dare to tell her?" + +"Who rang the bell, Dance, a few minutes ago? And to whom are you +talking?" + +The voice sounded so suddenly out of the semi-darkness at the upper end +of the large hall, which was lighted only by a small oil lamp, that both +the woman and I started. Looking in the direction from which the sound +had come, I could dimly make out, through the obscurity, the figures of +two women who had entered without noise through the curtained doorway, +close to which they were now standing. One of the two was very tall, and +was dressed entirely in black. The second one, who was less tall, was +also dressed in black, except that she seemed to have something white +thrown over her head and shoulders; but I was too far away to make out +any details. + +"Hush! don't you speak," whispered the woman warningly to me. "Leave me +to break the news to her ladyship." With that, she left me standing on +the threshold, and hurried towards the upper end of the hall. + +The tall personage in black, then, with the harsh voice--high pitched, +and slightly cracked--was Lady Chillington! How fast my heart beat! If +only I could have slipped out unobserved I would never have braved my +fortune within those walls again. + +She who had been called Dance went up to the two ladies, curtsied +deeply, and began talking in a low, earnest voice. Hardly, however, had +she spoken a dozen words when the lesser of the two ladies flung up her +arms with a cry like that of some wounded creature, and would have +fallen to the ground had not Dance caught her round the waist and so +held her. + +"What folly is this?" cried Lady Chillington, sternly, striking the +pavement of the hall sharply with the iron ferrule of her cane. "To your +room, Sister Agnes! For such poor weak fools as you solitude is the only +safe companion. But, remember your oath! Not a word; not a word." With +one lean hand uplifted, and menacing forefinger, she emphasised those +last warning words. + +She who had been addressed as Sister Agnes raised herself, with a deep +sigh, from the shoulder of Dance, cast one long look in the direction of +the spot where I was standing, and vanished slowly through the curtained +arch. Then Dance took up the broken thread of her narration, and Lady +Chillington, grim and motionless, listened without a word. + +Even after Dance had done speaking, her ladyship stood for some time +looking straight before her, but saying nothing in reply. I felt +intuitively that my fate was hanging on the decision of those few +moments, but I neither stirred nor spoke. + +At length the silence was broken by Lady Chillington. "Take the child +away," she said; "attend to her wants, make her presentable, and bring +her to me in the Green Saloon after dinner. It will be time enough +to-morrow to consider what must be done with her." + +Dance curtsied again. Her ladyship sailed slowly across the hall, and +passed out through another curtained doorway. + +Dance's first act was to pay and dismiss the driver, who had been +waiting outside all this time. Then, taking me by the hand, "Come along +with me, dear," she said. "Why, I declare, you look quite white and +frightened! You have nothing to fear, child. We shall not eat you--at +least, not just yet; not till we have fed you up a bit." + +At the end of a long corridor was Mrs. Dance's own room, into which I +was now ushered. Scarcely had I made a few changes in my toilette when +tea for two persons was brought in, and Mrs. Dance and I sat down to +table. The old lady was well on with her second cup before she made any +remark other than was required by the necessities of the occasion. + +I have called her an old woman, and such she looked in my youthful eyes, +although her years were only about sixty. She wore a dark brown dress +and a black silk apron, and had on a cap with thick frilled borders, +under which her grey hair was neatly snooded away. She looked ruddy and +full of health. A shrewd, sensible woman, evidently; yet with a motherly +kindness about her that made me cling to her with a child's unerring +instinct. + +"You look tired, poor thing," she said, as she leisurely stirred her +tea; "and well you may, considering the long journey you have had +to-day. I don't suppose that her ladyship will keep you more than ten +minutes in the Green Saloon, and after that you can go to bed as soon +as you like. What a surprise for all of us your coming has been! Dear, +dear! who would have expected such a thing this morning? But I knew by +the twitching of my corns that something uncommon was going to happen. I +was really frightened of telling her ladyship that you were here. +There's no knowing how she might have taken it; and there's no knowing +what she will decide to do with you to-morrow." + +"But what has Lady Chillington to do with me in any way?" I asked. +"Before this morning I never even heard her name; and now it seems that +she is to do what she likes with me." + +"That she will do what she likes with you, you may depend, dear," said +Mrs. Dance. "As to how she happens to have the right so to do, that is +another thing, and one about which it is not my place to talk nor yours +to question me. That she possesses such a right you may make yourself +certain. All that you have to do is to obey and to ask no questions." + +I sat in distressed and bewildered silence for a little while. Then I +ventured to say: "Please not to think me rude, but I should like to know +who Sister Agnes is." + +Mrs. Dance stirred uneasily in her chair and bent her eyes on the fire, +but did not immediately answer my question. + +"Sister Agnes is Lady Chillington's companion," she said at last. "She +reads to her, and writes her letters, and talks to her, and all that, +you know. Sister Agnes is a Roman Catholic, and came here from the +convent of Saint Ursula. However, she is not a nun, but something like +one of those Sisters of Mercy in the large towns, who go about among +poor people and visit the hospitals and prisons. She is allowed to live +here always, and Lady Chillington would hardly know how to get through +the day without her." + +"Is she not a relative of Lady Chillington?" I asked. + +"No, not a relative," answered Dance. "You must try to love her a great +deal, my dear Miss Janet; for if angels are ever allowed to visit this +vile earth, Sister Agnes is one of them. But there goes her ladyship's +bell. She is ready to receive you." + +I had washed away the stains of travel, and had put on my best frock, +and Dance was pleased to say that I looked very nice, "though, perhaps, +a trifle more old-fashioned than a girl of your age ought to look." Then +she laid down a few rules for my guidance when in the presence of Lady +Chillington, and led the way to the Green Saloon, I following with a +timorous heart. + +Dance flung open the folding-doors of the big room. "Miss Janet Hope to +see your ladyship," she called out; and next moment the doors closed +behind me, and I was left standing there alone. + +"Come nearer--come nearer," said her ladyship's cracked voice, as with a +long, lean hand she beckoned me to approach. + +I advanced slowly up the room, stopped and curtsied. Lady Chillington +pointed out a high footstool about three yards from her chair. I +curtsied again, and sat down on it. During the interview that followed +my quick eyes had ample opportunity for taking a mental inventory of +Lady Chillington and her surroundings. + +She had exchanged the black dress in which I first saw her for one of +green velvet, trimmed with ermine. This dress was made with short +sleeves and low body, so as to leave exposed her ladyship's arms, long, +lean and skinny, and her scraggy neck. Her nose was hooked and her chin +pointed. Between the two shone a row of large white, even teeth, which +long afterwards I knew to be artificial. Equally artificial was the mass +of short black, frizzly curls that crowned her head, which was +unburdened with cap or covering of any kind. Her eyebrows were dyed to +match her hair. Her cheeks, even through the powder with which they were +thickly smeared, showed two spots of brilliant red, which no one less +ignorant than I would have accepted without question as the last genuine +remains of the bloom of youth. But at that first interview I accepted +everything au pied de la lettre, without doubt or question of any kind. + +Her ladyship wore long earrings of filigree gold. Round her neck was a +massive gold chain. On her fingers sparkled several rings of +price--diamonds, rubies and opals. In figure her ladyship was tall, and +upright as a dart. She was, however, slightly lame of one foot, which +necessitated the use of a cane when walking. Lady Chillington's cane was +ivory-headed, and had a gold plate let into it, on which was engraved +her crest and initials. She was seated in an elaborately-carved +high-backed chair, near a table on which were the remains of a dessert +for one person. + +The Green Saloon was a large gloomy room; at least it looked gloomy as I +saw it for the first time, lighted up by four wax candles where twenty +were needed. These four candles being placed close by where Lady +Chillington was sitting, left the other end of the saloon in comparative +darkness. The furniture was heavy, formal and old-fashioned. Gloomy +portraits of dead and gone Chillingtons lined the green walls, and this +might be the reason why there always seemed to me a slight graveyard +flavour--scarcely perceptible, but none the less surely there--about +this room which caused me to shudder involuntarily whenever I crossed +its threshold. + +Lady Chillington's black eyes--large, cold and steady as Juno's own--had +been bent upon me all this time, measuring me from head to foot with +what I felt to be a slightly contemptuous scrutiny. + +"What is your name, and how old are you?" she asked, with startling +abruptness, after a minute or two of silence. + +"Janet Hope, and twelve years," I answered, laconically. A feeling of +defiance, of dislike to this bedizened old woman began to gnaw my +child's heart. Young as I was, I had learned, with what bitterness I +alone could have told, the art of wrapping myself round with a husk of +cold reserve, which no one uninitiated in the ways of children could +penetrate, unless I were inclined to let them. Sulkiness was the +generic name for this quality at school, but I dignified it with a +different term. + +"How many years were you at Park Hill Seminary? and where did you live +before you went there?" asked Lady Chillington. + +"I have lived at Park Hill ever since I can remember anything. I don't +know where I lived before that time." + +"Are your parents alive or dead? If the latter, what do you remember of +them?" + +A lump came into my throat, and tears into my eyes. For a moment or two +I could not answer. + +"I don't know anything about my parents," I said. "I never remember +seeing them. I don't know whether they are alive or dead." + +"Do you know why you were consigned by the Park Hill people to this +particular house--to Deepley Walls--to me, in fact?" + +Her voice was raised almost to a shriek as she said these last words, +and she pointed to herself with one claw-like finger. + +"No, ma'am, I don't know why I was sent here. I was told to come, and I +came." + +"But you have no claim on me--none whatever," she continued, fiercely. +"Bear that in mind: remember it always. Whatever I may choose to do for +you will be done of my own free will, and not through compulsion of any +kind. No claim whatever; remember that. None whatever." + +She was silent for some time after this, and sat with her cold, steady +eyes fixed intently on the fire. For my part, I sat as still as a mouse, +afraid to stir, longing for my dismissal, and dreading to be questioned +further. + +Lady Chillington roused herself at length with a deep sigh, and a few +words muttered under her breath. + +"Here is a bunch of grapes for you, child," she said. "When you have +eaten them it will be time for you to retire." + +I advanced timidly and took the grapes, with a curtsey and a "Thank you, +ma'am," and then went back to my seat. + +As I sat eating my grapes my eyes went up to an oval mirror over the +fire-place, in which were reflected the figures of Lady Chillington and +myself. My momentary glance into its depths showed me how keenly, but +furtively, her ladyship was watching me. But what interest could a great +lady have in watching poor insignificant me? I ventured another glance +into the mirror. Yes, she looked as if she were devouring me with her +eyes. But hothouse grapes are nicer than mysteries, and how is it +possible to give one's serious attention to two things at a time? + +When I had finished the grapes, I put my plate back on the table. + +"Ring that bell," said Lady Chillington. I rang it accordingly, and +presently Dance made her appearance. + +"Miss Hope is ready to retire," said her ladyship. + +I arose, and going a step or two nearer to her, I made her my most +elaborate curtsey, and said, "I wish your ladyship a very good-night." + +The ghost of a smile flickered across her face. "I am pleased to find, +child, that you are not entirely destitute of manners," she said, and +with a stately wave of the arm I was dismissed. + +It was like an escape from slavery to hear the door of the Green Saloon +close behind me, and to get into the great corridors and passages +outside. I could have capered for very glee; only Mrs. Dance was a staid +sort of person, and might not have liked it. + +"Her ladyship is pleased with you, I am sure," she remarked, as we went +along. + +"That is more than I am with her," I answered, pertly. Mrs. Dance looked +shocked. + +"You must not talk in that way, dear, on any account," she said. "You +must try to like Lady Chillington; it is to your interest to do so. But +even should you never learn to like her, you must not let anyone know +it." + +"I'm sure that I shall like the lady that you call Sister Agnes," I +said. "When shall I see her? To-morrow?" + +Mrs. Dance looked at me sharply for a moment. "You think you shall like +Sister Agnes, eh? When you come to know her, you will more than like +her; you will love her. But perhaps Lady Chillington will not allow you +to see her." + +"But why not?" I said abruptly, and I could feel my eyes flash with +anger. + +"The why not I am not at liberty to explain," said Mrs. Dance, drily. +"And let me tell you, Miss Janet Hope, there are many things under this +roof of which no explanation will be given you, and if you are a wise, +good girl, you will not ask too many questions. I tell you this simply +for your own good. Lady Chillington cannot abear people that are always +prying and asking 'What does this mean?' and 'What does the other mean?' +A still tongue is the sign of a wise head." + +Ten minutes later I had said my prayers and was in bed. "Don't go +without kissing me," I said to Dance as she took up the candle. + +The old lady came back and kissed me tenderly. "Heaven bless you and +keep you, my dear!" she said, with solemn dignity. "There are those in +the world who love you very dearly, and some day perhaps you will know +all. I dare not say more. Good-night, and God bless you." + +Mrs. Dance's words reached a chord in my heart that vibrated to the +slightest touch. I cried myself silently to sleep. + +How long I had been asleep I had no means of knowing, but I was awakened +some time in the night by a rain of kisses, soft, warm, and light, on +lips, cheeks and forehead. The room was pitch dark, and for a second or +two I thought I was still at Park Hill, and that Miss Chinfeather had +come back from heaven to tell me how much she loved me. But this thought +passed away like the slide of a magic lantern, and I knew that I was at +Deepley Walls. The moment I knew this I put out my arms with the +intention of clasping my unknown visitor round the neck. But I was not +quick enough. The kisses ceased, my hands met each other in the empty +air, and I heard a faint noise of garments trailing across the floor. I +started up in bed, and called out, in a frightened voice, "Who's there?" + +"Hush! not a word!" whispered a voice out of the darkness. Then I heard +the door of my room softly closed, and I felt that I was alone. + +I was left as wide awake as ever I had been in my life. My child's heart +was filled with an unspeakable yearning, and yet the darkness and the +mystery frightened me. It could not be Miss Chinfeather who had visited +me, I argued with myself. The lips that had touched mine were not those +of a corpse, but were instinct with life and love. Who, then, could my +mysterious visitor be? Not Lady Chillington, surely! I half started up +in bed at the thought. Just as I did so, without warning of any kind, a +solemn muffled tramp became audible in the room immediately over mine. A +tramp, slow, heavy, measured, from one end of the room to the other, and +then back again. I slipped back into the bedclothes and buried myself up +to the ears. I could hear the beating of my heart, oppressed now with a +new terror before which the lesser one faded utterly. The very monotony +of that dull measured walk was enough to unstring the nerves of a child, +coming as it did in the middle of the night. I tried to escape from it +by going still deeper under the clothes, but I could hear it even then. +Since I could not escape it altogether, I had better listen to it with +all my ears, for it was quite possible that it might come down stairs, +and so into my room. Had such a thing happened, I think I should have +died from sheer terror. Happily for me nothing of the kind took place; +and, still listening, I fell asleep at last from utter weariness, and +knew nothing more till I was awoke by a stray sunbeam smiting me across +the eyes. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +A VOYAGE OF DISCOVERY. + + +A golden sunbeam was shining through a crevice in the blinds; the birds +were twittering in the ivy outside; oxen were lowing to each other +across the park. Morning, with all her music, was abroad. + +I started up in bed and rubbed my eyes. Within the house everything was +as mute as the grave. That horrible tramping overhead had ceased--had +ceased, doubtless, with the return of daylight, which would otherwise +have shifted it from the region of the weird to that of the +commonplace. I smiled to myself as I thought of my terrors of the past +night, and felt brave enough just then to have faced a thousand ghosts. +In another minute I was out of bed, and had drawn up my blind, and flung +open my window, and was drinking in the sweet peaceful scene that +stretched away before me in long level lines to the edge of a far-off +horizon. + +My window was high up and looked out at the front of the hall. +Immediately below me was a semicircular lawn, shut in from the park by +an invisible fence, close shaven, and clumped with baskets of flowers +glowing just now with all the brilliance of late autumn. The main +entrance--a flight of shallow steps, and an Ionic portico, as I +afterwards found--was at one end of the building, and was reached by a +long straight carriage drive, the route of which could be traced across +the park by the thicker growth of trees with which it was fringed. This +park stretched to right and left for a mile either way. In front, it was +bounded, a short half-mile away, by the high road, beyond which were +level wide-stretching meadows, through which the river Adair washed slow +and clear. + +But chief of all this morning I wanted to be down among the flowers. I +made haste to wash and dress, taking an occasional peep through the +window as I did so, and trying to entice the birds from their +hiding-places in the ivy. Then I opened my bed-room door, and then, in +view of the great landing outside, I paused. Several doors, all except +mine now closed, gave admittance from this landing to different rooms. +Both landing and stairs were made of oak, black and polished with age. +One broad flight of stairs, with heavy carved banisters, pointed the way +below; a second and narrower flight led to the regions above. As a +matter of course I chose the former, but not till after a minute's +hesitation as to whether I should venture to leave my room at all before +I should be called. But my desire to see the baskets of flowers +prevailed over everything else. I closed my door gently and hurried +down. + +I found myself in the entrance-hall of Deepley Walls, into which I had +been ushered on my arrival. There were the two curtained doorways +through which Lady Chillington had come and gone. For the rest, it was a +gloomy place enough, with its flagged floor, and its diamond-paned +windows high up in the semicircular roof. A few rusty full-lengths +graced the walls; the stairs were guarded by two effigies in armour; a +marble bust of one of the Caesars stood on a high pedestal in the middle +of the floor; and that was all. + +I was glad to get away from this dismal spot and to find myself in the +passage which led to the housekeeper's room. I opened the door and +looked in, but the room was vacant. Farther along the same passage I +found the kitchen and other domestic offices. The kitchen clock was just +on the point of six as I went in. One servant alone had come down. From +her I inquired my way into the garden, and next minute I was on the +lawn. The close-cropped grass was wet with the heavy dew; but my boots +were thick and I heeded it not, for the flowers were there within my +very grasp. + +Oh, those flowers! can I ever forget them? I have seen none so beautiful +since. There can be none so beautiful out of Paradise. + +One spray of scarlet geranium was all that I ventured to pluck. But the +odours and the colours were there for all comers, and were as much mine +for the time being as if the flowers themselves had belonged to me. +Suddenly I turned and glanced up at the many-windowed house with a sort +of guilty consciousness that I might possibly be doing wrong. But the +house was still asleep--closed shutters or down-drawn blind at every +window. I saw before me a substantial-looking red-brick mansion, with a +high slanting roof, of not undignified appearance now that it was +mellowed by age, but with no pretensions to architectural beauty. The +sole attempt at outside ornamentation consisted of a few flutings of +white stone, reaching from the ground to the second floor, and +terminating in oval shields of the same material, on which had +originally been carved the initials of the builder and the date of +erection; but the summer's sun and the winter's rain of many a long year +had rubbed both letters and figures carefully out. Long afterwards I +knew that Deepley Walls had been built in the reign of the Third William +by a certain Squire Chillington of that date, "out of my own head," as +he himself put it in a quaint document still preserved among the family +archives; and rather a muddled head it must have been in matters +architectural. + +After this, I ventured round by the main entrance, with its gravelled +carriage sweep, to the other side of the house, where I found a long +flagged terrace bordered with large evergreens in tubs placed at +frequent intervals. On to this terrace several French windows +opened--the windows, as I found later in the day, of Lady Chillington's +private rooms. To the left of this terrace stood a plantation of young +trees, through which a winding path that opened by a wicket into the +private grounds invited me to penetrate. Through the green gloom I +advanced bravely, my heart beating with all the pleasure of one who was +exploring some unknown land. I saw no living thing by the way, save two +grey rabbits that scuttered across my path and vanished in the +undergrowth on the other side. Pretty frisky creatures! how I should +like to have caught them, and fed them, and made pets of them as long as +they lived! + +Two or three hundred yards farther on the path ended with another +wicket, now locked, which opened into the high road. About a mile away I +could discern the roofs and chimneys of a little town. When I got back +to the hall I found dear old Dance getting rather anxious at my long +absence, but she brightened into smiles when I kissed her and told her +where I had been. + +"You must have slept well, or you would hardly look so rosy this +morning," she said as we sat down to breakfast. + +"I should have slept very well if I had not been troubled by the +ghosts." + +"Ghosts! my dear Miss Janet? You do not mean to say--" and the old +lady's cheek paled suddenly, and her cup rattled in her saucer as she +held it. + +"I mean to say that Deepley Walls is haunted by two ghosts, one of which +came and kissed me last night when I was asleep; while the other one was +walking nearly all night in the room over mine." + +Dance's face brightened, but still wore a puzzled expression. "You must +have dreamed that someone kissed you, dear," she said. "If you were +asleep you could not know anything about it." + +"But I was awakened by it, and I am positive that it was no dream." Then +I told her what few particulars there were to tell. + +"For the future we must lock your bed-room door," she said. + +"Then I should be more frightened than ever. Besides, a real ghost would +not be kept out by locking the door." + +"Well, dear, tell me if you are disturbed in the same way again. But as +for the tramping you heard in the room overhead, that is easily +explained. It was no ghost that you heard walking, but Lady +Chillington." Then, seeing my look of astonishment, she went on to +explain. "You see, my dear Miss Janet, her ladyship is a very peculiar +person, and does many things that to commonplace people like you and me +may seem rather strange. One of these little peculiarities is her +fondness for walking about the room over yours at night. Now, if she +likes to do this, I know of no reason why she should not do it. It is a +little whim that does no harm to anybody; and as the house and +everything in it are her own, she may surely please herself in such a +trifle." + +"But what is there in the room that she should prefer it to any other in +the house for walking in by night?" + +"What--is--there--in the room?" said the old lady, staring at me across +the table with a strange, frightened look in her eyes. "What a curious +question! The room is a common room, of course, with nothing in it out +of the ordinary way; only, as I said before, it happens to be Lady +Chillington's whim to walk there. So, if you hear the noise again, you +will know how to account for it, and will have too much good sense to +feel in the least afraid." + +I had a half consciousness that Dance was prevaricating with me in this +matter, or hiding something from me; but I was obliged to accept her +version as the correct one, especially as I saw that any further +questioning would be of no avail. + +I did not see Lady Chillington that day. She was reported to be unwell, +and kept her own rooms. + +About noon a message came from Sister Agnes that she would like to see +me in her room. When I entered she was standing by a square oak table, +resting one hand on it while the other was pressed to her heart. Her +face was very pale, but her dark eyes beamed on me with a veiled +tenderness that I could not misinterpret. + +"Good-morrow, Miss Hope," she said, offering her white slender hand for +my acceptance. "I fear that you will find Deepley Walls even duller than +Park Hill Seminary." + +Her tone was cold and constrained. I looked up earnestly into her face. +Her lips began to quiver painfully. "Child! child! you must not look at +me in that way," she cried. + +Instinct whispered something in my ear. "You are the lady who came and +kissed me when I was asleep!" I exclaimed. + +Her brow contracted for a moment as if she were in pain. A hectic spot +came out suddenly on either cheek, and vanished almost as swiftly. "Yes, +it was I who came to your room last night," she said. "You are not vexed +with me for doing so?" + +"On the contrary, I love you for it." + +Her smile, the sweetest I ever saw, beamed out at this. Gently she +stroked my hair. "You looked so forlorn and weary last night," she said, +"that after I got to bed I could not help thinking about you. I was +afraid you would not be able to sleep in a strange place, so I could not +rest till I had visited you: but I never intended to awake you." + +"I do not mind how often I am awakened in the same way," I said. "No one +has ever seemed to love me but you, and I cannot help loving you back." + +"My poor child!" was all she said. We had sat down by this time close to +the window, and Sister Agnes was holding one of my hands in hers and +caressing it gently as she gazed dreamily across the park. My eyes, +child-like, wandered from her to the room and then back again. The +picture still lives in my memory as fresh as though it had been limned +but yesterday. + +A square whitewashed room, fitted up with furniture of unpolished oak. +On the walls a few proof engravings of subjects taken from Sacred +History. A small bookcase in one corner, and a _prie-dieu_ in another. +The floor uncarpeted, but polished after the French fashion. A +writing-table; a large workbox; a heap of clothing for the poor; and +lastly, a stand for flowers. + +The features of Sister Agnes were as delicate and clearly cut as those +of some antique statue, but their habitual expression was one of intense +melancholy. Her voice was low and gracious: the voice of a refined and +educated gentlewoman. Her hair was black, with here and there a faint +silver streak; but the peculiar head-dress of white linen which she wore +left very little of it visible. Disfiguring as this head-dress might +have been to many people, in her case it served merely to enhance the +marble whiteness and transparent purity of her complexion. Her eyebrows +were black and well-defined; but as for the eyes themselves, I can only +repeat what I said before--that their dark depths were full of +tenderness and a sort of veiled enthusiasm difficult to describe in +words. Her dress was black, soft and coarse, relieved by deep cuffs of +white linen. Her solitary ornament, if ornament it could be called, was +a rosary of black beads. Not without reason have I been thus particular +in describing Sister Agnes and her surroundings, as they who read will +discover for themselves by-and-by. + +Sister Agnes woke up from her reverie with a sigh, and began talking to +me about my schooldays and my mode of life at Park Hill Seminary. It was +a pleasure to me to talk, because I felt it was a pleasure to her to +listen to me. And she let me talk on and on for I can't tell how long, +only putting in a question now and again, till she knew almost as much +about Miss Chinfeather and Park Hill as I knew myself. But she never +seemed to grow weary. We were sitting close together, and after a time I +felt her arm steal gently round my waist, pressing me closer still; and +so, with my head nestling against her shoulder, I talked on, heedless of +the time. O happy afternoon! + +It was broken by a summons for Sister Agnes from Lady Chillington. +"To-morrow, if the weather hold fine, we will go to Charke Forest and +gather blackberries," said Sister Agnes as she gave me a parting kiss. + +That night I went early to bed, and never woke till daybreak. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +SCARSDALE WEIR. + + +I was up betimes next morning, long before Sister Agnes could possibly +be ready to take me to the forest. So I took my sewing into the garden, +and found a pleasant sunny nook, where I sat and worked till breakfast +time. The meal was scarcely over when Sister Agnes sent for me. It made +my heart leap with pleasure to see how her beautiful, melancholy face +lighted up at my approach. Why should she feel such an interest in one +whom she had never seen till a few hours ago? The question was one I +could not answer; I could only recognise the fact and be thankful. + +The morning was delicious: sunny, without being oppressive; while in the +shade there was a faint touch of austerity like the first breath of +coming winter. A walk of two miles brought us to the skirts of the +forest, and in five minutes after quitting the high road we might have +been a hundred miles away from any habitation, so utterly lost and +buried from the outer world did we seem to be. Already the forest paths +were half hidden by fallen leaves, which rustled pleasantly under our +feet. By-and-by we came to a pretty opening in the wood, where some +charitable soul had erected a rude rustic seat that was more than half +covered with the initials of idle wayfarers. Here Sister Agnes sat down +to rest. She had brought a volume of poems with her, and while she read +I wandered about, never going very far away, feasting on the purple +blackberries, finding here and there a late-ripened cluster of nuts, +trying to find out a nest or two among the thinned foliage, and enjoying +myself in a quiet way much to my heart's content. + +I don't think Sister Agnes read much that morning. Her gaze was oftener +away from her book than on it. After a time she came and joined me in +gathering nuts and blackberries. She seemed brighter and happier than I +had hitherto seen her, entering into all my little projects with as much +eagerness as though she were herself a child. How soon I had learned to +love her! Why had I lived all those dreary years at Park Hill without +knowing her? But I could never again feel quite so lonely--never quite +such an outcast from that common household love which all the girls I +had known seemed to accept as a matter of course. Even if I should +unhappily be separated from Sister Agnes, I could not cease to love her; +and although I had seen her for the first time barely forty-eight hours +ago, my child's instinct told me that she possessed that steadfastness, +sweet and strong, which allows no name that has once been written on its +heart to be erased therefrom for ever. + +My thoughts were running in some such groove, but they were all as +tangled and confused as the luxuriant undergrowth around me. It must +have been out of this confusion that the impulse arose which caused me +to address a question to Sister Agnes that startled her as much as if a +shell had exploded at her feet. + +"Dear Sister Agnes," I said, "you seem to know my history, and all about +me. Did you know my papa and mamma?" + +She dropped the leaf that held her fruit, and turned on me a haggard, +frightened face that made my own grow pale. + +"What makes you think that I know your history?" she stammered out. + +"You who are so intimate with Lady Chillington must know why I was +brought to Deepley Walls: you must know something about me. If you know +anything about my father and mother, oh! do please tell me; please do!" + +"I am tired, Janet. Let us sit down," she said, wearily. So, hand in +hand, we went back to the rustic seat and sat down. + +She sat for a minute or two without speaking, gazing straight before her +into some far-away forest vista, but seeing only with that inner eye +which searches through the dusty chambers of heart and brain whenever +some record of the past has to be brought forth to answer the questions +of to-day. + +"I do know your history, dear child," she said at length, "and both your +parents were friends of mine." + +"Were! Then neither of them is alive?" + +"Alas! no. They have been dead many years. Your father was drowned in +one of the Italian lakes. Your mother died a year afterwards." + +All the sweet vague hopes that I had cherished in secret, ever since I +could remember anything, of some day finding at least one of my parents +alive, died out utterly as Sister Agnes said these words. My heart +seemed to faint within me. I flung myself into her arms, and burst into +tears. + +Very tenderly and lovingly, with sweet caresses and words of comfort, +did Sister Agnes strive to win me back to cheerfulness. Her efforts were +not unsuccessful, and after a time I grew calmer and recovered my +self-possession; and as soon as so much was accomplished we set out on +our return to Deepley Walls. + +As we rose to go, I said, "Since you have told me so much, Sister Agnes, +will you not also tell me why I have been brought to Deepley Walls, and +why Lady Chillington has anything to do with me?" + +"That is a question, dear Janet, which I cannot answer," she said. "I am +bound to Lady Chillington by a solemn promise not to reveal to you the +nature of the secret bond which has brought you under her roof. That she +has your welfare at heart you may well believe, and that it is to your +interest to please her in every possible way is equally certain. More +than this I dare not say, except there are certain pages of your +history, some of them of a very painful character, which it would not be +advisable that you should read till you shall be many years older than +you are now. Meanwhile rest assured that in Lady Chillington, however +eccentric she may seem to be, you have a firm and powerful friend; while +in me, who have neither influence nor power, you have one who simply +loves you, and prays night and day for your welfare." + +"And you will never cease to love me, will you?" I said, just as we +stepped out of the forest into the high road. + +She took both my hands in hers and looked me straight in the face. +"Never, while I live, Janet Hope, can I cease to love you," she said. +Then we kissed and went on our way towards Deepley Walls. + +"You are to dine with her ladyship to-day, Miss Janet," said Dance the +same afternoon. "We must look out your best bib and tucker." + +Dance seemed to think that a mighty honour was about to be conferred +upon me, but for my own part I would have given much to forego the +distinction. However, there was no help for it, so I submitted quietly +to having my hair dressed and to being inducted into my best frock. I +was dreadfully abashed when the footman threw open the dining-room door +and announced in a loud voice, "Miss Janet Hope." + +Dinner had just been served, and her ladyship was waiting. I advanced up +the room and made my curtsey. Lady Chillington looked at me grimly, +without relaxing a muscle, and then extended a lean forefinger, which I +pressed respectfully. The butler indicated a chair, and I sat down. Next +moment Sister Agnes glided in through a side door, and took her place +at the table, but considerably apart from Lady Chillington and me. I +felt infinitely relieved by her presence. + +Her ladyship looked as elaborately youthful, with her pink cheeks, her +black wig, and her large white teeth, as on the evening of my arrival at +Deepley Walls. But her hands shook a little, making the diamonds on her +fingers scintillate in the candlelight as she carried her food to her +mouth, and this was a sign of age which not all the art in the world +could obviate. The table was laid out with a quantity of old-fashioned +plate; indeed, the plate was out of all proportion to the dinner, which +consisted of nothing more elaborate than some mutton broth, a roast +pullet and a custard. But there was a good deal of show, and we were +waited on assiduously by a respectable but fatuous-looking butler. There +was no wine brought out, but some old ale was poured into her ladyship's +glass from a silver flagon. Sister Agnes had a small cover laid apart +from ours. Her dinner consisted of herbs, fruit, bread and water. It +pained me to see that the look of intense melancholy which had lightened +so wonderfully during our forest walk had again overshadowed her face +like a veil. She gave me one long, earnest look as she took her seat at +the table, but after that she seemed scarcely to be aware of my +presence. + +We had sat in grim silence for full five minutes, when Lady Chillington +spoke. + +"Can you speak French, child?" she said, turning abruptly to me. + +"I can read it a little, but I cannot speak it," I replied. + +"Nor understand what is said when it is spoken in your presence?" + +"No, ma'am." + +"So much the better," she answered with a grating laugh. "Children have +long ears, and there is no freedom of conversation when they are +present." With that she addressed some remarks in French to Sister +Agnes, who replied to her in the same language. I knew nothing about my +ears being long, but her ladyship's words had made them tingle as if +they had been boxed. For one thing I was thankful--that no further +remarks were addressed to me during dinner. The conversation in French +became animated, and I had leisure to think of other things. + +Dinner was quickly over, and at a signal from her ladyship, the folding +doors were thrown open, and we defiled into the Green Saloon, I bringing +up the rear meekly. On the table were fruit and flowers, and one small +bottle of some light wine. The butler filled her ladyship's glass, and +then withdrew. + +"You can take a pear, little girl," said Lady Chillington. Accordingly I +took a pear, but when I had got it I was too timid to eat it, and could +do nothing but hold it between my hot palms. Had I been at Park Hill +Seminary, I should soon have made my teeth meet in the fruit; but I was +not certain as to the proper mode of eating pears in society. + +Lady Chillington placed her glass in her eye and examined me critically. + +"Haie! haie!" she said. "That good Chinfeather has not quite eradicated +our gaucherie, it seems. We are deficient in ease and aplomb. What is +the name of that Frenchwoman, Agnes, who 'finished' Lady Kinbuck's +girls?" + +"You mean Madame Delclos." + +"The same. Look out her address to-morrow, and remind me that you write +to her. If mademoiselle here remain in England, she will grow up weedy, +and will never learn to carry her shoulders properly. Besides, the child +has scarcely two words to say for herself. A little Parisian training +may prove beneficial. At her age a French girl of family would be a +little duchess in bearing and manners, even though she had never been +outside the walls of her pension. How is such an anomaly to be accounted +for? It is possible that the atmosphere may have something to do with +it." + +Here was fresh food for wonder, and for such serious thought as my age +admitted of. I was to be sent to a school in France! I could not make up +my mind whether to be sorry or glad. In truth, I was neither wholly the +one nor the other; the tangled web of my feelings was something +altogether beyond my skill to unravel. + +Lady Chillington sipped her wine absently awhile; Sister Agnes was busy +with some fine needlework; and I was striving to elaborate a giant and +his attendant dwarf out of the glowing embers and cavernous recesses of +the wood fire, while there was yet an underlying vein of thought at work +in my mind which busied itself desultorily with trying to piece together +all that I had ever heard or read of life in a French school. + +"You can run away now, little girl. You are de trop," said her ladyship, +turning on me in her abrupt fashion. "And you, Agnes, may as well read +to me a couple of chapters out of the 'Girondins.' What a wonderful man +was that Robespierre! What a giant! Had he but lived, how different the +history of Europe would have been from what we know it to-day." + +I could almost have kissed her ladyship of my own accord, so pleased was +I to get away. I made my curtsey to her, and also to Sister Agnes, whose +only reply was a sweet, sad smile, and managed to preserve my dignity +till I was out of the room. But when the door was safely closed behind +me, I ran, I flew along the passages till I reached the housekeeper's +room. Dance was not there, neither had candles yet been lighted. The +bright moonlight pouring in through the window gave me a new idea. + +I had not yet been down to look at the river! What time could be better +than the present one for such a purpose? I had heard some of the elder +girls at Park Hill talk of the delights of boating by moonlight. Boating +in the present case was out of the question, but there was the river +itself to be seen. Taking my hat and scarf, I let myself out by a side +door, and then sped away across the park like a hunted fawn, not +forgetting to take an occasional bite at her ladyship's pear. To-night, +for a wonder, my mind seemed purged of all those strange fears and +stranger fancies engendered in it, some people would say, by +superstition, while others would hold that they were merely the effects +of a delicate nervous organisation and over-excitable brain re-acting +one upon the other. Be that as it may, for this night they had left me, +and I skipped on my way as fearlessly as though I were walking at +mid-day, and with a glorious sense of freedom working within me, such, +only in a more intense degree, as I had often felt on our rare holidays +at school. + +There was a right of public footpath across one corner of the park. +Tracking this narrow white ribbon through the greensward, I came at +length to a stile which admitted me into the high road. Exactly opposite +was a second stile, opening on a second footpath, which I felt sure +could lead to nowhere but the river. Nor was I mistaken. In another five +minutes I was on the banks of the Adair. + +To my child's eye, the scene was one of exquisite beauty. To-day, I +should probably call it flat and wanting in variety. The equable +full-flowing river was lighted up by a full and unclouded moon. The +undergrowth that fringed its banks was silver-foliaged; silver-white +rose the mists in the meadows. Silence everywhere, save for the low +liquid murmur of the river itself, which seemed burdened with some love +secret, centuries old, which it was vainly striving to tell in +articulate words. + +The burden of the beauty lay upon me and saddened me. I wandered slowly +along the bank, watching the play of moonlight on the river. Suddenly I +saw a tiny boat that was moored to an overhanging willow, and floated +out the length of its chain towards the middle of the stream. I looked +around. Not a creature of any kind was visible. Then I thought to +myself: "How pleasant it would be to sit out there in the boat for a +little while. And surely no one could be angry with me for taking such a +liberty--not even the owner of the boat, if he were to find me there." + +No sooner said than done. I went down to the edge of the river and drew +the boat inshore by the chain that held it. Then I stepped gingerly in, +half-frightened at my own temerity, and sat down. The boat glided slowly +out again to the length of its chain and then became motionless. But it +was motionless only for a moment or two. A splash in the water drew my +attention to the chain. It had been insecurely fastened to a branch of +the willow; my weight in the boat had caused it to become detached and +fall into the water, and with horrified eyes I saw that I had now no +means of getting back to the shore. Next moment the strength of the +current carried the boat out into mid-stream, and I began to float +slowly down the river. + +I sat like one paralysed, unable either to stir or speak. The willows +seemed to bow their heads in mocking farewell as I glided past them. I +heard the faint baying of a dog on some distant farm, and it sounded +like a death-note in my frightened ears. Suddenly the spell that had +held me was loosened, and I started to my feet. The boat heeled over, +and but for a sudden instinctive movement backward I should have gone +headlong into the river, and have ended my troubles there and then. The +boat righted itself, veered half-round and then went steadily on its way +down the stream. I sank on my knees and buried my face in my hands, and +began to cry. When I had cried a little while it came into my mind that +I would say my prayers. So I said them, with clasped hands and wet eyes; +and the words seemed to come from me and affect me in a way that I had +never experienced before. As I write these lines I have a vivid +recollection of noticing how blurred and large the moon looked through +my tears. + +My heart was now quieted a little; I was no longer so utterly +overmastered by my fears. I was recalled to a more vivid sense of earth +and its realities by the low, melancholy striking of some village clock. +I gazed eagerly along both banks of the river; but although the moon +shone so brightly, neither house nor church nor any sign of human +habitation was visible. When the clock had told its last syllable, the +silence seemed even more profound than before. I might have been +floating on a river that wound through a country never trodden by the +foot of man, so entirely alone, so utterly removed from all human aid, +did I feel myself to be. + +I drew the skirt of my frock over my shoulders, for the night air was +beginning to chill me, and contrived to regain the seat I had taken on +first entering the boat. Whither would the river carry me, was the +question I now put to myself. To the sea, doubtless. Had I not been +taught at school that sooner or later all rivers emptied themselves into +the ocean? The immensity of the thought appalled me. It seemed to chill +the beating of my heart; I grew cold from head to foot. Still the boat +held its course steadily, swept onward by the resistless current; still +the willows nodded their fantastic farewells. Along the level meadows +far and wide the white mist lay like a vast winding-sheet; now and then +through the stillness I heard, or seemed to hear, a moan--a mournful +wail, as of some spirit just released from earthly bonds, and forced to +leave its dear ones behind. The moonlight looked cruel, and the water +very, very cold. Someone had told me that death by drowning was swift +and painless. Those stars up there were millions of miles away; how long +would it take my soul, I wondered, to travel that distance--to reach +those glowing orbs--to leave them behind? How glorious such a journey, +beyond all power of thought, to track one's way among the worlds that +flash through space! In the world I should leave there would be one +person only who would mourn for me--Sister Agnes, who would--But what +noise was that? + +A noise, low and faint at first, just taking the edge of silence with a +musical murmur that seemed to die out for an instant now and again, then +coming again stronger than before, and so growing by fine degrees louder +and more confirmed, and resolving itself at last into a sound which +could not be mistaken for that of anything but falling water. The sound +was clearly in front of me; I was being swept resistlessly towards it. A +curve of the river and a swelling of the banks hid everything from me. +The sound was momently growing louder, and had distinctly resolved +itself into the roar and rush of some great body of water. I shuddered +and grasped the sides of the boat with both hands. + +Suddenly the curve was rounded, and there, almost in front of me, was a +mass of buildings, and there, too, spanning the river, was what looked +to me like a trellis-work bridge, and on the bridge was a human figure. +The roar and noise of the cataract were deafening, but louder than all +was my piercing cry for help. He who stood on the bridge heard it. I saw +him fling up his hands as if in sudden horror, and that was the last +thing I did see. I sank down with closed eyes in the bottom of the boat, +and my heart went up in a silent cry to Heaven. Next moment I was swept +into Scarsdale Weir. The boat seemed to glide from under me; my head +struck something hard; the water overwhelmed me, seized on me, dashed me +here and there in its merciless arms; a noise as of a thousand cataracts +filled my ears for a moment; and then I recollect nothing more. + +(_To be continued._) + + + + +SONNET. + + + Wouldst thou be happy, friend, forget, forget. + A curse--no blessing--Memory, thou art; + The very torment of a human heart. + Ah! yes, I thought, I still am young; and let + My heart but beat, I can be happy yet. + Upon a friendly face clear shone the light; + Without, low moaned the mountain's winds, and night + Closed our warm home--sad words of fond regret. + A voice which in my ear no more shall ring; + A look estranged in hate like lightning came, + My very soul within me died as flame + By strong wind spent. It was not grief, for dead + Was grief; nor love, for love in wrath had fled; + It was of both the last undying sting! + +JULIA KAVANAGH. + + + + +THE BRETONS AT HOME. + +BY CHARLES W. WOOD, F.R.G.S., AUTHOR OF "THROUGH HOLLAND," "LETTERS +FROM MAJORCA," ETC. ETC. + + +The long grey walls, the fortifications, the church towers and steeples, +the clustering roofs of St. Malo came into view. + +It is a charming sight after the long and often unpleasant night journey +which separates St. Malo from Southampton. The boats leave much to be +desired, and the sea very often, like Shakespeare's heroine, needs +taming, but, unlike that heroine, will not be tamed, charm we never so +wisely. As a rule, however, one is not in a mood to charm. + +[Illustration: A BRETON MAIDEN.] + +The Company are not accommodating. There are private cabins on board +holding four, badly placed, uncomfortable, possessing the single +advantage of privacy; but these managers would have them empty rather +than allow two passengers to occupy one of them under the full fare of +four. This is unamiable and exacting. In crowded times it may be all +very right, but on ordinary occasions they would do well to follow the +example of the more generous Norwegians, who place their state cabins +holding four at the disposal of anyone paying the fare of three +passengers. + +After the long night-passage it is delightful to steam into the harbour +of St. Malo. If the sea has been rough and unkindly, you at once pass +from Purgatory to Paradise, with a relief those will understand who have +experienced it. The scene is very charming. The coast, broken and +undulating, is rich and fertile; very often hazy and dreamy; the +landscape is veiled by a purple mist which reminds one very much of the +Irish lakes and mountains. + +Across the water lies Dinard, with its lovely views, its hilly +thoroughfares, its English colony and its French patois. But the boat, +turning the point, steams up the harbour and Dinard falls away. St. Malo +lies ahead on the left, enclosed in its ancient grey walls, which +encircle it like a belt; and on the right, farther away, rise the towers +and steeples of St. Servan, also of ancient celebrity. + +On the particular morning of which I write, as we steamed up the harbour +towards our moorings, the quays looked gay and lively, the town very +picturesque. It is so in truth, though some of its picturesqueness is +the result of antiquity, dirt and dilapidation. But the fresh green +trees lining the quay looked bright and youthful; a contrast with the +ancient grey walls that formed their background. Vessels were loading +and unloading, people hurried to and fro; many had evidently come down +to see the boat in, and not a few were unmistakably English. + +Here and there in the grey walls were the grand imposing gateways of the +town. Above the walls rose the quaint houses, roof above roof, gable +beside gable, tier beyond tier. + +At the end of the quay the old Castle brought the scene to a fine +conclusion. It was built by Anne of Brittany, and dates from the +sixteenth century. One of its towers bears the singular motto or +inscription: _Qui qu'en grogne, ainsi sera, c'est mon plaisir_: which +seems to suggest that the illustrious lady owned a determined will and +purpose. It is now turned into barracks; a lordly residence for the +simple paysans who swelled the ranks of the Breton regiment occupying it +at the time of which I write. They are said to be the best fighting +soldiers in France, these Bretons. Of a low order of development, +physically and mentally, they yet have a stubborn will which carries +them through impossible hardships. They may be conquered, but they never +yield. + +The walk round the town upon the walls is extremely interesting. +Gradually making way, the scene changes like the shifting slides of a +panorama. Now the harbour lies before you, with its busy quays, its +docks, its small crowd of shipping; very crowded we have never seen it. +The old Castle rises majestically, looking all its three centuries of +age and royal dignity; its four towers unspoilt by restoration. + +Onward still and the walls rise sheer out of the rocks and the water. At +certain tides, the sea dashes against them and breaks back upon itself +in froth and foam and angry boom. Sight and sound are a wonderful nerve +tonic. Countless rocks rise like small islands in every direction, +stretching far out to sea. On a calm day it is all lovely beyond the +power of words. The sky is blue and brilliant with sunshine. The sea +receives the dazzling rays and returns them in a myriad flashes. The +water seems to have as many tints as the rainbow, and they are as +changing and beautiful and intangible. A distant vessel, passing slowly +with all her sails set, almost becalmed, suggests a dreamy and +delicious existence that has not its rival. The coast of Normandy +stretches far out of sight. In the distance are the Channel Islands, +visible possibly on a clear day and with a strong glass. I know not how +that may be. + +Turn your gaze, and you have St. Malo lying within its grey walls. The +sea on the right is all freedom and broad expanse; the town on the left +is cabin'd, cribb'd, confin'd. Extremes meet here, as they often do +elsewhere. + +It is a succession of slanting roofs, roof above roof, street beyond +street. Many of the houses are very old and form wonderful groups, full +of quaint gables and dormer windows, whilst the high roofs slant upwards +and fall away in picturesque outlines. An artist might work here for +years and still find fresh material to his hand. The streets are narrow, +steep and tortuous; the houses, crowding one upon another, are many +stories high; not a few seem ready to fall with age and decay. Only have +patience, and all yields to time. + +On one of the islets is the tomb of Chateaubriand, who was born in St. +Malo and lived here many years. It was one of his last wishes to be +buried where the sea, for ever playing and plashing around him, would +chant him an everlasting requiem. Many will sympathise with the feeling. +No scene could be more in accordance with the solemnity of death, the +long waiting for the "eternal term;" more in unison with the pure spirit +that could write such a prose-poem as _Atala_. + +Nothing could have been lovelier than the day of our arrival at St. +Malo; the special day of which I write; for St. Malo has seen our coming +and going many times and in all weathers. + +The crossing had been calm as a lake. Even H.C., who would sooner brave +the tortures of a Spanish Inquisition than the ocean in its angry moods, +and who has occasionally landed after a rough passage in an expiring +condition: even H.C. was impatient to land and break his fast at the +liberal table of the Hotel de France--very liberal in comparison with +the Hotel Franklin. We had once dined at the table d'hote of the +Franklin, and found it a veritable Barmecide's feast, from which we got +up far more hungry than we had sat down; a display so mean that we soon +ceased to wonder that only two others graced the board with ourselves, +and they, though Frenchmen, strangers to the place. The Hotel de France +was very different from this; if it left something to be desired in the +way of refinement, it erred on the side of abundance. + +Therefore, on landing this morning, we gave our lighter baggage in +charge of the porter of the hotel, who knew us well, and according to +his wont, gave us a friendly greeting. "Monsieur visite encore St. +Malo," said he, "et nous apporte le beau temps. Soyez le bienvenu!" This +was not in the least familiar--from a Frenchman. + +[Illustration: ST. MALO.] + +We went on to the custom-house, and as we had nothing to declare the +inspection was soon over. H.C. had left all his tea and cigars behind +him at the Waterloo Station, in a small hand-bag which he had put down +for a moment to record a sudden fine phrenzy of poetical inspiration. +Besides tea and cigars, the bag contained a copy of his beloved "Love +Lyrics," without which he never travels, and a bunch of lilies of the +valley, given him at the moment of leaving home by Lady Maria; an +amiable but aesthetical aunt, who lives on crystallised violets, and +spends her time in endeavouring to convert all the young men of her +acquaintance who go in for muscular Christianity to her aesthetical way +of thinking. + +Leaving the custom-house, we crossed the quay, the old castle in front +of us, and passing through the great gateway, immediately found +ourselves at the Place Chateaubriand and the Hotel de France. For the +hotel forms part of the building in which Chateaubriand lived. + +We had a very short time to devote to St. Malo. A long journey still lay +before us, for we wished to reach Morlaix that night. There was the +choice of taking the train direct, or of crossing by boat to Dinard, and +so joining the train from St. Malo, which reached Dinan after a long +round. The latter seemed preferable, since it promised more variety, +though shortening our stay at the old town. But, as Madame wisely +remarked, it would give us sufficient time for luncheon, and an extra +hour or so in St. Malo could not be very profitably spent. + +So before long we were once more going down the quay, in company with +the porter--whose lamentations at our abrupt departure were no doubt +sincere as well as politic--and a truck carrying our goods and chattels. +As yet, they were modest in number and respectable in appearance. H.C. +had not commenced his raid upon the old curiosity shops; had not yet +encumbered himself with endless packages, from deal boxes containing old +silver, to worm-eaten, fourteenth century carved-wood monks and +madonnas, carefully wrapped in brown paper, and bound head, hand and +foot (where these essentials were not missing) with cord. All this came +in due time, but to-day we were still dignified. + +We passed without the walls and went down the quay. All our surroundings +were gay and brilliant. Everything was life and movement, the life and +movement of a Continental town. The "gentle gales" wooed the trees, and +the trees made music in the air. The sun shone as it can only shine out +of England. The sky, wearing its purest blue, was flecked with white +clouds pure as angels' wings. The boat we had recently left was +discharging cargo, and her steam was quietly dying down. + +Four old women--each must have been eighty, at least--were seated on a +bench, knitting and smiling and looking as placid and contented as if +the world and the sunshine had been made for them alone, and it was +their duty to enjoy it to the utmost. It was impossible to sketch them: +Time and Tide wait for no man, and even now the whistle of the Dinard +boat might be heard shrieking its impatient warning round the corner: +but we took the old women with an instantaneous camera, and with +wonderful result. It was all over before they had time to pose and put +on expressions; and when they found they had been photographed, they +thought it the great event of their lives. The mere fact is sufficient +with these good folk; possession of the likeness is a very secondary +consideration. We left them crooning and laughing and casting admiring +glances after H.C.--even at eighty years of age: possibly with a sigh to +their lost youth. + +Then we turned where the walls bend round and came in sight of the boat, +steaming alongside the small stone landing-place and preparing for +departure. + +The passengers were not numerous. A few men and women; the latter with +white caps and large baskets, who had evidently been over to St. Malo +for household purposes, and were returning with the resigned air--it is +very pathetic--that country women are so fond of wearing when they have +been spending money and lessening the weight of the stocking which +contains their treasured hoard. + +We mounted the bridge, which, being first-class and an extra two or +three sous, was deserted. These thrifty people would as soon think of +burning down their cottages, as of wasting two sous in a useless +luxury--all honour to them for the principle. But we, surveying human +nature from an elevation, felt privileged to philosophise. + +And if this human nature was interesting, what about the natural world +around us? The boat loosed its moorings when time was up, and the grey +walls of St. Malo receded; the innumerable roofs, towers and steeples +grew dreamy and indistinct, dissolved and disappeared. The water was +still blue and calm and flashing with sunlight. To the right lay the +sleeping ocean; ahead of us, Dinard. Land rose on all sides; bays and +creeks ran upwards, out of sight; headlands, rich in verdure, +magnificently wooded; houses standing out, here lonely and solitary, +there clustering almost into towns and villages; the mouth of the Rance, +leading up to Dol and Dinan, which some have called the Rhine of France, +and everyone must think a stream lovely and romantic. + +Most beautiful of all seemed Dinard, which we rapidly approached. In +twenty minutes we had passed into the little harbour beyond the pier. It +was quite a bustling quay, with carriages for hire, and men with barrows +touting noisily for custom, treading upon each other's heels in the race +for existence; cafes and small hotels in the background. + +Having plenty of time, we preferred to walk to the station, and +consigned our baggage to the care of a deaf and dumb man, who +disappeared with everything like magic, left us high and dry upon the +quay to follow more leisurely, and to hope that we were not the victims +of misplaced confidence. It looked very much like it. + +A steep climb brought us to the heights of Dinard. Nothing could be more +romantic. Here were no traces of antiquity; everything was aggressively +modern; all beauty lay in scenery and situation. Humble cottages +embowered in roses and wisteria; stately chateaux standing in large +luxuriant gardens flaming with flowers, proudly secluded behind great +iron gates. At every opening the sea, far down, lay stretched before +us. Precipitous cliffs, rugged rocks where flowers and verdure grew in +wild profusion, led sheer to the water's edge. Land everywhere rose in a +dreamy atmosphere; St. Malo and St. Servan across the bay in the +distance. It was a wealth of vegetation; trees in full foliage, masses +of gorgeous flowers, that you had only to stretch out your hand and +gather; the blue sky over all. A scene we sometimes realise in our +dreams, rarely in our waking hours--as we saw it that day. On the +far-off water below small white-winged boats looked as shadowy and +dreamy as the far-off fleecy clouds above. + +But we could not linger. We passed away from the town and the sea and +found ourselves in the country--the station seemed to escape us like a +will-o'-the-wisp. Presently we came to where two roads met--which of +them led to the station? No sign-post, no cottage. We should probably +have taken the wrong one--who does not on these occasions?--when happily +a priest came in sight, with stately step and slow reading his breviary. +Of him we asked the way, and he very politely set us right, in French +that was refreshing after the patois around us--he was evidently a +cultivated man; and offered to escort us. + +As this was unnecessary, we thanked him and departed; and, arriving soon +after at the station, found our deaf and dumb porter had not played us +false. He was cunning enough to ask us three times his proper fare, and +when we gave him half his demand seemed surprised at so much liberality. +Conversation had to be carried on with paper and pencil, and by signs +and tokens. + +The train started after a great flourish of trumpets. We had a journey +of many hours before us through North Brittany; for Brittany is a +hundred years behind the rest of France, and however slow the trains may +be in Fair Normandy they are still slower in the Breton Provinces. In +due time we reached Dinan, when we joined the train that had come round +from St. Malo. + +Nothing in Brittany is more lovely and striking than the situation of +Dinan. It overlooks the Rance, and from the train we looked down into an +immense valley. + +Everywhere the eye rested upon a profusion of wild uncultivated verdure. +The granite cliffs were steep and wooded. Far in the depths "the sacred +river ran." A few boats and barges sailing up and down, passed under the +lovely viaduct; Brittany peasant girls were putting off from the shallow +bank with small cargoes of provisions, evidently coming from some +market. Under the rugged cliffs ran a long row of small, unpretending +houses, level with the river; a paradise sheltered, one would think, +from all the winds of heaven: yet even here, no doubt, the east wind +finds a passage for its sharp tooth to warp the waters. + +[Illustration: ST. MALO.] + +Further on one caught sight of an old church, evidently in the hands of +the Philistines, under process of restoration, and an ancient +monastery. The town crowned the cliffs, but very little could be seen +beyond churches and steeples. We left it to a future time. + +The train went through beautiful and undulating country until it reached +Lamballe, picturesquely placed on the slope of a hill watered by a small +stream, and crowned by the ancient and romantic ruins of the Castle +which belonged to the Counts of Penthievre, and was dismantled by +Cardinal Richelieu. A fine Gothic building, of which we easily traced +the outlines. The present church of Notre Dame was formerly the chapel +of the Castle. + +Here we longed to explore, but it did not enter into our plans. So, +also, the interesting town of Guingamp had to be passed over for the +present. + +For we were impatient to see Morlaix. Having heard much of its +picturesqueness and antiquity, we hoped for great things. Yet our +experiences began in an adventurous and not very agreeable manner. + +Darkness had fallen when we reached the old town, after a long and +tedious journey. Nothing is so tiring as a slow train, which crawls upon +the road and lingers at every station. Of Morlaix we could see nothing. +We felt ourselves rumbling over a viaduct which seemed to reach the +clouds, and far down we saw the lights of the town shining like stars; +so that, with the stars above, we seemed to be placed between two +firmaments; but that was all. Everything was wrapped in gloom and +mystery. The train steamed into the station and its few lights only +rendered darkness yet more visible. The passengers stumbled across the +line in a small flock to the point of exit. + +We had been strongly recommended to the Hotel d'Europe, as strongly +cautioned against any other; but we found that the omnibus was not at +the station; nor any flys; nothing but the omnibus of a small hotel we +had never heard of, in charge of a conductor, rough, uncivil, and less +than half sober. + +This conductor--who was also the driver--declined to take us to any +other hotel than his own; would listen to no argument or reason. Had he +been civil, we might have accepted the situation, but it seemed evident +that an inn employing such a man was to be avoided. Unwilling to be +beaten, we sought the station-master and his advice. + +"Why is the omnibus of the Hotel d'Europe not here?" we asked. + +"No doubt the hotel is full. It is the moment of the great fair, you +know." + +But we did not know. We knew of Leipzig Fair by sad experience, of +Bartholomew Fair by tradition, of the Fair of Novgorod by hearsay; but +of Morlaix Fair we had never heard. + +"What is the fair?" we asked, with a sinking heart. + +"The great Horse Fair," replied the station-master. "Surely you have +heard of it? No one ever visits Morlaix at the time of the fair unless +he comes to buy or sell horses." + +Having come neither to buy nor sell horses, we felt crushed, and hoped +for the deluge. I proposed to re-enter the train and let it take us +whither it would--it mattered not. H.C. calmly suggested suicide. + +"What is to be done?" he groaned. "The man refuses to take us to the +Hotel d'Europe. He is not sober; it is useless to argue with him." + +"The fair again," laughed the official. "It is responsible for +everything just now, and Bretons are not the most sober people at the +best of times. Still, if you wish to go to the Hotel d'Europe, the man +must take you. There is no other conveyance and he is bound to do so. +But I warn you that it will be full, or the omnibus would have been +here." + +Turning to the man, he threatened to report him, gave him his orders, +and said he should inquire on the morrow how they had been carried out. +We struggled into the omnibus, which was already fairly packed with men +who looked very much like horsedealers, the surly driver slammed the +door, and the station-master politely bowed us away. + +The curtain dropped upon Act I.; Comedy or Tragedy as the event might +prove. + +It soon threatened to be Tragedy. The omnibus tore down a steep hill as +if the horses as well as the driver had been indulging, swayed from side +to side and seemed every moment about to overturn. Now the passengers +were all thrown to the right of the vehicle, now to the left, and now +they all collided in the centre. The enraged driver was having his +revenge upon us, and we repented our boldness in trusting our lives in +his hands. But the sturdy Bretons accepted the situation so calmly that +we felt there must still be a chance of escape. + +So it proved. In due time it drew up at the Hotel d'Europe with the +noise of an artillery waggon, and out came M. Hellard, the landlord. His +appearance, with his white hair and benevolent face, was sufficient to +recommend him, to begin with. We felt we had done wisely, and made known +our wants. + +"I am very sorry," he replied, "but, gentlemen, I am quite full. There +is not a vacant room in the hotel from roof to basement." + +"Put us anywhere," we persisted, for it would never do to be beaten at +last: "the coal-cellar; a couple of cupboards; anything; but don't send +us away." + +The landlord looked puzzled. He had a tall, fine presence and a handsome +face; not in the least like a Frenchman. "I assure you that I have +neither hole nor corner nor cupboard at your disposal," he declared. "I +have sent away a dozen people in the last hour who arrived by the last +train. Why did you not send me word you were coming?" + +"We are only two, not a dozen," we urged. "And we knew nothing of this +terrible Fair, or we should not have come at all. But as we are here, +here we must remain." + +With that we left the omnibus and went into the hall, enjoying the +landlord's perplexed attitude. But when did a case of this sort ever +fail to yield to persuasion? The last resource has very seldom been +reached, however much we may think it; and an emergency begets its own +remedy. The remedy in this instance was the landlady. Out she came at +the moment from her bureau, all gestures and possibilities; we felt +saved. + +"Mon cher," she exclaimed--not to H.C., but to her spouse--"don't send +the gentlemen away at this time of night, and consign them to you know +not what fate. Something can be managed. _Tenez_!" with uplifted hands +and an inspiration, "ma bouchere! Mon cher, ma bouchere!" (Voice, +exclamation, gesture, general inspiration, the whole essence would +evaporate if translated.) "Ma bouchere has two charming rooms that she +will be delighted to give me. It is only a cat's jump from here," she +added, turning to us; "you will be perfectly comfortable, and can take +your meals in the hotel. To-morrow I shall have rooms for you." + +So the luggage was brought down; the landlord went through a passage at +arms with the driver, who demanded double fare, and finally went off +with nothing but a promise of punishment. We had triumphed, and thought +our troubles were over: they had only begun. + +Our remaining earthly desire was for strong tea, followed by repose. We +had had very little sleep the previous night on board the boat, and the +day had been long and tiring. + +"The tea immediately; but you will have to wait a little for the rooms," +said Madame. "My bouchere is at the theatre to-night; we must all have a +little distraction sometimes; it will be over a short quarter of an +hour, and then I will send to her." + +Madame was evidently a woman of capacity. The short quarter of an hour +might be profitably spent in consuming the tea: after that--a delicious +prospect of rest, for which we longed as the Peri longed for Paradise. + +"Meanwhile, perhaps messieurs will walk into the cafe of the hotel, +awaiting their rooms," said the landlord. + +"Where tea shall be served," concluded Madame, giving directions to a +waiter who stood by, a perfect Image of Misery, his face tied up after +the fashion of the French nation suffering from toothache and a +_fluxion_. + +"But the fire is out in the kitchen," objected Misery, in the spirit of +Pierrot's friend. + +"Then let it be re-lighted," commanded Madame. "At such times as these, +the fire has not the right to be out." + +Monsieur marshalled us into the cafe, a large long room forming part of +the hotel; by no means the best waiting-place after a long and tiring +day. It was hot, blazing with gas, clouded with smoke--the usual French +smoke, worse than the worst of English tobacco. The room was crowded, +the noise pandemonium. Card playing occupied some tables, dominoes +others. The company was very much what might be expected at a Horse +Fair: loud, familiar, slightly inclined to be quarrelsome; no nerves. +Our host joined a card table, evidently taking up his game where our +arrival had interrupted it. He soon became absorbed and forgot our +existence; our hope was in Madame. + +[Illustration: MORLAIX.] + +We waited in patience; the short quarter of an hour developed into a +long half-hour, when tea arrived: small cups, small tea pot, usual +strainer, straw-coloured infusion; still, it just saved our reason. H.C. +felt that he should never write another line of poetry; the tobacco +fumes had taken an opium effect upon me, and I began to see visions and +imagined ourselves in Dante's Inferno. We looked with mild reproach at +the waiter. He quite understood; a guilty conscience needed no words; +and explained that the chef had let out the fire. As the chef was at +that moment in the cafe playing cards, as absorbed and excited as +anyone, no wonder that he had forgotten his ordinary duties. + +"And our rooms?" we asked. "Are they ready?" + +"The theatre is not yet over," replied the waiter. "Madame is on the +look-out. The play is extra long to-night in honour of the fair." + +That miserable fair! + +The tea revived us: it always does. "I feel less like expiring," +murmured H.C., with a tremulous sigh. "But this place is like a furnace +seven times heated, and the noise is pandemonium in revolt. What would +Lady Maria think of this? Why need that frivolous butcher-woman have +gone to the theatre to-night of all nights in the year? And why need all +these people have stayed away from it? Why is everything upside down and +cross and contrary? And why are we here at all?" + +H.C. was evidently on the verge of brain fever. + +We waited; there was nothing else for it. It was torture; but others +have been tortured before now; and some have survived, and some have +died of it. We felt that we should die of it. Half past eleven had come +and gone; midnight was about to strike. Oh that we had gone on with that +wretched omnibus, no matter what the end. Yes; it had come to that. + +At last human nature could bear it no longer: we appealed to the +landlord. He looked up from his game, flushed, startled and repentant. + +"What! have they not taken you to the bouchere!" he exclaimed. "Why the +theatre was over long ago, and no doubt everything is arranged. You +shall be conducted at once." + +Misery, looking himself more dead than alive (he informed us presently +in an access of confidence that he had had four teeth taken out that day +and felt none the better for it), was told off to act as guide, and +shouldering such baggage as we needed for the night, stepped forth. We +pitied him, he seemed so completely at the end of all things; and +feeling, by comparison, that there was a deeper depth of suffering than +our own, we revived. His name was not Misery, but Andre. + +Monsieur accompanied us to the door and wished us Good-night. Madame had +disappeared and was nowhere to be found; the lights were out in her +bureau. It looked very much as if she, too, had gone to bed and +forgotten us. "Cette chere dame is tired," said the sympathetic +landlord. "We really have no rest day or night at the time of the fair. +But you may depend upon it she has made it all right with her bouchere." + +So we departed in faith. It was impossible to be angry with Monsieur, +though we felt neglected. He was so unlike the ordinary run of landlords +that one could only repose confidence in him and overlook small +inattentions. He had a way of throwing himself into your interests, and +making them his own for the time being. But I fear that his memory was +very short. + +We departed with thanksgiving, and followed our guide. I cannot say that +we trod in his footsteps, for, too far gone to lift his feet bravely, he +merely shuffled along the pavement. With one hand he supported the +luggage on his shoulder; with the other he carried a candle, ostensibly +to light our pathway, in reality only complicating matters and the +darkness. As we turned round by the hotel, the clocks struck the +witching hour. H.C. shivered and looked about for ghosts. It was really +a very ghostly scene and atmosphere. In spite of the occasion of the +fair, the town was in repose. The theatre was long over; the extra +entertainment on account of the fair had been a mere invention of the +imaginative waiter's; people had very properly gone home to bed, and +lights were out. No noisy groups were abroad, making night hideous with +untimely revelry. + +We formed a strange procession. Our little guide slipped and shuffled, +hardly able to put one foot before the other. He wore house-slippers of +list or wool, and made scarcely any noise as he went along. Every now +and then he groaned in the agonies of toothache; and each time H.C. +shivered and looked back for the ghost. It was excusable, for the candle +threw weird shadows around, which flitted about like phantoms playing at +hide-and-seek. The night was so calm that the flame scarcely flickered. + +In spite of the darkness, we could see how picturesque was the old town, +and we longed for daylight. Against the dark background of sky the yet +darker outlines of the houses stood out mysteriously. We turned into a +narrow street where opposite neighbours might almost have shaken hands +with each other from the upper windows. Wonderful gabled roofs succeeded +each other in a long procession. There seemed not a vestige of anything +modern in the whole thoroughfare. We were in a scene of the Middle Ages, +back in those far-off days. + +Here and there a light shining in a room revealed a large latticed +window, running the whole width of the house. In spite of Andre's +fatigue and burden, we could only stand and gaze. No human power could +mesmerise us, but the window did so. + +What could be more startlingly weird and picturesque than the bright +reflection of these latticed panes, surrounded by this intense darkness, +these mysterious outlines? Almost we expected to see a ghostly vision +advance from the interior, and, opening the lattice with a skeleton +hand, ask our pleasure at thus invading their solitude at the witching +hour--for the vibration of the bells tolling midnight was still upon the +air, travelling into space, perhaps announcing to other worlds that to +us another day was dead, another day was born. + +But no ghost appeared. A very human figure, however, did so. It looked +down upon us for a moment, and mistaking our rapt gaze at the +antiquities--of which it did not form a part--for mere vulgar curiosity, +held up a reproving hand. Then, catching sight of H.C., it darted +forward, looked breathlessly into the night, and seemed also mesmerised +as by a revelation. + +We quietly went our way, leaving the spell to work itself out. Our +footsteps echoed in the silent night, with the running accompaniment of +a double-shuffle from Misery. No other sound broke the stillness; we +were absolutely alone with the ancient houses, the stars and the sky. It +might have been a Mediaeval City of the Dead, unpeopled since the days of +its youth. Our candle burned on in the hand of Andre; our reflections +danced and played about us: one hears of the Dance of Death--this was +the Dance of Ghosts--a natural sequence; ghostly shadows flitted out of +every doorway, down every turning. + +At last we emerged on to an open space, partly filled by a modern +building with a hideous roof, evidently the market place. Here we +ascended to a higher level. Ancient outlines still surrounded us, but +were interrupted by modern ones also. Square roofs and straight lines +broke the continuity of the picturesque gabled roofs and latticed +windows. Ichabod may be written upon the lintels of all that is ancient +and disappearing, all that is modern and hideous. The spirit and beauty +of the past are dead and buried. + +"We are almost there," said Andre, with a sigh that would have been +profound if he had had strength to make it so. "A few more yards and we +arrive." + +We too sighed with relief, though the midnight walk amidst these wonders +of a bygone age had proved refreshing and awakening. But we sympathised +with our guide, who was only kept up by necessity. + +We passed out of the market place again into a narrow street, dark, +silent and gloomy. At the third or fourth house, Andre exclaimed "Nous +voila!" and down went the baggage like a dead-weight in front of a +closed doorway. + +The house was in darkness: no sight or sound could be seen or heard; +everyone seemed wrapped in slumber; a strange condition of things if we +were expected. The man rang the bell: a loud, long peal. No response; no +light, no movement; profound silence. + +"C'est drole!" he murmured. "The theatre" (that everlasting theatre!) +"has been long over and Madame must have returned. Where can she be?" + +"Probably in bed," replied H.C. "We have little chance of following her +excellent example if this is to go on. There must be some mistake, and +we are not expected." + +"Impossible," returned Andre. "La Patrone never forgets anything and +must have arranged it all." He, too, had unlimited confidence in Madame, +but for once it was misplaced. + +[Illustration: GRANDE RUE, MORLAIX.] + +Not only the house, but the whole street was in darkness. Not the ghost +of a glimmer appeared from any window or doorway; not a gas-light from +end to end. Oil lamps ought to have been slung across from house to +house to keep up the character of the thoroughfare; but here, +apparently, consistency was less thought of than economy. We looked and +looked, every moment expecting a cloaked watchman to appear, with +lantern casting weird flashes around and a sepulchral voice calling the +hour and the weather. But _Il Sereno_ of Majorca had no counterpart in +Morlaix; the darkness, silence and solitude remained unbroken. + +We were the sole group of humanity visible, and must have appeared +singular as the still flaring candle lighted up our faces, pale and +anxious from fatigue, threw out in huge proportions the head of our +guide, bound up as if prepared for the grave for which he was fast +qualifying. + +After a time Misery gave another peal at the bell, and, borrowing a +stick, drummed a tattoo upon the door that might have waked the departed +Mediaevals. This at length brought forth fruit. + +A latticed window was opened, a white figure appeared, a nightcapped +head was put forth without ceremony, a feminine voice, sleepy and +indignant, demanded who thus disturbed the sacred silence of the night. + +"The gentlemen are here," said Andre, mildly. "Come down and open the +door. A pretty reception this, for tired travellers." + +"What gentlemen?" asked the voice, which belonged to no less a person +than Madame la bouchere herself. + +"Parbleu! why the gentlemen you are expecting. The gentlemen la Patrone +sent to you about and that you agreed to lodge for the night." + +"Andre--I know your voice, though I cannot see your form--you have been +taking too much, and to-morrow I shall complain to Madame Hellard. How +dare you wake quiet people out of their first sleep?" + +"First sleep! Has la bouchere not been to the theatre?" + +"Theatre, you good-for-nothing! Do I ever join in such frivolities? I +have been in bed and asleep ever since ten o'clock--where you ought to +be at this hour of the night." + +"But la Patrone sent to engage rooms for these gentlemen and you +promised to give them. They have come. Open the door. We cannot stay +here till daybreak." + +"You will stay there till doomsday if it depends on my opening to you. +La Patrone never sent and I never promised. I have only one small empty +bed in my house, and in the other bed in the same room two of my boys +are sleeping. I am very sorry for the gentlemen. My compliments to la +Patrone, and before sending gentlemen to me at midnight, she ought to +find out if I can accommodate them. Good-night to you, and let us have +no more rioting and bell-ringing." + +The nightcapped head was withdrawn, the lattice was sharply closed, and +we were left to make the best of the situation. + +It was serious: nearly one in the morning, the whole town slumbering, +and we "homeless, ragged, and tanned." + +To remain was useless. Not all the ringing and rowing in the world would +bring forth Madame again, though it might possibly produce her avenging +spouse. Andre shouldered his baggage and we began to retrace our steps. + +"Back to the hotel," commanded H.C.; "they must put us up somewhere." + +"Not a hole or corner unoccupied," groaned Andre. "You can't sleep in +the bread oven. And they will all have gone to bed by the time we get +back again." + +Suddenly he halted before a house at the corner of the marketplace. It +looked little better than a common cabaret, and was also closed and +dark. Down went the luggage, as he knocked mysteriously at the shutters. + +"What are you doing?" we said. "You don't suppose that we would put up +here even for an hour." + +"It is clean and respectable," objected Andre. "Messieurs cannot walk +the streets till morning." + +A door was as mysteriously opened, leading into a room. A couple of +candles were burning at a table, round which some rough-looking men were +seated, drinking and playing cards, but keeping silence. It looked +suspicious and uninviting. + +"In fact we might be murdered here," shuddered H.C.: "most certainly we +should be robbed." + +Andre made his request: could they give us lodgment? + +"Not so much as a chair or a bench," answered the woman, to our relief; +for though we should never have entered, Andre might have disappeared +with the baggage and given us some trouble. He evidently had all the +obstinacy of the Breton about him, and was growing desperate. The door +was closed again without ceremony, and once more we were left to make +the best of it. + +This time we took the lead and made for the hotel. Again we passed +through the wonderful street with the overhanging eaves and gables. +Again we paused and lingered, lost in admiration. But the light had +departed from the latticed window, and no doubt in dreams the Fair One +was beholding again the vision of H.C. + +A few minutes more and we stood before the hotel. They were just closing +the doors. Monsieur Hellard was crossing the passage at the moment. +Never shall I forget his consternation. He raised his hands, and his +hair stood on end. + +"What's the matter?" he cried. + +"Matter enough," replied Andre taking up the parable. "Madame never sent +to the bouchere, and the bouchere has no room. And I think"--despair +giving him courage--"it was too bad to give us a wild goose chase at +this time of night." + +"And now you must do your best and put us where you can," I concluded. +"We are too tired to stir another step." + +"I haven't where to lodge a cat," returned the perplexed landlord. "I +cannot do impossibilities. What on earth are we to manufacture?" + +"You have a salon?" + +"Comme de juste!" + +"Is it occupied?" + +"No; but there are no beds there. It stands to reason." + +"Then put down two mattresses on the floor, and we will make the best of +them for to-night. And the sooner you allow us to repose our weary +heads, the more grateful we shall be. It is nearly one o'clock." + +Monsieur seemed convinced, and gave the word of command which sent two +or three waiters flying. Poor Andre was one of them; but we soon +discovered that he was the most willing and obliging man in the world. + +Even now everything was mismanaged and had to be done over again; a +wordy war ensued between landlord, waiters and chambermaids, each one +having an original idea for our comfort and wanting their own way. The +small Bedlam that went on would have been diverting at any other time. +It was very nearly two o'clock before we closed the door upon the world, +and felt that something like peace and repose lay before us. + +The room was not uncomfortable. It had all the stiff luxuriance of a +French salon, and a gilt clock on the mantelpiece ticked loudly and rang +out the hours--too many of which, alas, we heard. On the table were the +remains of a dessert, evidently hastily brought in from the table d'hote +room, which communicated with this by folding doors: dishes of biscuits, +raisins and luscious grapes. + +"At least we can refresh ourselves," sighed H.C., taking up a fine bunch +and offering me another, "Nectar in its primitive state; the drink of +the gods." + +"And of Poets," I added. + +"Talk not of poetry," he cried. "I feel that my vein has evaporated, and +after to-night will never return." + +Very soon, you may be sure, the room was in darkness and repose. + +"The inequalities of the earth's surface are nothing to my bed," groaned +H.C. as he laid himself down. "It is all hills and valleys. I think they +must have put the mattress upon all the brooms and brushes of the hotel, +crossed by all the fire-irons. And that wretched clock ticks on my brain +like a sledge-hammer. I shall not be alive by morning." + +"Have you made your will?" + +"Yes," he replied; "and left you my museum, my shooting-box, all my +unpublished MSS. and the care of my aesthetic aunt, Lady Maria. You will +not find her troublesome; she lives on crystallised violets and barley +water." + +"Mixed blessings," I thought, but was too polite to say so. It must have +been my last thought, for I remembered no more until the clock awoke me, +striking four; and woke me again, striking six; after which sleep +finally fled. + +Soon the town also awoke; doors slammed and echoed; omnibuses and other +vehicles rattled over the stones; voices seemed to fill the air; the +streets echoed with foot-passengers. The sun was shining gloriously and +we threw open the windows to the new day and the fresh breeze, and took +our first look at Morlaix by daylight. Already we felt braced and +exhilarated as we took in deep draughts of oxygen. + +[Illustration: MARKET PLACE, MORLAIX.] + +It was a lively scene. The Square close by was surrounded by gabled +houses, and houses not gabled: a mixture of Ancient and Modern. That it +should be all old was too much to expect, excepting from such sleepy old +towns as Vitre or Nuremberg, where you have unbroken outlines, a +mediaeval picture unspoilt by modern barbarities; may dream and fancy +yourself far back in the ages, and find it difficult indeed to realise +that you are really not in the fifteenth but in the nineteenth century. + +The streets were already beginning to be gay and animated; there was a +look of expectancy and mild excitement on many faces, announcing that +something unusual was going on. It was fair time and fete time; and even +these stolid, sober people were stirred into something like laughter and +enjoyment. Fair Normandy has a good deal of the vivacity of the French; +but Graver Brittany, like England, loves to take its pleasures somewhat +sadly. + +It was a lovely morning. Before us, and beyond the square, stretched the +heights of Morlaix, green and fertile, fruit and flower-laden. To our +left towered the great viaduct, over which the train rolls, depositing +its passengers far, far above the tops of the houses, far above the +tallest steeple. It was a very striking picture, and H.C. shouted for +joy and felt the muse rekindling within him. Upon all shone the glorious +sun, above all was the glorious sky, blue, liquid and almost tangible, +as only foreign skies can be. The fatigues of yesterday, the terrible +adventures of the past night, all were forgotten. Nay, that midnight +expedition was remembered with intense pleasure. All that was +uncomfortable about it had evaporated; nothing remained but a vision +wonderfully unusual, weird, picturesque: grand old-world outlines +standing out in the surrounding darkness; a small procession of three; a +flickering candle throwing out ghostly lights and shadows; a willing but +unhappy waiter dying of exhaustion and pain; a curious figure of Misery +in which there certainly was nothing picturesque, but much to arouse +one's pity and sympathy--the better, diviner part of one's nature. + +"Hurrah for a new day!" cried H.C., turning from the window and +hastening to beautify and adorn. "New scenes, new people, new +impressions! Oh, this glorious world! the delight of living!" + + + + +WHO WAS THE THIRD MAID? + + +It was on a wild October evening about a year ago that my wife and I +arrived by train at a well-known watering-place in the North of England. +The wind was howling and roaring with delight at its resistless power; +the rain came hissing down in large drops. + +On yonder headland doubtless might be heard "The Whistling Woman"--dread +harbinger of death and disaster to the mariner. The gale had been hourly +increasing in violence, till for the last hour before arriving at our +destination we had momentarily expected that the train would be blown +from the track. Our hotel was situated on an eminence overlooking the +town; and as we slowly ascended to it in our cab we thought: "Well, we +must not be surprised to find our intended abode for the night has +vanished." + +However, presently we stopped in front of a building which looked +substantial enough to withstand anything; and in answer to our driver's +application to the bell, the door was promptly opened by a +smartly-attired porter. He was closely followed by a person full of +smiles and bows, who posted himself in the doorway ready to receive us. + +All at once there was a terrific bang, as though a forty-pounder had +been fired to welcome our arrival; and he of the smiles and bows was +hurled headlong against the muddy wheel of our conveyance by the +slamming-to of the large door. My wife's bonnet blew off and tugged hard +at its moorings; the light in the porch was extinguished; while the wind +seemed to give a shriek of triumph at the jokes he was playing upon us. +Here we were, then, in total darkness and exposed to the drenching rain. +However, half-an-hour afterwards all our discomforts were forgotten as +we sat down to an excellent dinner a la carte. + +Next morning I was abroad very early, looking for lodgings. Fortune +seemed to smile upon me on this occasion; for scarcely had I proceeded +fifty yards from my hotel when I came upon a very nice-looking row of +houses, and in the window of the first was "Lodgings to let." Knocking +at the door, it was soon opened by a very neat-looking maid. + +I inquired if I could see the proprietor, but was told that Miss G. was +not yet down. I said I would wait; and was shown into a very +comfortably-furnished dining-room. Soon Miss G. appeared, and proved to +be a pretty brunette of about five-and-twenty, whose dark eyes during +our short interview were every now and then fixed on me with an +intentness that seemed to be trying to read what kind of person I was; +whilst her manner, though decidedly pleasing, had a certain restlessness +in it which I could not help observing. Her father and mother being +both dead, she kept the lodging-house herself. I asked her if she had a +good cook, to which she replied that she was responsible for most of +that difficult part of the menage herself, keeping two maids to assist +in the house and parlour work. She went on to say that her drawing-room +was "dissected:" a term common amongst north country lodging-house +keepers, and meant to express that it was undergoing its autumn +cleaning, but she would have it put straight if I wished. I told her +that we should be quite contented with the dining-room, provided we had +a good bed-room. This she at once showed me, and, soon coming to terms, +I returned to the hotel. + +After breakfast, I went to the bureau to ask for my account. Whilst it +was being made out, I observed casually that I had taken lodgings at +Miss G.'s on Cliff Terrace, upon which the accountant looked quickly up +and said: "Oh, Miss G.'s," and then as quickly went on with my bill. I +hardly noticed this at the moment, though I thought of it afterwards. + +Eleven o'clock saw us comfortably ensconced in our rooms. After lunch, +we took a delightful expedition, the weather having greatly moderated. +We found that night, at dinner, that Miss G. was a first-rate cook, and +we retired to rest much pleased with our quarters. + +We soon made the acquaintance of the two maids, Jane, who waited upon +us, and Mary, the housemaid; and two very pleasant and obliging young +women we found them. + +About the third morning of our stay, on going up to my bed-room after +breakfast, I was surprised to find a strange maid in the room. She was +standing by the bed, smoothing down the bed-clothes with both hands and +appeared to take no notice of me, but continued gazing steadily in front +of her, while her hands went mechanically on smoothing the clothes. I +could not help being struck with her pale face, which wore a look of +pain, and the fixed and almost stony expression of her eyes. I left her +in exactly the same position as I found her. On coming down I said to my +wife: "I did not know Miss G. employed three servants. There certainly +is another making the bed in our room." I am short-sighted, and my wife +would have it I had made a mistake; but I felt quite certain I had not. +Later on, whilst Jane was laying the lunch, I said to her: "I thought +that you and Mary were the only two servants in the house." + +"Yes, sir, only me and Mary," was Jane's reply, as she left the room. + +"There," said my wife, "I told you that you were mistaken." And I did +not pursue the subject further. + +Two or three days slipped away in pleasant occupations, such as driving, +boating, etc., and we had forgotten all about the third maid. We saw but +little of Miss G., though her handiwork was pleasantly apparent in the +cuisine. + +On the sixth morning of our stay, which was the day before we were to +leave, my wife after breakfast said she would go up and do a little +packing whilst I made out our route for the following day in the +Bradshaw; but was soon interrupted by the return of my wife with a +rather scared look on her face. + +"Well," she said, "you were right after all, for there is another maid, +and she is now in our bed-room, and apparently engaged in much the same +occupation as when you saw her there. She took no notice of me, but +stood there with her body slightly bent over the bed, looking straight +in front of her, her hands smoothing the bed-clothes." She described her +as having dark hair, her face very pale, and her mouth very firmly set. +My curiosity was now so much awakened that I determined to question Miss +G. on the subject. But our carriage was now at the door waiting for us +to start on an expedition that would engage us all day. + +On my return, late in the afternoon, meeting Miss G. in the passage, I +said to her: "Who is the third servant that Mrs. K. and myself have seen +once or twice in our bed-room?" + +Miss G. looked, I thought, rather scared, and, murmuring something that +I could not catch, turned and went hurriedly down the stairs into the +kitchen. + +An hour afterwards, as we were sitting waiting for our dinner, Jane +brought a note from Miss G. enclosing her account, and saying that she +had just had a telegram summoning her to the sick-bed of a relation, +that in all probability she would not be back till after our departure, +but that she had left directions with the servants, and hoped they would +make us quite comfortable, and that we would excuse her hurried +departure. + +A few minutes after, a cab drove up to the door, into which, from our +window, we saw Miss G. get, and drive rapidly away. + +Later on in the evening, whilst Jane was clearing away the dinner +things, I said to her: "By-the-by, Jane, who is the third maid?" She was +just going to leave the room as I spoke; instead of replying she turned +round with such a scared look on her face that I felt quite alarmed, +then, hurriedly catching up her tray, she left the room. Thinking that +further inquiry would be very disagreeable to her, I forbore again +mentioning the subject. Next day, our week being up, we departed for +fresh woods and pastures new. + + * * * * * + +Our tour led us considerably further north, but a month later saw us +homeward bound. The nearest route by rail led us by X. As we drew up at +the station we noticed on the platform a parson, in whom we recognised +one of the clergy of X., whose church we had been to. Presently the door +of our compartment was opened and he put in a lady, wished her good-bye, +the guard's whistle blew and we were off. After a short time we fell +into conversation with the lady and found her to be the clergyman's +wife. Amongst other things, we asked after Miss G. + +"Oh, Miss G.," she replied; "she is very well, but I hear, poor thing, +she has not had a very good season." + +"I am sorry to hear that," I replied; "why is it?" She was silent for a +minute and then related to us the following facts. + +At the beginning of the season a rather untoward event occurred at Miss +G.'s lodgings. An elderly lady took one of the flats for a month. She +had with her an attendant of about thirty. Before long Miss G. observed +that they were not on very good terms, and one morning the old lady was +found dead in her bed. + +A doctor was at once called in, who, on viewing the body, found there +were very suspicious marks round the neck and throat, as if a person's +fingers had been tightly pressed upon them. The maid on hearing this at +once became very restless, and going to her bed-room, which was at the +top of the house, packed a small bag and, having put on her things, was +about to descend the stairs when, from hurry or agitation, she missed +her footing and, falling to the bottom, broke her neck. + +But not the least extraordinary part of the business was that not the +slightest clue could be obtained as to who the lady was, the linen of +herself and her maid having only initials marked on it. The police did +their best by advertising and inquiry, but all they could find out was +that they had come straight to X. from Liverpool, where they had arrived +from America. There they were traced to Fifth Avenue Hotel, in New York, +where they had been only known by the number of their room, and to which +they had come from no one knew whither. Enough money was found in the +lady's box to pay the expenses of their funerals. An open verdict was +returned at the inquests which were held. The police took possession of +their belongings and had them, no doubt, at the present moment. + +At this point the train stopped, the lady wished us "Good-morning" and +left the carriage; and we, as we steamed south, were left to meditate on +this strange but perfectly true story and to solve as we best could the +still unanswered question of "Who was the third maid?" + + + + +A MODERN WITCH. + + +I. + +Never shall I forget my first meeting with Irene Latouche. After +travelling all day, I had arrived at my friend Maitland's house to find +that dinner had been over for at least an hour. Having taken the +precaution of dining during the journey this did not affect me very +materially; but my kindly host, who met me in the hall, took it very +much to heart. + +"We quite gave you up, my dear fellow, we did indeed," he reiterated, +grasping my hand with additional fervour each time he made the +assertion. "My wife will be so vexed at your missing dinner. You are +sure you won't have a bit now? Such a haunch of venison, hung to a turn! +One of old Ward's. You know he has taken Glen Bogie this season, and is +having rare sport, I am told. Ah, well, if you really won't take +anything, we had better join the ladies in the drawing-room." + +"But the luggage hasn't come from the station yet," I interposed, "and +my dress clothes are in my portmanteau--" + +"Nonsense about dress clothes! It will be bed-time soon. You don't +suppose anybody cares what you have on, do you?" + +With this comforting assurance, Maitland pushed open the drawing-room +door, and a flood of light streamed out into the hall. Dazzled by the +sudden glare I stepped back, but not before I had caught sight of a most +striking figure at the further end of the long room. + +"Who on earth is that girl?" I whispered. + +"Which? Oh, the one playing the harp, you mean? I might have known that! +A rare beauty, isn't she? I thought you would find her out pretty soon!" + +Now I am a middle-aged bachelor of quiet tastes, and nothing annoys me +more than when my friends poke ponderous fun at me in this fashion. So, +ignoring Maitland's facetious suggestion, I calmly walked forward and +shook hands with my hostess. She greeted me with her customary +cordiality, and in about two minutes I was feeling perfectly at home in +spite of my dusty clothes. I now had an opportunity of examining the +other guests, who were dispersed in groups about the room. Most of them +were people I had frequently met before under the Maitlands' hospitable +roof, but the face which had first arrested my attention was that of an +absolute stranger. + +"I see you are admiring Miss Latouche, like the rest of us," said Mrs. +Maitland in a low voice. "Such a talented girl! She can play positively +any kind of instrument, and has persuaded me to have the old harp taken +out of the lumber-room and put in order for her. She looks so well +playing it, doesn't she? Quite like Cleopatra or the Queen of Sheba!" + +"She is undoubtedly handsome in a certain style," I replied cautiously. +"I don't know whether I admire such a gipsy type myself--" + +"Ah, you agree with me then," interrupted my hostess eagerly. "I call it +an uncomfortable sort of beauty for a drawing-room. She always looks as +if she might produce a dagger at a moment's notice, as the people do in +operas. Give me a nice simple girl with a pretty English face, like my +niece Lily Wallace over there! But I am bound to say Miss Latouche makes +a great sensation wherever she goes. Of course she has wonderful +powers." + +I was about to inquire in what these powers consisted, when Mrs. +Maitland was called away. Left to myself, I could not repress a smile at +the comparison she had instituted between her own niece and the +beautiful stranger. Lily was well enough, a good-tempered pink and white +girl, who in twenty years' time would develop into just such another +florid matron as her aunt. And then I looked again at Miss Latouche. + +She was seated a little apart from the rest, one white arm hanging +listlessly over the harp upon which she had just been playing. Her large +dark eyes had a far-away look of utter abstraction from all sub-lunary +matters that I have never seen in anyone besides. Masses of wavy black +hair were loosely coiled over her head, round a high Spanish comb, and +half concealed her brow in a dusky cloud. At first sight the black +velvet dress, which swept around her in heavy folds, seemed rather an +unsuitable costume for so young a girl. But its sombreness was relieved +by a gorgeous Indian scarf, thrown carelessly over the shoulders. I do +not know who was responsible for Miss Latouche's get-up, or if she +really required an extra wrap. At any rate, the combination of colours +was very effective. + +Whilst I was speculating vaguely on the probable character of this +striking young lady, she slowly rose from her low seat and crossed the +room. Her eyes were wide open, but apparently fixed on space, and she +moved with the slow, mechanical motion of a sleepwalker. To my intense +surprise she came straight towards me, and stood in an expectant +attitude about a yard from where I was sitting. Not knowing exactly how +to receive this advance, I jumped up and offered her my chair. She waved +it aside with a gesture of imperial scorn. Her dark eyes positively +flashed fire, and a rich glow flushed her pale olive cheek. I could see +that I had deeply offended her. + +"I must apologise," I began nervously, "but I thought you might be +tired." + +Before the words were fairly spoken, I realised the full imbecility of +this remark. My only excuse for making such a fatuous observation was +that the near vicinity of this weird beauty had paralysed my reasoning +faculties, so that I hardly knew what I was saying. And then she spoke +in a low, rich voice which thrilled me through every nerve. I could not +understand the meaning of her words, or even recognise the language in +which they were spoken. But the tone of her voice was unutterably sad, +like an inarticulate wail of despair. All the time her glorious eyes +were resting on me as if she would read my inmost thoughts, whilst I +responded with an idiotic smile of embarrassment. Even now, after the +lapse of years, it makes me hot all over to think of that moment. + +I don't know how long I had been standing looking like a fool, when Miss +Latouche turned away as abruptly as she had approached and walked +straight to the door. With a sigh of relief I sank down on the despised +chair. After a few moments I gained sufficient courage to glance round +and assure myself that no spectators had witnessed my discomfiture. It +was a great relief to find that the entire party had migrated to the +further end of the room, where a funny little man was singing comic +songs with a banjo accompaniment. I slipped in next my host, who was +thoroughly enjoying the performance. + +"Encore! Capital! Give us some more of it, Tommy," he roared when the +song came to an end. "That's my sort of music, isn't it yours, Carew?" +he added, turning to me. + +"A very clever performance," I answered stiffly, divided between my +natural abhorrence of comic songs and the difficulty of making a candid +reply in the immediate vicinity of the funny man. + +"Just so. That's what I call really clever," said Maitland, not +perceiving my lack of enthusiasm. "Worth a dozen of those melancholy +tunes on the harp, in my opinion. By-the-bye, what's become of Miss +Latouche? Couldn't stand this sort of thing, I suppose. Too merry for +her. What a pity such a handsome girl should mope so." + +"Miss Latouche appears to be rather eccentric," I interposed. "Something +of a genius, I imagine?" + +"So they all say. Well, she is a clever girl, certainly--only--but you +will soon find out what she is like. Here's Tommy going to give us that +capital song about the bad cigar. Ever heard it? No? Ha! ha! It will +make you laugh then." + +That is just what I hate about a comic performance. One laughs under +compulsion. If one is sufficiently independent to resist, one incurs the +suspicion of being wanting in humour and some well-meaning friend feels +bound to explain the joke until one forces a little hollow mirth. +Directly the song was in full swing, and the audience convulsed with +merriment, I seized my opportunity and fled from the drawing-room. In +the library I knew by experience that I should find a good fire and a +comfortable arm-chair, both of which would be acceptable after my long +journey. It was separated from the rest of the house by a heavy baize +door and a long passage, so that I was not likely to be disturbed by +any stray revellers. Several years' experience of the comforts of a +bachelor establishment has given me a great taste for my own society, +and it was with unfeigned delight that I looked forward to a quiet +half-hour in this haven of refuge. + +"Bother Maitland! Why doesn't he have the house better warmed and +lighted," I muttered, as the baize door swung behind me, and the sudden +draught extinguished my candle. I would not go back to relight it for +fear of encountering some officious friend in the hall, who would insist +upon accompanying me into my retreat. I preferred groping my way down +the long corridor, which was in darkness except for a bright streak of +moonlight that streamed in through a window at the further end. I had +just decided that it was my plain duty to give Maitland the address of a +good shop where he could not only procure cheap lamps but also very +serviceable stoves for warming passages, at a moderate price, when I +discovered that the said window was open. + +"Too bad of the servants," I thought; "I should discharge them all if +they were mine. It quite accounts for the howling draught through the +house. Just the thing to give one rheumatism at this time of year." + +Advancing with the intention of excluding the chilly blast, I was +suddenly arrested by the sight of a motionless figure kneeling in front +of the window. It was Irene Latouche. I had not noticed her in the +confusing patch of moonlight until my foot was almost on the heavy +velvet dress which fell over the floor like a great dark pall. Her arms +were resting on the window-sill, her beautiful pale face gazing upwards +with an expression of agonised despair. Evidently she was quite +unconscious of my presence. + +Whilst I was turning over in my mind the possibility of beating a silent +retreat, she gave a low groan, so full of unquenchable pain that my +blood fairly ran cold. Then rising to her feet, she leaned far out into +the chill night air, stretching her white arms up towards the stars with +a passionate action of entreaty. + +"Oh, my Beloved! Shall I ever pray in vain? Is there no mercy?" she +cried, and the sound of her voice was like the wind moaning through +rocky caverns. "My heart is breaking! My strength is almost at an end! +How much longer must I suffer this unspeakable misery?" + +Clearly this sort of thing was not intended for strangers. I stopped my +ears and shrank as closely as I could into the shadow of the wall. But I +could not take my eyes off the girl for a moment. Such an exhibition of +wild passion I have never witnessed before or since. As a dramatic +effort it was superb; but all the time I was distinctly conscious of the +absurd figure I should cut if any third person came on the scene. Also +certain warning twinges in my left shoulder reminded me that I was not +in the habit of standing by open windows on bleak autumn nights. Why +Miss Latouche did not catch her death of cold I cannot imagine; for I +could see the wind disordering her dark masses of hair and blowing back +the Indian scarf from her bare shoulders. But she appeared to be as +indifferent to personal discomfort as she was to all external sounds. + +Just as I had settled that my health would never survive such a wanton +infringement of all sanitary laws, Irene again sank on her knees and +buried her face in her hands. Now was my time. I crept noiselessly back +up the corridor until my hand was actually on the baize door. Then +excitement got the better of prudence; and, tearing it open, I rushed +wildly across the hall and up the staircase, never pausing until I was +safe in my own room, with the door locked behind me and the unlighted +bed-room candle still clutched firmly in my hand. + + +II. + +Now, having already mentioned that I am a person of regular and strictly +conventional habits, it will be readily believed that I viewed these +extraordinary proceedings with unmitigated disgust. It was not to +encounter horrid experiences like this that I had left my comfortable +town house, where draughts and midnight adventures were alike unknown. +Before I came down to breakfast on the following morning, I had +fabricated a long story about pressing business which necessitated my +immediate return to town. Though ordinarily of a truthful disposition, I +was prepared to solemnly aver that the success of an important lawsuit +depended on my presence in London within the next twelve hours. I did +not even shrink from the prospect of having to produce circumstantial +evidence to convince Maitland of the truth of my assertion. Anything +rather than undergo any further shocks to my nervous system. + +Happily I was spared the necessity of perjuring myself to this extent. +When the breakfast bell rang, I descended and found that as usual very +few of the guests, had obeyed the summons. Mrs. Maitland was pouring out +tea quite undisturbed by this irregularity, for Longacres is a house +where attendance at the meals is never compulsory. + +"And how have you slept?" she said, extending me a plump hand glittering +with rings. "We were afraid that perhaps you were a little overtired +last night, as you went off to bed in the middle of the singing. +Capital, wasn't it? Mr. Tucker is so very funny, and never in the least +vulgar with his jokes! Now some comic singers really forget that there +are girls in the room.--(Lily, my love, just go and see if your uncle is +coming down).--I assure you, Mr. Carew, I was staying in a country house +last year--mind, I give no names--where the songs were only fit for a +music-hall! It's perfectly true; even George said it made him feel quite +red to hear such things in a drawing-room. But, as I was saying, Mr. +Tucker is so different; such genuine humour, you know!" + +It is impossible to conjecture how long my amiable hostess might have +rippled on in this strain if our conversation had not been interrupted +by the entry of Miss Latouche. + +"You have been introduced?" whispered Mrs. Maitland; and, without +waiting for an answer, she called out merrily: "My dear Irene, you must +positively come and entertain Mr. Carew. He will give up early rising if +he finds that it is always to mean a tete-a-tete with an old woman!" + +To my intense astonishment, Miss Latouche replied in the same jesting +tone, and taking the vacant seat next mine began at once to talk in the +most friendly way imaginable. Not a trace of eccentricity was +perceptible in her manner. She was merely a handsome girl, with a strong +vein of originality. I began to doubt the evidence of my senses. Surely +I must have been labouring under some hallucination the previous night. +It was almost easier to believe that I had been the dupe of a portentous +nightmare than that this charming girl should have enacted such a +strange part. + +Before the end of breakfast I was certain that I had taken a very +exaggerated view of the situation. It would be a pity to cut short a +pleasant visit and risk offending some of my oldest friends on such +purely fanciful grounds. Besides, I just remembered that I had given my +cook a holiday and that if I went home I should be dependent on the +culinary skill of a charwoman. This last consideration determined me. I +settled to stay. + +Nothing in Miss Latouche's behaviour led me to regret my decision. On +the contrary, at the end of a few days we were firm friends. The better +I knew her the greater became my admiration of her beauty and talents; +and, without vanity, I think I may say that she distinctly preferred me +to the other guests, who were mostly very ordinary types of modern young +men. The extraordinary impressions of the first evening had entirely +faded from my mind, when they were suddenly revived in all their +intensity by the following incident. + +It was a wet morning and we were all lolling about the billiard-room in +various stages of boredom. Some of the more energetic members of the +party had been out at dawn, cub hunting, and had returned wet through +just as we finished breakfast, in time to add their little quota of +grumbling to the general bulk of discontent. Mrs. Maitland, after making +a fruitless attempt to rally the spirits of the party, gave up the +effort in despair and retired to write letters in her room. Conversation +was carried on in fits and starts, whilst from time to time people +knocked about the billiard balls in a desultory fashion without +exhibiting even a show of interest in the result of the game. + +At last someone introduced the subject of fortune-telling. Instantly +there was a revival of interest. Everybody had some scrap of experience +to contribute, or some marvellous story to relate. Only Miss Latouche +remained silent. + +"What a pity none of us can tell fortunes!" cried Lily Wallace, eagerly. +"Won't anybody try? It's such fun, almost as amusing as turning tables, +and it often comes true in the most wonderful way!" + +"Ah, it does indeed!" sighed Mr. Tucker, with a countenance of +preternatural gravity. "A poor fellow I know was told that he would +marry and then die. Well, it's all coming true!" + +"Indeed! Really! How very shocking!" + +"Yes, indeed! Poor chap! He married last year and now he has nothing but +death before him!" + +"How awfully sad!" exclaimed Lily, sympathetically. "Why, you are +smiling! Oh, you bad man. I do believe you were only laughing at me +after all! Now, Irene, will you please tell Mr. Tucker's fortune, and +show him that it is no joking matter? I am sure you know the way, +because I have seen a mysterious book about palmistry in your room. Now +do, there's a dear girl." + +After a little more pressing, Miss Latouche acceded to the general +request that she would show her skill. Several people pressed forward at +once to have their fortunes told, the men being quite as eager as the +girls, although they affected to laugh at the whole affair. I watched +the exhibition with some interest. Surely here would be a fair field for +the exercise of that wonderful dramatic power which I knew Miss Latouche +held in reserve. Well, I was disappointed. She examined the hands +submitted to her notice, and interpreted the lines with an amount of +conscientious commonplaceness for which I should never have given her +credit. The majority of the fortunes were composed of the conventional +mixture of illnesses and love affairs which is the stock-in-trade of +drawing-room magicians. I glanced at her face. Not a trace of enthusiasm +was visible. She was telling fortunes as mechanically as a cottager +knits stockings. + +"Now we have all been done except Mr. Carew! It's his turn!" cried Lily, +who was enjoying the whole thing immensely. "He must have his fortune +told! You will do him next, won't you, Irene?" + +"Never!" + +"Oh, why not? Are you tired? What a pity!" + +Miss Latouche took not the slightest notice of the chorus of +protestations. She merely turned away with such an air of inflexible +determination that even the ardent Lily refrained from pressing her any +further. + +My curiosity was considerably excited by finding myself an exception to +the general rule. Was the inference to be drawn from Miss Latouche's +behaviour flattering, or the reverse? I had no chance of finding out +until late in the afternoon, when the rain ceased and we all gladly +seized the opportunity of getting some exercise before dinner. + +The different members of the party quickly dispersed in opposite +directions. A few exceptionally active young people tried to make up for +lost time by starting a game of tennis on the cinder courts. Some +diverged towards the stables, others took a brisk constitutional up and +down the gravel path. Under the pretence of lighting a cigar, I +contrived to wait about near the door until I saw Miss Latouche crossing +the hall. I remember thinking how wonderfully handsome she looked as she +came forward with a crimson shawl thrown over her head--for it was one +of her peculiarities never to wear a conventional hat or bonnet unless +absolutely obliged. + +"What do you say to going up the hill on the chance of seeing a fine +sunset?" I said, as she joined me. She nodded assent, and turning away +from the others, we began to climb a winding path, from the top of which +there was supposed to be a wonderful view. When we had gone about a +quarter of a mile, we stopped and looked round. Far out in front +stretched a beautiful valley lighted by gleams of fitful sunshine. The +house and garden lay at our feet, but so far below that we only +occasionally heard a faint echo from the tennis courts. The moment +seemed propitious. + +"Miss Latouche," I said abruptly, "I want to ask you something." + +No sooner were the words spoken than it struck me they were liable to be +misunderstood. She might imagine that I intended to make her an offer, +and accept me on the spot. Infinitely as I admired her in an abstract +fashion, I had never contemplated matrimony for a moment. Visions of +enraged male relatives armed with horse-whips, followed by a formidable +breach of promise case, flitted through my mind. There was no time to be +lost. + +"It's only about the fortune-telling," I stammered out; "nothing else, I +assure you--nothing at all!" + +"I knew it," replied Miss Latouche calmly and without a trace of +embarrassment. + +Sensible girl! I breathed freely once more and proceeded with my +investigations. + +"Why wouldn't you tell my fortune this morning? Why am I alone +excluded?" + +"Do you really wish to know?" she said very quietly. + +"Of course, or I shouldn't ask!" + +"Well then, the reason that I declined to tamper with _your_ destiny is +that I should be irresistibly compelled to tell _you_ the truth!" + +"Are you serious, or only--?" + +"Am I serious?" she cried, with a wild laugh; "_you_ ask this? The time +has at last come for an explanation. I would willingly have spared you, +but it is in vain that we seek to avoid our fate! Rest here!" and +seizing my wrist, she dragged me down on the fallen trunk of a tree that +lay half hidden by the tall grass at the side of the path. Immediately +behind us was a gloomy wood, choked with rank autumnal growths. A more +dank, unwholesome situation for a seat on a wet day it would be +impossible to conceive. But I preferred running the risk of rheumatic +fever to contradicting Miss Latouche in her present mood. Only I hoped +the explanation would be exceedingly brief. + +"You pretend that you never saw me before the other evening?" she began, +feverishly. + +"Certainly!" I answered, with great astonishment. "It was undoubtedly +our first meeting. I am sure--" + +"Can you swear it?" she interrupted, eagerly. + +"Oh, no! I never swear! But I don't mind affirming," I said playfully, +hoping to give a less serious turn to the conversation. + +To my horror Miss Latouche wrung her hands with the same expression of +hopeless suffering that I had seen once before. + +"It is too cruel," she moaned, "after all this dreary waiting and +watching, to be met like this! Oh, my Beloved! I cannot bear it any +longer! Shall I never find you? Never! never!" + +Her voice died away with a sob of despair, which effectually quenched my +capacity for making jokes. + +"I hardly understand what you are alluding to," I said as nicely as I +could; "but if you will trust me, I promise to do anything that lies in +my power to help you." + +"You promise!" she exclaimed, eagerly. "Mind, you are bound now! Bound +to my service!" + +This was taking my polite offer of assistance rather more seriously than +I intended. Muttering some commonplace compliment, I begged to be +further enlightened. + +"You will not repeat to any living soul the mysteries I am about to +disclose?" she began. "No, I need not ask! There is already sufficient +sympathy between us for me to be sure of your discretion. But remember, +if you ever feel tempted to disclose a single word of these hidden +matters, there are Unseen Powers who will amply avenge the profanation. +Know, then, that since my Beloved was snatched from me by what dull men +call death, all my faculties have been concentrated on the effort to +discover some link of communication with the Invisible World. I will not +dwell on my toils and sufferings, the terrible sights I have braved and +the sleepless nights that I have sacrificed to study. I do not grudge my +youth, passed as it were under the shadow of the tomb, for at last the +truth has been revealed to me. _You_ are to be the medium!" + +"Oh, nonsense!" I shouted. "I won't undertake it! Nothing shall persuade +me! Besides, I am perfectly ignorant of the subject." + +"You underrate your powers," observed Miss Latouche with calm +conviction. "Nature has endowed you with a most unusual organisation. +Your powers are quite involuntary. Nothing you say or do can make the +slightest difference. You are merely a passive agent for the +transmission of electric force." + +"Do you mean a sort of telegraph wire?" I gasped, feebly. + +"If you offer no resistance, all will be well with us," continued Miss +Latouche, ignoring the interruption; "but the Unseen Powers will bear no +trifling, and I can summon those to my aid who will make you bitterly +repent any levity!" + +I hate those sort of vague prophecies. They frighten one quite out of +proportion to their real gravity. + +"By the bye, I don't yet understand the reason you wouldn't tell my +fortune, as you seem to know such a lot about those things," I said at +last. + +"What! You do not understand yet that there is a bond between us which +makes any concealment impossible? I could not blind _you_ with the +paltry fictions that satisfy those poor fools!" and she waved her hand +contemptuously towards the distant figures of the tennis players, +amongst whom Mr. Tucker, in a wonderful costume, was distinctly visible. +The expression struck me as unjustifiably strong, even when applied to a +man who sang comic songs with a banjo accompaniment. + +"I don't think he is a bad little chap," I said, apologetically. + +"They are all alike," she replied, with an air of ineffable scorn. "You +can only content them with idle promises of love and wealth, like the +ignorant village girl who crosses a gipsy's hand with silver and in +return is promised a rich husband. And all the while I see the dark +cloud hanging over them and can do nothing to avert it. Ah! it is +terrible to know the evil to come and be powerless to warn others! To be +obliged to smile whilst one's heart is wrung with anguish and one's +brain tortured with nameless apprehensions; that is indeed misery!" + +"Dear me!" I said, nervously; "I hope you don't foresee any catastrophe +about to overwhelm _me_?" + +She gazed straight into my eyes, and her passionate face gradually +softened into a lovely smile. + +"No, my only friend!" she exclaimed, taking my hand gently in hers; "so +far, no cloud darkens the perfect happiness of our intercourse!" + +I felt that there were moments of compensation even in the pursuit of +the Black Arts! + + +III. + +It was a curious sensation, mixing again with the commonplace +pleasure-seekers at Longacres, conscious that I was the repository of +such extraordinary revelations. For, before we left our damp retreat, +Irene had confided in me the secret history of her life. Not that I +understood it very clearly, owing to her voice being continually choked +by stifled emotion. But I gathered that a person, presumably of the male +sex, who was vaguely designated as the Beloved, had perished in some +frightful manner before her eyes, and ever since that time she had +devoted herself to the study of the occult sciences in the firm +conviction that it was possible to discover a medium of communication +with the Unseen World. She now persisted that I had been designated by +unerring proofs as that medium. She assured me that, months previously, +she had foreseen my arrival at Longacres in the precise fashion in which +it really took place. + +"Every detail," she said, "was exactly foreshadowed in the vision. Not +only did I recognise you at once by your clothes (which were different +from those of the other men present), but your voice seemed familiar to +me, as if I had known you for years. I saw you gazing at me with what I +fondly believed to be a look of mutual recognition. I remember rising +from my seat in a species of ecstatic trance to which I am liable in +moments of excitement. I have a faint recollection of addressing you +with an impassioned appeal for help, to which you responded with icy +indifference, but the rest of our interview remains a blank. Only there +was a cruel sense of disappointment: instead of meeting as two spirits +whose interests were inseparable, you denied any previous knowledge of +me, and even manifested a sort of terrified aversion at my approach. I +saw you shrink away from my side; then nothing remained for me but to +temporarily dissemble my purpose and try first to win your confidence by +the exercise of my poor woman's wits. In this at least I was +successful!" + +Irene only spoke the truth. She had completely subdued my will by her +fascinations, and though I hated and, in private, ridiculed all +supernatural dealings, I was prepared to try the wildest experiments at +her bidding. + +The trial of my obedience arrived sooner than I anticipated. Immediately +after luncheon next day Irene made a sign to me to follow her into the +garden. + +"All is ready!" she exclaimed, with great excitement. "To-night will see +us successful or for ever lost!" + +"What do you mean?" I inquired, dubiously; for it did not sound a very +cheery prospect. + +"I mean that all things point to a hasty solution of the great problem. +To-night the planets are propitious, and with your help the chain of +communication will be at last complete. Oh, my Beloved! my toil and +waiting has not been all in vain!" + +"Well, what do you want me to do?" I said, rather sulkily. "Mind, it +mustn't be this evening, because Mrs. Maitland has a lot of people +coming to dinner, and we can't possibly leave the drawing-room." + +"The crisis will be at midnight in the ruined chapel," observed Irene, +as if she were stating the most ordinary fact; "but you must meet me an +hour before to make all sure." + +"Preposterous!" I exclaimed; "it's quite out of the question. Wander +about the garden at midnight indeed! What would people say if they saw +us?" + +"Do you imagine that I allow myself to be influenced by the opinion of +poor-spirited fools?" inquired Irene with fine scorn. And then, suddenly +changing her tactics, she sobbed and prayed me to grant her this one +boon--it might be the last thing she would ever ask. + +Well, she was very handsome, and I am but human. Before she left me I +had promised to do what she wished. + +It may be imagined that I passed a miserable day, distracted by a +thousand gloomy apprehensions which increased as the fatal hour +approached. I have mentioned that there was to be a dinner party that +evening. + +"A lot of country neighbours," as Maitland explained. "They like a big +feed from time to time. I put out the old port and my wife wears her +smartest dress and all the diamonds. It is quite a fuss to persuade her +to put them on, she is so nervous about them being lost! She always +insists on my locking them up in the safe again before I go to bed. Of +course I don't contradict her, but half the time I leave them on my +dressing-room table till next morning. Ha! ha! It is always best to +humour ladies, even when they are a trifle unreasonable." + +It is one of Maitland's little foibles that he never can resist drawing +attention to the family diamonds (which are remarkably fine) by some +passing allusion of this sort. + +Nothing of any interest happened during dinner. When it was at last +terminated we retired to the drawing-room, and listened with great +decorum to several pieces of music. Miss Latouche was pressed to perform +upon the harp, which she did with her usual melancholy grace. To-night +she was in a rich white robe, which enhanced the peculiarly dusky effect +of her olive skin and masses of dark hair. Her face was very pale; and, +to my surprise, shortly after playing she complained of a bad headache +and went off to bed. I hardly knew what to think. Had her courage failed +her at the last, and, when it came to the point, did she shrink from +braving the opinion of the world which she affected so thoroughly to +despise? + +"So, after all her boasting, she is no bolder than the rest of us!" I +thought, with intense relief, as I wandered across the hall to join the +other men in the smoking-room. The last guest had departed, and very +soon the whole house would be at rest for the night. "How I shall laugh +at her to-morrow!" I muttered. "Never again will she impose--" + +My meditations were interrupted by an icy touch on my wrist. Turning, I +saw Irene by my side, with a dark cloak thrown over her evening dress. +Without speaking a word she drew me towards a side door into the garden, +which was seldom used, and, producing a key from her pocket, opened it +noiselessly. + +"We can't go out at this time of night!" I gasped, making a faint effort +to break loose. "I haven't even a hat! It's really past a joke!" + +"Remember your promise!" she whispered, in a voice of such awful menace +that, feeling all resistance was useless, I followed her out into the +darkness. At that moment a sudden gust of wind slammed the door. + +"_Now_ what shall we do!" I exclaimed. "There is no handle and the key +is inside!" + +"Hush!" she whispered. "No more of these trivialities! I tell you the +Spirits are abroad to-night; the air is thick with unseen forms. Obey me +in silence, or you are lost." + +Speechless with annoyance, my teeth chattering with cold and general +creepiness, I followed her through the shrubberies until we reached the +site of a ruined chapel, which had originally joined on to the old wing +of the house. Of this building little remained except portions of the +outer walls, overgrown with ivy. The pavement had long since +disappeared, and was replaced by a rank growth of grass and weeds, +amongst which lay scattered such monumental remains as had survived the +general destruction. Only one window of the house happened to look out +in this direction. I could see a light shining through the blind, and, +with a touch, drew Irene's attention to it. + +"Do not alarm yourself with vain fears," she whispered; "it is only Mr. +Maitland's dressing-room. All will be quiet soon!" As she spoke, the +light was suddenly extinguished. + +Only then did I realise the full horrors of my position. When that +bed-room candle went out, the last link which bound me to civilization +seemed to have snapped. I was at the mercy of an enthusiast who had +broken loose from all those conventional trammels which I hold in such +respect. Although I had the greatest admiration for Irene, nothing would +have surprised me less than if my murdered remains had been found next +morning half hidden in the dank grass of the ruined chapel. + +We were standing in the deep shadow of the old wall. The silence was +intense. Indeed, after Irene's injunctions, I hardly dared breathe for +fear of drawing down some misfortune on my devoted head. Not that I +quite believed anything was going to happen, only it was best to be on +the safe side. Suddenly the stillness was broken by the distant sound of +the stable clock striking twelve. + +"It has come!" whispered Irene, stooping towards me with an expression +of the utmost anxiety. "Now you must obey me absolutely, or we shall +both incur the wrath of the Unseen Powers. No wavering! We have gone too +far to recede! First, to establish the electric current between us, you +must hold me firmly by the wrist and pass your hand slowly up and down +my arm, repeating these words after me." + +I hesitated. The proceeding struck me as extraordinary. + +"Will you imperil us both?" muttered Irene, in such a tone of agony that +I seized her arm and began to rub for my life. I remember noticing that +it was as cold and white as the arm of a marble statue. Meanwhile Irene +repeated an invocation, apparently in the same language in which she had +addressed me at our first meeting, and I imitated her to the best of my +ability. + +After this had been going on a few minutes, she inquired in a whisper if +I felt anything unusual. I considered that my sensations were quite +sufficiently peculiar to justify my replying in the affirmative. She +appeared satisfied. + +"All will be well, my friend," she murmured, sinking down with an air of +exhaustion on the lid of an ancient stone coffin that lay half overgrown +with ivy at our feet. "The danger will be averted if you act with +courage; only keep your hold on my hand and the Unseen Influences have +no power to hurt us! Now drink this." With these words she offered me a +small bottle of a dull blue colour and very curious shape. + +I examined the little flask suspiciously. I had a hazy impression that I +had once seen something like it in the British Museum. + +"Never can I reveal by what means I procured this invaluable treasure +and the precious fluid that it contains," replied Irene in answer to my +inquisitive glance. "Suffice it to say that for countless ages they lay +concealed in the cerements of a mummy." + +That settled me. I instantly resolved that no power on earth should +induce me to taste the nasty mess. A bright thought occurred to me--I +would base my refusal upon grounds which even Irene could scarcely +combat. + +"I am dreadfully sorry," I whispered, "but it upsets me to drink +anything except water; in fact I can't do it, the consequences would be +too horrible! I need not particularise, but literally I couldn't keep it +down a minute. So it seems hardly worth while to risk wasting this +valuable fluid." + +"And am I to be baffled at this hour by Human Weakness!" cried Irene, +stamping with suppressed rage. "It shall not be! Ha! I have it! The +odour alone may be sufficiently powerful to work our purpose." And +uncorking the bottle, she held it towards me. + +The smell was pungent but not disagreeable. + +"Now all is completed," she said, when I had inhaled a few whiffs. "You +have only to gaze before you, and wish with all the force of your will +that my Beloved may appear." + +We stood perfectly still, hand clasped in hand. Irene had risen from her +grim seat, and was leaning against me for support. Her cloak had fallen +off, and I thought that she looked like a beautiful spirit herself +against the dark background of ivy. In obedience to her orders, I fixed +my eyes on space and tried to wish. + +Hardly had I begun, when a figure emerged from behind the opposite wall +and glided slowly across the chapel towards us. I was so amazed that I +could hardly believe the evidence of my senses. As for Irene, she only +smiled with ineffable bliss, as if it were exactly what she had expected +all along. + +It was rather a cloudy night, so that I had great difficulty in +following the movements of the mysterious figure. When it gained the +centre of the chapel it paused, and then slowly turned towards the wall +of the house. As far as I could see, it was making some wild motion with +its upraised arms, whether of benediction or menace it was impossible to +discern at that distance; but I could not shake off a horrid impression +that it was cursing the slumbering inmates. And then, wonderful to +relate, whilst my eyes were fixed upon the dark figure, it began slowly +to rise into the air! + +At this portentous sight, I don't mind confessing that my hair fairly +bristled with horror. Fortunately for the preservation of my reason, at +that instant the moon, gleaming from behind a cloud, revealed a long +ladder planted against Mr. Maitland's dressing-room window. + +In a moment I recovered my self-possession. + +"Stay still--I am going to leave you for a short time," I whispered. + +Irene clung to me with both hands, and expressed a fear that the +outraged spirits would tear us in pieces if we moved. + +"Bother the spirits!" I replied, in a gruff whisper. "I swear it will be +the worse for you if you make a fuss now!" + +She sobbed and wrung her hands, but the time was past for that to have +any effect upon me, and, disengaging myself from her grasp, I crept +away, hiding as well as I could behind the scattered ruins. + +In this manner I contrived almost to reach the foot of the ladder +without being discovered. I had a strange fancy for capturing the thief +single-handed and monopolising all the glory of saving the famous +diamonds. Waiting patiently until he had just reached the window, I +rushed forward and seized the ladder. + +"It's no use resisting," I shouted; "if you don't give up quietly, I'll +shake." + +At this point a second figure stepped out from behind a laurel bush and +effectually silenced any further threats by dealing me a heavy blow on +the head. + + * * * * * + +For days I lay insensible from concussion of the brain. When I was at +last pronounced convalescent, Maitland was admitted to my room, being +bound by solemn promises not to excite me in any way. With heartfelt +gratitude he shook my hand and thanked me for saving the family +diamonds. + +"I shall take better care of them in the future," he said. "Catch me +leaving them about in my dressing-room again. No, they shall always go +straight back into the safe. Mrs. Maitland was right about that, though +it wouldn't do to confess it. Precious lucky for me that you heard the +burglars and ran out; though I wouldn't advise you to try and tackle two +muscular ruffians by yourself another time. It was just a chance that +one broke his leg when you pulled down the ladder, otherwise they would +have finished you off before we arrived on the scene." + +I may here remark that I never thought it necessary to correct the +version of the story which I found was already generally accepted. To +this day Maitland firmly believes that I was just getting into bed, +when, with supernatural acuteness, I divined the presence of robbers +under his dressing-room window, and creeping quietly out attacked them +in the rear. + +"By-the-bye, is Miss Latouche still staying here?" I presently inquired +in as calm a voice as I could command. + +"No, she left suddenly the day after your accident. She complained of +feeling upset by the affair, and wished to go home. We did not press her +to stay, as she is liable to nervous attacks which are rather alarming. +Why, that very night, curiously enough, I met her evidently walking in +her sleep down the passage as I rushed out at your shout. She passed +quite close to me without making any sign, and was quite unconscious of +it next day--in fact referred with some surprise to having slept all +through the row." + +"Has she always had these peculiar ways?" I asked with interest. + +"Well, I always thought her an imaginative, fanciful sort of girl, but +she has certainly been much worse since that poor fellow's death. What, +you never heard the story? It was at a picnic, and she insisted upon his +climbing some rocks to get her a certain flower, just for the sake of +giving trouble, as girls do. The poor lad's foot slipped, and he rolled +right over a precipice and was dashed to pieces. Of course it was a +shocking thing, but it's a pity she became so morbid about it, as no +real blame attached to her. Now I must not talk too much or the doctor +will say I have tired you; so good-bye for the present." + +And that was the last I heard of Irene Latouche. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Argosy, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ARGOSY *** + +***** This file should be named 17051.txt or 17051.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/0/5/17051/ + +Produced by Paul Murray, Taavi Kalju, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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