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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/2277-h.zip b/2277-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f94bf32 --- /dev/null +++ b/2277-h.zip diff --git a/2277-h/2277-h.htm b/2277-h/2277-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..455af99 --- /dev/null +++ b/2277-h/2277-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7983 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<HTML> +<HEAD> + +<META HTTP-EQUIV="Content-Type" CONTENT="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> + +<TITLE> +The Project Gutenberg E-text of Condensed Novels, by Bret Harte +</TITLE> + +<STYLE TYPE="text/css"> +BODY { color: Black; + background: White; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + text-align: justify } + +P {text-indent: 4% } + +P.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +P.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-size: small } + +P.intro {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10% ; + font-size: small } + +P.letter {text-indent: 0%; + font-size: small ; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +P.footnote {font-size: smaller ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +P.finis { text-align: center ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +</STYLE> + +</HEAD> + +<BODY> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Condensed Novels, by Bret Harte + +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: Condensed Novels + +Author: Bret Harte + +Posting Date: March 21, 2009 [EBook #2277] +Release Date: August, 2000 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CONDENSED NOVELS *** + + + + +Produced by an anonymous Project Gutenberg volunteer. HTML +version by Al Haines. + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<BR><BR> + +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +CONDENSED NOVELS +</H1> + +<BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +by +</H3> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +BRET HARTE +</H2> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +Contents: +</H2> + +<H4> + <A HREF="#handsome">HANDSOME IS AS HANDSOME DOES</A><BR> + <A HREF="#lothaw">LOTHAW, or THE ADVENTURES OF A YOUNG GENTLEMAN IN SEARCH OF A RELIGION</A><BR> + <A HREF="#muckamuck">MUCK-A-MUCK, A MODERN INDIAN NOVEL, AFTER JAMES FENIMORE COOPER</A><BR> + <A HREF="#denville">TERENCE DENVILLE</A><BR> + <A HREF="#selina">SELINA SEDILIA</A><BR> + <A HREF="#guardsmen">THE NINETY-NINE GUARDSMEN [AFTER THE THREE MUSKETEERS, BY DUMAS]</A><BR> + <A HREF="#dweller">THE DWELLER OF THE THRESHOLD</A><BR> + <A HREF="#haunted">THE HAUNTED MAN</A><BR> + <A HREF="#missmix">MISS MIX [AFTER CHARLOTTE BRONTE]</A><BR> + <A HREF="#heavystone">GUY HEAVYSTONE; OR, "ENTIRE."</A><BR> + <A HREF="#breezy">MR. MIDSHIPMAN BREEZY</A><BR> + <A HREF="#jenkins">JOHN JENKINS; OR, THE SMOKER REFORMED</A><BR> + <A HREF="#notitle">NO TITLE [AFTER WILKIE COLLINS]</A><BR> + Contains:<BR> + MARY JONES'S NARRATIVE<BR> + THE SLIM YOUNG MAN'S STORY<BR> + NO. 27 LIMEHOUSE ROAD<BR> + COUNT MOSCOW'S NARRATIVE<BR> + DR. DIGGS'S STATEMENT<BR> + <A HREF="#french">BEING A NOVEL IN THE FRENCH PARAGRAPHIC STYLE</A><BR> + <A HREF="#fantine">FANTINE</A><BR> + <A HREF="#lafemme">LA FEMME</A><BR> + <A HREF="#mcgillup">MARY MCGILLUP, A SOUTHERN NOVEL, AFTER BELLE BOYD</A><BR> +</H4> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="handsome"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +HANDSOME IS AS HANDSOME DOES. +</H2> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BY CH—S R—DE. +</H3> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER I. +</H3> + +<P> +The Dodds were dead. For twenty year they had slept under the green +graves of Kittery churchyard. The townfolk still spoke of them kindly. +The keeper of the alehouse, where David had smoked his pipe, regretted +him regularly, and Mistress Kitty, Mrs. Dodd's maid, whose trim figure +always looked well in her mistress's gowns, was inconsolable. The +Hardins were in America. Raby was aristocratically gouty; Mrs. Raby, +religious. Briefly, then, we have disposed of— +</P> + +<P> +1. Mr. and Mrs. Dodd (dead). +</P> + +<P> +2. Mr. and Mrs. Hardin (translated). +</P> + +<P> +3. Raby, baron et femme. (Yet I don't know about the former; he came +of a long-lived family, and the gout is an uncertain disease.) +</P> + +<P> +We have active at the present writing (place aux dames)— +</P> + +<P> +1. Lady Caroline Coventry, niece of Sir Frederick. +</P> + +<P> +2. Faraday Huxley Little, son of Henry and Grace Little, deceased. +</P> + +<P> +Sequitur to the above, A HERO AND HEROINE. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER II. +</H3> + +<P> +On the death of his parents, Faraday Little was taken to Raby Hall. In +accepting his guardianship, Mr. Raby struggled stoutly against two +prejudices: Faraday was plain-looking and sceptical. +</P> + +<P> +"Handsome is as handsome does, sweetheart," pleaded Jael, interceding +for the orphan with arms that were still beautiful. "Dear knows, it is +not his fault if he does not look like—his father," she added with a +great gulp. Jael was a woman, and vindicated her womanhood by never +entirely forgiving a former rival. +</P> + +<P> +"It's not that alone, madam," screamed Raby, "but, d—m it, the little +rascal's a scientist,—an atheist, a radical, a scoffer! Disbelieves in +the Bible, ma'am; is full of this Darwinian stuff about natural +selection and descent. Descent, forsooth! In my day, madam, gentlemen +were content to trace their ancestors back to gentlemen, and not +to—monkeys!" +</P> + +<P> +"Dear heart, the boy is clever," urged Jael. +</P> + +<P> +"Clever!" roared Raby; "what does a gentleman want with cleverness?" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER III. +</H3> + +<P> +Young Little WAS clever. At seven he had constructed a telescope; at +nine, a flying-machine. At ten he saved a valuable life. +</P> + +<P> +Norwood Park was the adjacent estate,—a lordly domain dotted with red +deer and black trunks, but scrupulously kept with gravelled roads as +hard and blue as steel. There Little was strolling one summer morning, +meditating on a new top with concealed springs. At a little distance +before him he saw the flutter of lace and ribbons. A young lady, a +very young lady,—say of seven summers,—tricked out in the crying +abominations of the present fashion, stood beside a low bush. Her +nursery-maid was not present, possibly owing to the fact that John the +footman was also absent. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly Little came towards her. "Excuse me, but do you know what +those berries are?" He was pointing to the low bush filled with dark +clusters of shining—suspiciously shining—fruit. +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly; they are blueberries." +</P> + +<P> +"Pardon me; you are mistaken. They belong to quite another family." +</P> + +<P> +Miss Impudence drew herself up to her full height (exactly three feet +nine and a half inches), and, curling an eight of an inch of scarlet +lip, said, scornfully. "YOUR family, perhaps." +</P> + +<P> +Faraday Little smiled in the superiority of boyhood over girlhood. +</P> + +<P> +"I allude to the classification. That plant is the belladonna, or +deadly nightshade. Its alkaloid is a narcotic poison." +</P> + +<P> +Sauciness turned pale. "I—have—just—eaten—some!" And began to +whimper. "O dear, what shall I do?" Then did it, i. e. wrung her +small fingers and cried. +</P> + +<P> +"Pardon me one moment." Little passed his arm around her neck, and +with his thumb opened widely the patrician-veined lids of her sweet +blue eyes. "Thank Heaven, there is yet no dilation of the pupil; it is +not too late!" He cast a rapid glance around. The nozzle and about +three feet of garden hose lay near him. +</P> + +<P> +"Open your mouth, quick!" +</P> + +<P> +It was a pretty, kissable mouth. But young Little meant business. He +put the nozzle down her pink throat as far as it would go. +</P> + +<P> +"Now, don't move." +</P> + +<P> +He wrapped his handkerchief around a hoopstick. Then he inserted both +in the other end of the stiff hose. It fitted snugly. He shoved it in +and then drew it back. +</P> + +<P> +Nature abhors a vacuum. The young patrician was as amenable to this +law as the child of the lowest peasant. +</P> + +<P> +She succumbed. It was all over in a minute. Then she burst into a +small fury. +</P> + +<P> +"You nasty, bad—UGLY boy." +</P> + +<P> +Young Little winced, but smiled. +</P> + +<P> +"Stimulants," he whispered to the frightened nursery-maid who +approached; "good evening." He was gone. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IV. +</H3> + +<P> +The breach between young Little and Mr. Raby was slowly widening. +Little found objectionable features in the Hall. "This black oak +ceiling and wainscoating is not as healthful as plaster; besides, it +absorbs the light. The bedroom ceiling is too low; the Elizabethan +architects knew nothing of ventilation. The color of that oak +panelling which you admire is due to an excess of carbon and the exuvia +from the pores of your skin—" +</P> + +<P> +"Leave the house," bellowed Raby, "before the roof falls on your +sacrilegious head!" +</P> + +<P> +As Little left the house, Lady Caroline and a handsome boy of about +Little's age entered. Lady Caroline recoiled, and then—blushed. +Little glared; he instinctively felt the presence of a rival. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER V. +</H3> + +<P> +Little worked hard. He studied night and day. In five years he became +a lecturer, then a professor. +</P> + +<P> +He soared as high as the clouds, he dipped as low as the cellars of the +London poor. He analyzed the London fog, and found it two parts smoke, +one disease, one unmentionable abominations. He published a pamphlet, +which was violently attacked. Then he knew he had done something. +</P> + +<P> +But he had not forgotten Caroline. He was walking one day in the +Zoological Gardens and he came upon a pretty picture,—flesh and blood +too. +</P> + +<P> +Lady Caroline feeding buns to the bears! An exquisite thrill passed +through his veins. She turned her sweet face and their eyes met. They +recollected their first meeting seven years before, but it was his turn +to be shy and timid. Wonderful power of age and sex! She met him with +perfect self-possession. +</P> + +<P> +"Well meant, but indigestible I fear" (he alluded to the buns). +</P> + +<P> +"A clever person like yourself can easily correct that" (she, the +slyboots, was thinking of something else). +</P> + +<P> +In a few moments they were chatting gayly. Little eagerly descanted +upon the different animals; she listened with delicious interest. An +hour glided delightfully away. +</P> + +<P> +After this sunshine, clouds. +</P> + +<P> +To them suddenly entered Mr. Raby and a handsome young man. The +gentlemen bowed stiffly and looked vicious,—as they felt. The lady of +this quartette smiled amiably, as she did not feel. +</P> + +<P> +"Looking at your ancestors, I suppose," said Mr. Raby, pointing to the +monkeys; "we will not disturb you. Come." And he led Caroline away. +</P> + +<P> +Little was heart-sick. He dared not follow them. But an hour later he +saw something which filled his heart with bliss unspeakable. +</P> + +<P> +Lady Caroline, with a divine smile on her face, feeding the monkeys! +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VI. +</H3> + +<P> +Encouraged by love, Little worked hard upon his new flying-machine. His +labors were lightened by talking of the beloved one with her French +maid Therese, whom he had discreetly bribed. Mademoiselle Therese was +venal, like all her class, but in this instance I fear she was not +bribed by British gold. Strange as it may seem to the British mind, it +was British genius, British eloquence, British thought, that brought +her to the feet of this young savan. +</P> + +<P> +"I believe," said Lady Caroline, one day, interrupting her maid in a +glowing eulogium upon the skill of "M. Leetell,"—"I believe you are in +love with this Professor." A quick flush crossed the olive cheek of +Therese, which Lady Caroline afterward remembered. +</P> + +<P> +The eventful day of trial came. The public were gathered, impatient +and scornful as the pigheaded public are apt to be. In the open area a +long cylindrical balloon, in shape like a Bologna sausage, swayed above +the machine, from which, like some enormous bird caught in a net, it +tried to free itself. A heavy rope held it fast to the ground. +</P> + +<P> +Little was waiting for the ballast, when his eye caught Lady Caroline's +among the spectators. The glance was appealing. In a moment he was at +her side. +</P> + +<P> +"I should like so much to get into the machine," said the +arch-hypocrite, demurely. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you engaged to marry young Raby," said Little, bluntly. +</P> + +<P> +"As you please," she said with a courtesy; "do I take this as a +refusal?" +</P> + +<P> +Little was a gentleman. He lifted her and her lapdog into the car. +</P> + +<P> +"How nice! it won't go off?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, the rope is strong, and the ballast is not yet in." +</P> + +<P> +A report like a pistol, a cry from the spectators, a thousand hands +stretched to grasp the parted rope, and the balloon darted upward. +</P> + +<P> +Only one hand of that thousand caught the rope,—Little's! But in the +same instant the horror-stricken spectators saw him whirled from his +feet and borne upward, still clinging to the rope, into space. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VII.* +</H3> + +<P CLASS="footnote"> +* The right of dramatization of this and succeeding chapters is +reserved by the writer. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Lady Caroline fainted. The cold watery nose of her dog on her cheek +brought her to herself. She dared not look over the edge of the car; +she dared not look up to the bellying monster above her, bearing her to +death. She threw herself on the bottom of the car, and embraced the +only living thing spared her,—the poodle. Then she cried. Then a +clear voice came apparently out of the circumambient air:— +</P> + +<P> +"May I trouble you to look at the barometer?" +</P> + +<P> +She put her head over the car. Little was hanging at the end of a long +rope. She put her head back again. +</P> + +<P> +In another moment he saw her perplexed, blushing face over the +edge,—blissful sight. +</P> + +<P> +"O, please don't think of coming up! Stay there, do!" +</P> + +<P> +Little stayed. Of course she could make nothing out of the barometer, +and said so. Little smiled. +</P> + +<P> +"Will you kindly send it down to me?" +</P> + +<P> +But she had no string or cord. Finally she said, "Wait a moment." +</P> + +<P> +Little waited. This time her face did not appear. The barometer came +slowly down at the end of—a stay-lace. +</P> + +<P> +The barometer showed a frightful elevation. Little looked up at the +valve and said nothing. Presently he heard a sigh. Then a sob. Then, +rather sharply,— +</P> + +<P> +"Why don't you do something?" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VIII. +</H3> + +<P> +Little came up the rope hand over hand. Lady Caroline crouched in the +farther side of the car. Fido, the poodle, whined. "Poor thing," said +Lady Caroline, "it's hungry." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you wish to save the dog?" said Little. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"Give me your parasol." +</P> + +<P> +She handed Little a good-sized affair of lace and silk and whalebone. +(None of your "sunshades.") Little examined its ribs carefully. +</P> + +<P> +"Give me the dog." +</P> + +<P> +Lady Caroline hurriedly slipped a note under the dog's collar, and +passed over her pet. +</P> + +<P> +Little tied the dog to the handle of the parasol and launched them both +into space. The next moment they were slowly, but tranquilly, sailing +to the earth. +</P> + +<P> +"A parasol and a parachute are distinct, but not different. Be not +alarmed, he will get his dinner at some farm-house." +</P> + +<P> +"Where are we now?" +</P> + +<P> +"That opaque spot you see is London fog. Those twin clouds are North +and South America. Jerusalem and Madagascar are those specks to the +right." +</P> + +<P> +Lady Caroline moved nearer; she was becoming interested. Then she +recalled herself and said freezingly, "How are we going to descend?" +</P> + +<P> +"By opening the valve." +</P> + +<P> +"Why don't you open it then?" +</P> + +<P> +"BECAUSE THE VALVE-STRING IS BROKEN!" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IX. +</H3> + +<P> +Lady Caroline fainted. When she revived it was dark. They were +apparently cleaving their way through a solid block of black marble. +She moaned and shuddered. +</P> + +<P> +"I wish we had a light." +</P> + +<P> +"I have no lucifers," said Little. "I observe, however, that you wear +a necklace of amber. Amber under certain conditions becomes highly +electrical. Permit me." +</P> + +<P> +He took the amber necklace and rubbed it briskly. Then he asked her to +present her knuckle to the gem. A bright spark was the result. This +was repeated for some hours. The light was not brilliant, but it was +enough for the purposes of propriety, and satisfied the delicately +minded girl. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly there was a tearing, hissing noise and a smell of gas. Little +looked up and turned pale. The balloon, at what I shall call the +pointed end of the Bologna sausage, was evidently bursting from +increased pressure. The gas was escaping, and already they were +beginning to descend. Little was resigned but firm. +</P> + +<P> +"If the silk gives way, then we are lost. Unfortunately I have no rope +nor material for binding it." +</P> + +<P> +The woman's instinct had arrived at the same conclusion sooner than the +man's reason. But she was hesitating over a detail. +</P> + +<P> +"Will you go down the rope for a moment?" she said, with a sweet smile. +</P> + +<P> +Little went down. Presently she called to him. She held something in +her hand,—a wonderful invention of the seventeenth century, improved +and perfected in this: a pyramid of sixteen circular hoops of light yet +strong steel, attached to each other by cloth bands. +</P> + +<P> +With a cry of joy Little seized them, climbed to the balloon, and +fitted the elastic hoops over its conical end. Then he returned to the +car. +</P> + +<P> +"We are saved." +</P> + +<P> +Lady Caroline, blushing, gathered her slim but antique drapery against +the other end of the car. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER X. +</H3> + +<P> +They were slowly descending. Presently Lady Caroline distinguished the +outlines of Raby Hall. "I think I will get out here," she said. +</P> + +<P> +Little anchored the balloon and prepared to follow her. +</P> + +<P> +"Not so, my friend," she said, with an arch smile. "We must not be +seen together. People might talk. Farewell." +</P> + +<P> +Little sprang again into the balloon and sped away to America. He came +down in California, oddly enough in front of Hardin's door, at Dutch +Flat. Hardin was just examining a specimen of ore. +</P> + +<P> +"You are a scientist; can you tell me if that is worth anything?" he +said, handing it to Little. +</P> + +<P> +Little held it to the light. "It contains ninety per cent of silver." +</P> + +<P> +Hardin embraced him. "Can I do anything for you, and why are you here?" +</P> + +<P> +Little told his story. Hardin asked to see the rope. Then he examined +it carefully. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, this was cut, not broken!" +</P> + +<P> +"With a knife?" asked Little. +</P> + +<P> +"No. Observe both sides are equally indented. It was done with a +SCISSORS!" +</P> + +<P> +"Just Heaven!" gasped Little. "Therese!" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER XI. +</H3> + +<P> +Little returned to London. Passing through London one day he met a +dog-fancier. "Buy a nice poodle, sir?" +</P> + +<P> +Something in the animal attracted his attention. "Fido!" he gasped. +</P> + +<P> +The dog yelped. +</P> + +<P> +Little bought him. On taking off his collar a piece of paper rustled +to the floor. He knew the handwriting and kissed it. It ran:— +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"TO THE HON. AUGUSTUS RABY—I cannot marry you. If I marry any one" +(sly puss) "it will be the man who has twice saved my life,—Professor +Little. +<BR><BR> +"CAROLINE COVENTRY." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +And she did. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="lothaw"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +LOTHAW; +</H2> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +OR, +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE ADVENTURES OF A YOUNG GENTLEMAN IN SEARCH OF A RELIGION. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BY MR. BENJAMINS. +</H3> + +<BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER I. +</H3> + +<P> +"I remember him a little boy," said the Duchess. "His mother was a +dear friend of mine; you know she was one of my bridesmaids." +</P> + +<P> +"And you have never seen him since, mamma?" asked the oldest married +daughter, who did not look a day older than her mother. +</P> + +<P> +"Never; he was an orphan shortly after. I have often reproached +myself, but it is so difficult to see boys." +</P> + +<P> +This simple yet first-class conversation existed in the morning-room of +Plusham, where the mistress of the palatial mansion sat involved in the +sacred privacy of a circle of her married daughters. One dexterously +applied golden knitting-needles to the fabrication of a purse of floss +silk of the rarest texture, which none who knew the almost fabulous +wealth of the Duke would believe was ever destined to hold in its +silken meshes a less sum than L1,000,000; another adorned a slipper +exclusively with seed pearls; a third emblazoned a page with rare +pigments and the finest quality of gold leaf. Beautiful forms leaned +over frames glowing with embroidery, and beautiful frames leaned over +forms inlaid with mother-of-pearl. Others, more remote, occasionally +burst into melody as they tried the passages of a new and exclusive air +given to them in MS. by some titled and devoted friend, for the private +use of the aristocracy alone, and absolutely prohibited for publication. +</P> + +<P> +The Duchess, herself the superlative of beauty, wealth, and position, +was married to the highest noble in the Three Kingdoms. Those who +talked about such matters said that their progeny were exactly like +their parents,—a peculiarity of the aristocratic and wealthy. They +all looked like brothers and sisters, except their parents, who, such +was their purity of blood, the perfection of their manners, and the +opulence of their condition, might have been taken for their own +children's elder son and daughter. The daughters, with one exception, +were all married to the highest nobles in the land. That exception was +the Lady Coriander, who, there being no vacancy above a marquis and a +rental of L1,000,000, waited. Gathered around the refined and sacred +circle of their breakfast-table, with their glittering coronets, which, +in filial respect to their father's Tory instincts and their mother's +Ritualistic tastes, they always wore on their regal brows, the effect +was dazzling as it was refined. It was this peculiarity and their +strong family resemblance which led their brother-in-law, the +good-humored St. Addlegourd, to say that, "'Pon my soul, you know, the +whole precious mob looked like a ghastly pack of court cards, you +know." St. Addlegourd was a radical. Having a rent-roll of +L15,000,000, and belonging to one of the oldest families in Britain, he +could afford to be. +</P> + +<P> +"Mamma, I've just dropped a pearl," said the Lady Coriander, bending +over the Persian hearthrug. +</P> + +<P> +"From your lips, sweet friend," said Lothaw, who came of age and +entered the room at the same moment. +</P> + +<P> +"No, from my work. It was a very valuable pearl, mamma; papa gave +Isaacs and Sons L50,000 for the two." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, indeed," said the Duchess, languidly rising; "let us go to +luncheon." +</P> + +<P> +"But your Grace," interposed Lothaw, who was still quite young, and had +dropped on all-fours on the carpet in search of the missing gem, +"consider the value—" +</P> + +<P> +"Dear friend," interposed the Duchess, with infinite tact, gently +lifting him by the tails of his dress-coat, "I am waiting for your arm." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER II. +</H3> + +<P> +Lothaw was immensely rich. The possessor of seventeen castles, fifteen +villas, nine shooting-boxes, and seven town houses, he had other +estates of which he had not even heard. +</P> + +<P> +Everybody at Plusham played croquet, and none badly. Next to their +purity of blood and great wealth, the family were famous for this +accomplishment. Yet Lothaw soon tired of the game, and after seriously +damaging his aristocratically large foot in an attempt to "tight +croquet" the Lady Aniseed's ball, he limped away to join the Duchess. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm going to the hennery," she said. +</P> + +<P> +"Let me go with you, I dearly love fowls—broiled," he added, +thoughtfully. +</P> + +<P> +"The Duke gave Lady Montairy some large Cochins the other day," +continued the Duchess, changing the subject with delicate tact. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "Lady Montairy,<BR> + Quite contrairy,<BR> + How do your cochins grow?"<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +sang Lothaw gayly. +</P> + +<P> +The Duchess looked shocked. After a prolonged silence, Lothaw abruptly +and gravely said:— +</P> + +<P> +"If you please, ma'am, when I come into my property I should like to +build some improved dwellings for the poor, and marry Lady Coriander." +</P> + +<P> +"You amaze me, dear friend, and yet both your aspirations are noble and +eminently proper," said the Duchess; "Coriander is but a child,—and +yet," she added, looking graciously upon her companion, "for the matter +of that, so are you." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER III. +</H3> + +<P> +Mr. Putney Giles's was Lothaw's first grand dinner-party. Yet, by +carefully watching the others, he managed to acquit himself creditably, +and avoided drinking out of the finger-bowl by first secretly testing +its contents with a spoon. The conversation was peculiar and +singularly interesting. +</P> + +<P> +"Then you think that monogamy is simply a question of the thermometer?" +said Mrs. Putney Giles to her companion. +</P> + +<P> +"I certainly think that polygamy should be limited by isothermal +lines," replied Lothaw. +</P> + +<P> +"I should say it was a matter of latitude," observed a loud talkative +man opposite. He was an Oxford Professor with a taste for satire, and +had made himself very obnoxious to the company, during dinner, by +speaking disparagingly of a former well-known Chancellor of the +Exchequer,—a great statesman and brilliant novelist,—whom he feared +and hated. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly there was a sensation in the room; among the females it +absolutely amounted to a nervous thrill. His Eminence, the Cardinal, +was announced. He entered with great suavity of manner, and, after +shaking hands with everybody, asking after their relatives, and +chucking the more delicate females under the chin with a high-bred +grace peculiar to his profession, he sat down, saying, "And how do we +all find ourselves this evening, my dears?" in several different +languages, which he spoke fluently. +</P> + +<P> +Lothaw's heart was touched. His deeply religious convictions were +impressed. He instantly went up to this gifted being, confessed, and +received absolution. "To-morrow," he said to himself, "I will partake +of the communion, and endow the Church with my vast estates. For the +present I'll let the improved cottages go." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IV. +</H3> + +<P> +As Lothaw turned to leave the Cardinal, he was struck by a beautiful +face. It was that of a matron, slim but shapely as an Ionic column. +Her face was Grecian, with Corinthian temples; Hellenic eyes that +looked from jutting eyebrows, like dormer-windows in an Attic forehead, +completed her perfect Athenian outline. She wore a black frock-coat +tightly buttoned over her bloomer trousers, and a standing collar. +</P> + +<P> +"Your Lordship is struck by that face," said a social parasite. +</P> + +<P> +"I am; who is she?" +</P> + +<P> +"Her name is Mary Ann. She is married to an American, and has lately +invented a new religion." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah!" said Lothaw eagerly, with difficulty restraining himself from +rushing toward her. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; shall I introduce you?" +</P> + +<P> +Lothaw thought of Lady Coriander's High Church proclivities, of the +Cardinal, and hesitated: "No, I thank you, not now." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER V. +</H3> + +<P> +Lothaw was maturing. He had attended two woman's rights conventions, +three Fenian meetings, had dined at White's, and had danced vis-a-vis +to a prince of the blood, and eaten off of gold plates at Crecy House. +</P> + +<P> +His stables were near Oxford, and occupied more ground than the +University. He was driving over there one day, when he perceived some +rustics and menials endeavoring to stop a pair of runaway horses +attached to a carriage in which a lady and gentleman were seated. +Calmly awaiting the termination of the accident, with high-bred +courtesy Lothaw forbore to interfere until the carriage was overturned, +the occupants thrown out, and the runaways secured by the servants, +when he advanced and offered the lady the exclusive use of his Oxford +stables. +</P> + +<P> +Turning upon him a face whose perfect Hellenic details he remembered, +she slowly dragged a gentleman from under the wheels into the light and +presented him with ladylike dignity as her husband, Major-General +Camperdown, an American. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah," said Lothaw, carelessly, "I believe I have some land there. If I +mistake not, my agent, Mr. Putney Giles, lately purchased the State +of—Illinois—I think you call it." +</P> + +<P> +"Exactly. As a former resident of the city of Chicago, let me +introduce myself as your tenant." +</P> + +<P> +Lothaw bowed graciously to the gentleman, who, except that he seemed +better dressed than most Englishmen, showed no other signs of +inferiority and plebeian extraction. +</P> + +<P> +"We have met before," said Lothaw to the lady as she leaned on his arm, +while they visited his stables, the University, and other places of +interest in Oxford. "Pray tell me, what is this new religion of yours?" +</P> + +<P> +"It is Woman Suffrage, Free Love, Mutual Affinity, and Communism. +Embrace it and me." +</P> + +<P> +Lothaw did not know exactly what to do. She however soothed and +sustained his agitated frame and sealed with an embrace his speechless +form. The General approached and coughed slightly with gentlemanly +tact. +</P> + +<P> +"My husband will be too happy to talk with you further on this +subject," she said with quiet dignity, as she regained the General's +side. "Come with us to Oneida. Brook Farm is a thing of the past." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VI. +</H3> + +<P> +As Lothaw drove toward his country-seat, "The Mural Enclosure," he +observed a crowd, apparently of the working class, gathered around a +singular-looking man in the picturesque garb of an Ethiopian serenader. +"What does he say?" inquired Lothaw of his driver. +</P> + +<P> +The man touched his hat respectfully and said, "My Mary Ann." +</P> + +<P> +"'My Mary Ann!'" Lothaw's heart beat rapidly. Who was this mysterious +foreigner? He had heard from Lady Coriander of a certain Popish plot; +but could he connect Mr. Camperdown with it? +</P> + +<P> +The spectacle of two hundred men at arms who advanced to meet him at +the gates of The Mural Enclosure drove all else from the still youthful +and impressible mind of Lothaw. Immediately behind them, on the steps +of the baronial halls, were ranged his retainers, led by the chief cook +and bottle-washer, and head crumb-remover. On either side were two +companies of laundry-maids, preceded by the chief crimper and fluter, +supporting a long Ancestral Line, on which depended the family linen, +and under which the youthful lord of the manor passed into the halls of +his fathers. Twenty-four scullions carried the massive gold and silver +plate of the family on their shoulders, and deposited it at the feet of +their master. The spoons were then solemnly counted by the steward, and +the perfect ceremony ended. +</P> + +<P> +Lothaw sighed. He sought out the gorgeously gilded "Taj," or sacred +mausoleum erected to his grandfather in the second story front room, +and wept over the man he did not know. He wandered alone in his +magnificent park, and then, throwing himself on a grassy bank, pondered +on the Great First Cause, and the necessity of religion. "I will send +Mary Ann a handsome present," said Lothaw, thoughtfully. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VII. +</H3> + +<P> +"Each of these pearls, my Lord, is worth fifty thousand guineas," said +Mr. Amethyst, the fashionable jeweler, as he lightly lifted a large +shovelful from a convenient bin behind his counter. +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed," said Lothaw, carelessly, "I should prefer to see some +expensive ones. +</P> + +<P> +"Some number sixes, I suppose," said Mr. Amethyst, taking a couple from +the apex of a small pyramid that lay piled on the shelf. "These are +about the size of the Duchess of Billingsgate's, but they are in finer +condition. The fact is, her Grace permits her two children, the +Marquis of Smithfield and the Duke of St. Giles,—two sweet pretty +boys, my Lord,—to use them as marbles in their games. Pearls require +some attention, and I go down there regularly twice a week to clean +them. Perhaps your Lordship would like some ropes of pearls?" +</P> + +<P> +"About half a cable's length," said Lothaw, shortly, "and send them to +my lodgings." +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Amethyst became thoughtful. "I am afraid I have not the exact +number—that is—excuse me one moment. I will run over to the Tower +and borrow a few from the crown jewels." And before Lothaw could +prevent him, he seized his hat and left Lothaw alone. +</P> + +<P> +His position certainly was embarrassing. He could not move without +stepping on costly gems which had rolled from the counter; the rarest +diamonds lay scattered on the shelves; untold fortunes in priceless +emeralds lay within his grasp. Although such was the aristocratic +purity of his blood and the strength of his religious convictions that +he probably would not have pocketed a single diamond, still he could +not help thinking that he might be accused of taking some. "You can +search me, if you like," he said when Mr. Amethyst returned; "but I +assure you, upon the honor of a gentleman, that I have taken nothing." +</P> + +<P> +"Enough, my Lord," said Mr. Amethyst, with a low bow; "we never search +the aristocracy." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VIII. +</H3> + +<P> +As Lothaw left Mr. Amethyst's, he ran against General Camperdown. "How +is Mary Ann?" he asked hurriedly. +</P> + +<P> +"I regret to state that she is dying," said the general, with a grave +voice, as he removed his cigar from his lips, and lifted his hat to +Lothaw. +</P> + +<P> +"Dying!" said Lothaw, incredulously. +</P> + +<P> +"Alas, too true!" replied the General. "The engagements of a long +lecturing season, exposure in travelling by railway during the winter, +and the imperfect nourishment afforded by the refreshments along the +road, have told on her delicate frame. But she wants to see you before +she dies. Here is the key of my lodging. I will finish my cigar out +here." +</P> + +<P> +Lothaw hardly recognized those wasted Hellenic outlines as he entered +the dimly lighted room of the dying woman. She was already a classic +ruin,—as wrecked and yet as perfect as the Parthenon. He grasped her +hand silently. +</P> + +<P> +"Open-air speaking twice a week, and saleratus bread in the rural +districts, have brought me to this," she said feebly; "but it is well. +The cause progresses. The tyrant man succumbs." +</P> + +<P> +Lothaw could only press her hand. +</P> + +<P> +"Promise me one thing. Don't—whatever you do—become a Catholic." +</P> + +<P> +"Why?" +</P> + +<P> +"The Church does not recognize divorce. And now embrace me. I would +prefer at this supreme moment to introduce myself to the next world +through the medium of the best society in this. Good by. When I am +dead, be good enough to inform my husband of the fact." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IX. +</H3> + +<P> +Lothaw spent the next six months on an Aryan island, in an Aryan +climate, and with an Aryan race. +</P> + +<P> +"This is an Aryan landscape," said his host, "and that is a Mary Ann +statue." It was, in fact, a full-length figure in marble of Mrs. +General Camperdown! +</P> + +<P> +"If you please, I should like to become a Pagan," said Lothaw, one day, +after listening to an impassioned discourse on Greek art from the lips +of his host. +</P> + +<P> +But that night, on consulting a well-known spiritual medium, Lothaw +received a message from the late Mrs. General Camperdown, advising him +to return to England. Two days later he presented himself at Plusham. +</P> + +<P> +"The young ladies are in the garden," said the Duchess. "Don't you +want to go and pick a rose?" she added with a gracious smile, and the +nearest approach to a wink that was consistent with her patrician +bearing and aquiline nose. +</P> + +<P> +Lothaw went and presently returned with the blushing Coriander upon his +arm. +</P> + +<P> +"Bless you, my children," said the Duchess. Then, turning to Lothaw, +she said: "You have simply fulfilled and accepted your inevitable +destiny. It was morally impossible for you to marry out of this +family. For the present, the Church of England is safe." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="muckamuck"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +MUCK-A-MUCK. +</H2> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +A MODERN INDIAN NOVEL. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +AFTER COOPER. +</H3> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER I. +</H3> + +<P> +It was toward the close of a bright October day. The last rays of the +setting sun were reflected from one of those sylvan lakes peculiar to +the Sierras of California. On the right the curling smoke of an Indian +village rose between the columns of the lofty pines, while to the left +the log cottage of Judge Tompkins, embowered in buckeyes, completed the +enchanting picture. +</P> + +<P> +Although the exterior of the cottage was humble and unpretentious, and +in keeping with the wildness of the landscape, its interior gave +evidence of the cultivation and refinement of its inmates. An +aquarium, containing goldfishes, stood on a marble centre-table at one +end of the apartment, while a magnificent grand piano occupied the +other. The floor was covered with a yielding tapestry carpet, and the +walls were adorned with paintings from the pencils of Van Dyke, Rubens, +Tintoretto, Michael Angelo, and the productions of the more modern +Turner, Kensett, Church, and Bierstadt. Although Judge Tompkins had +chosen the frontiers of civilization as his home, it was impossible for +him to entirely forego the habits and tastes of his former life. He +was seated in a luxurious arm-chair, writing at a mahogany ecritoire, +while his daughter, a lovely young girl of seventeen summers, plied her +crochet-needle on an ottoman beside him. A bright fire of pine logs +flickered and flamed on the ample hearth. +</P> + +<P> +Genevra Octavia Tompkins was Judge Tompkins's only child. Her mother +had long since died on the Plains. Reared in affluence, no pains had +been spared with the daughter's education. She was a graduate of one +of the principal seminaries, and spoke French with a perfect Benicia +accent. Peerlessly beautiful, she was dressed in a white moire antique +robe trimmed with tulle. That simple rosebud with which most heroines +exclusively decorate their hair, was all she wore in her raven locks. +</P> + +<P> +The Judge was the first to break the silence. +</P> + +<P> +"Genevra, the logs which compose yonder fire seem to have been +incautiously chosen. The sibilation produced by the sap, which exudes +copiously therefrom, is not conducive to composition." +</P> + +<P> +"True, father, but I thought it would be preferable to the constant +crepitation which is apt to attend the combustion of more seasoned +ligneous fragments." +</P> + +<P> +The Judge looked admiringly at the intellectual features of the +graceful girl, and half forgot the slight annoyances of the green wood +in the musical accents of his daughter. He was smoothing her hair +tenderly, when the shadow of a tall figure, which suddenly darkened the +doorway, caused him to look up. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER II. +</H3> + +<P> +It needed but a glance at the new-comer to detect at once the form and +features of the haughty aborigine,—the untaught and untrammelled son +of the forest. Over one shoulder a blanket, negligently but gracefully +thrown, disclosed a bare and powerful breast, decorated with a quantity +of three-cent postage-stamps which he had despoiled from an Overland +Mail stage a few weeks previous. A cast-off beaver of Judge +Tompkins's, adorned by a simple feather, covered his erect head, from +beneath which his straight locks descended. His right hand hung +lightly by his side, while his left was engaged in holding on a pair of +pantaloons, which the lawless grace and freedom of his lower limbs +evidently could not brook. +</P> + +<P> +"Why," said the Indian, in a low sweet tone,—"why does the Pale Face +still follow the track of the Red Man? Why does he pursue him, even as +O-kee-chow, the wild-cat, chases Ka-ka, the skunk? Why are the feet of +Sorrel-top, the white chief, among the acorns of Muck-a-muck, the +mountain forest? Why," he repeated, quietly but firmly abstracting a +silver spoon from the table,—"why do you seek to drive him from the +wigwams of his fathers? His brothers are already gone to the happy +hunting-grounds. Will the Pale Face seek him there?" And, averting +his face from the Judge, he hastily slipped a silver cake-basket +beneath his blanket, to conceal his emotion. +</P> + +<P> +"Muck-a-Muck has spoken," said Genevra, softly. "Let him now listen. +Are the acorns of the mountain sweeter than the esculent and nutritious +bean of the Pale Face miner? Does my brother prize the edible +qualities of the snail above that of the crisp and oleaginous bacon? +Delicious are the grasshoppers that sport on the hillside,—are they +better than the dried apples of the Pale Faces? Pleasant is the gurgle +of the torrent, Kish-Kish, but is it better than the cluck-cluck of old +Bourbon from the old stone bottle?" +</P> + +<P> +"Ugh!" said the Indian,—"ugh! good. The White Rabbit is wise. Her +words fall as the snow on Tootoonolo, and the rocky heart of +Muck-a-Muck is hidden. What says my brother the Gray Gopher of Dutch +Flat?" +</P> + +<P> +"She has spoken, Muck-a-Muck," said the Judge, gazing fondly on his +daughter. "It is well. Our treaty is concluded. No, thank you,—you +need NOT dance the Dance of Snow Shoes, or the Moccasin Dance, the +Dance of Green Corn, or the Treaty Dance. I would be alone. A strange +sadness overpowers me." +</P> + +<P> +"I go," said the Indian. "Tell your great chief in Washington, the +Sachem Andy, that the Red Man is retiring before the footsteps of the +adventurous Pioneer. Inform him, if you please, that westward the star +of empire takes its way, that the chiefs of the Pi-Ute nation are for +Reconstruction to a man, and that Klamath will poll a heavy Republican +vote in the fall." +</P> + +<P> +And folding his blanket more tightly around him, Muck-a-Muck withdrew. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER III. +</H3> + +<P> +Genevra Tompkins stood at the door of the log-cabin, looking after the +retreating Overland Mail stage which conveyed her father to Virginia +City. "He may never return again," sighed the young girl as she +glanced at the frightfully rolling vehicle and wildly careering +horses,—"at least, with unbroken bones. Should he meet with an +accident! I mind me now a fearful legend, familiar to my childhood. +Can it be that the drivers on this line are privately instructed to +despatch all passengers maimed by accident, to prevent tedious +litigation? No, no. But why this weight upon my heart?" +</P> + +<P> +She seated herself at the piano and lightly passed her hand over the +keys. Then, in a clear mezzo-soprano voice, she sang the first verse +of one of the most popular Irish ballads:— +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "O Arrah, ma dheelish, the distant dudheen<BR> + Lies soft in the moonlight, ma bouchal vourneen:<BR> + The springing gossoons on the heather are still,<BR> + And the caubeens and colleens are heard on the hills."<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +But as the ravishing notes of her sweet voice died upon the air, her +hands sank listlessly to her side. Music could not chase away the +mysterious shadow from her heart. Again she rose. Putting on a white +crape bonnet, and carefully drawing a pair of lemon-colored gloves over +her taper fingers, she seized her parasol and plunged into the depths +of the pine forest. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IV. +</H3> + +<P> +Genevra had not proceeded many miles before a weariness seized upon her +fragile limbs, and she would fain seat herself upon the trunk of a +prostrate pine, which she previously dusted with her handkerchief. The +sun was just sinking below the horizon, and the scene was one of +gorgeous and sylvan beauty. "How beautiful is Nature!" murmured the +innocent girl, as, reclining gracefully against the root of the tree, +she gathered up her skirts and tied a handkerchief around her throat. +But a low growl interrupted her meditation. Starting to her feet, her +eyes met a sight which froze her blood with terror. +</P> + +<P> +The only outlet to the forest was the narrow path, barely wide enough +for a single person, hemmed in by trees and rocks, which she had just +traversed. Down this path, in Indian file, came a monstrous grizzly, +closely followed by a California lion, a wild-cat, and a buffalo, the +rear being brought up by a wild Spanish bull. The mouths of the three +first animals were distended with frightful significance; the horns of +the last were lowered as ominously. As Genevra was preparing to faint, +she heard a low voice behind her. +</P> + +<P> +"Eternally dog-gone my skin ef this ain't the puttiest chance yet." +</P> + +<P> +At the same moment, a long, shining barrel dropped lightly from behind +her, and rested over her shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +Genevra shuddered. +</P> + +<P> +"Dern ye—don't move!" +</P> + +<P> +Genevra became motionless. +</P> + +<P> +The crack of a rifle rang through the woods. Three frightful yells +were heard, and two sullen roars. Five animals bounded into the air +and five lifeless bodies lay upon the plain. The well-aimed bullet had +done its work. Entering the open throat of the grizzly, it had +traversed his body only to enter the throat of the California lion, and +in like manner the catamount, until it passed through into the +respective foreheads of the bull and the buffalo, and finally fell +flattened from the rocky hillside. +</P> + +<P> +Genevra turned quickly. "My preserver!" she shrieked, and fell into +the arms of Natty Bumpo, the celebrated Pike Ranger of Donner Lake. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER V. +</H3> + +<P> +The moon rose cheerfully above Donner Lake. On its placid bosom a +dug-out canoe glided rapidly, containing Natty Bumpo and Genevra +Tompkins. +</P> + +<P> +Both were silent. The same thought possessed each, and perhaps there +was sweet companionship even in the unbroken quiet. Genevra bit the +handle of her parasol and blushed. Natty Bumpo took a fresh chew of +tobacco. At length Genevra said, as if in half-spoken revery:— +</P> + +<P> +"The soft shining of the moon and the peaceful ripple of the waves seem +to say to us various things of an instructive and moral tendency." +</P> + +<P> +"You may bet yer pile on that, Miss," said her companion, gravely. +"It's all the preachin' and psalm-singin' I've heern since I was a boy." +</P> + +<P> +"Noble being!" said Miss Tompkins to herself, glancing at the stately +Pike as he bent over his paddle to conceal his emotion. "Reared in this +wild seclusion, yet he has become penetrated with visible consciousness +of a Great First Cause." Then, collecting herself, she said aloud: +"Methinks 'twere pleasant to glide ever thus down the stream of life, +hand in hand with the one being whom the soul claims as its affinity. +But what am I saying?"—and the delicate-minded girl hid her face in +her hands. +</P> + +<P> +A long silence ensued, which was at length broken by her companion. +</P> + +<P> +"Ef you mean you're on the marry," he said, thoughtfully, "I ain't in +no wise partikler!" +</P> + +<P> +"My husband," faltered the blushing girl; and she fell into his arms. +</P> + +<P> +In ten minutes more the loving couple had landed at Judge Tompkins's. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VI. +</H3> + +<P> +A year has passed away. Natty Bumpo was returning from Gold Hill, +where he had been to purchase provisions. On his way to Donner Lake, +rumors of an Indian uprising met his ears. "Dern their pesky skins, ef +they dare to touch my Jenny," he muttered between his clenched teeth. +</P> + +<P> +It was dark when he reached the borders of the lake. Around a +glittering fire he dimly discerned dusky figures dancing. They were in +war paint. Conspicuous among them was the renowned Muck-a-Muck. But +why did the fingers of Natty Bumpo tighten convulsively around his +rifle? +</P> + +<P> +The chief held in his hand long tufts of raven hair. The heart of the +pioneer sickened as he recognized the clustering curls of Genevra. In +a moment his rifle was at his shoulder, and with a sharp "ping," +Muck-a-Muck leaped into the air a corpse. To knock out the brains of +the remaining savages, tear the tresses from the stiffening hand of +Muck-a-Muck, and dash rapidly forward to the cottage of Judge Tompkins, +was the work of a moment. +</P> + +<P> +He burst open the door. Why did he stand transfixed with open mouth +and distended eyeballs? Was the sight too horrible to be borne? On +the contrary, before him, in her peerless beauty, stood Genevra +Tompkins, leaning on her father's arm. +</P> + +<P> +"Ye'r not scalped, then!" gasped her lover. +</P> + +<P> +"No. I have no hesitation in saying that I am not; but why this +abruptness?" responded Genevra. +</P> + +<P> +Bumpo could not speak, but frantically produced the silken tresses. +Genevra turned her face aside. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, that's her waterfall!" said the Judge. +</P> + +<P> +Bumpo sank fainting to the floor. +</P> + +<P> +The famous Pike chieftain never recovered from the deceit, and refused +to marry Genevra, who died, twenty years afterwards, of a broken heart. +Judge Tompkins lost his fortune in Wild Cat. The stage passes twice a +week the deserted cottage at Donner Lake. Thus was the death of +Muck-a-Muck avenged. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="denville"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +TERENCE DENVILLE. +</H2> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BY CH—L—S L—V—R. +</H3> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER I. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +MY HOME. +</H3> + +<P> +The little village of Pilwiddle is one of the smallest and obscurest +hamlets on the western coast of Ireland. On a lofty crag, overlooking +the hoarse Atlantic, stands "Denville's Shot Tower"—a corruption by +the peasantry of D'Enville's Chateau, so called from my +great-grandfather, Phelim St. Kemy d'Enville, who assumed the name and +title of a French heiress with whom he ran away. To this fact my +familiar knowledge and excellent pronunciation of the French language +may be attributed, as well as many of the events which covered my after +life. +</P> + +<P> +The Denvilles were always passionately fond of field sports. At the +age of four, I was already the boldest rider and the best shot in the +country. When only eight, I won the St. Remy Cup at the Pilwiddle +races,—riding my favorite bloodmare Hellfire. As I approached the +stand amidst the plaudits of the assembled multitude, and cries of, +"Thrue for ye, Masther Terence," and "O, but it's a Dinville!" there +was a slight stir among the gentry, who surrounded the Lord Lieutenant, +and other titled personages whom the race had attracted thither. "How +young he is,—a mere child; and yet how noble-looking," said a sweet +low voice, which thrilled my soul. +</P> + +<P> +I looked up and met the full liquid orbs of the Hon. Blanche Fitzroy +Sackville, youngest daughter of the Lord Lieutenant. She blushed +deeply. I turned pale and almost fainted. But the cold, sneering +tones of a masculine voice sent the blood back again into my youthful +cheek. +</P> + +<P> +"Very likely the ragged scion of one of these banditti Irish gentry, +who has taken naturally to 'the road.' He should be at school—though +I warrant me his knowledge of Terence will not extend beyond his own +name," said Lord Henry Somerset, aid-de-camp to the Lord Lieutenant. +</P> + +<P> +A moment and I was perfectly calm, though cold as ice. Dismounting, and +stepping to the side of the speaker, I said in a low, firm voice:— +</P> + +<P> +"Had your Lordship read Terence more carefully, you would have learned +that banditti are sometimes proficient in other arts beside +horsemanship," and I touched his holster significantly with my hand. I +had not read Terence myself, but with the skilful audacity of my race I +calculated that a vague allusion, coupled with a threat, would +embarrass him. It did. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah—what mean you?" he said, white with rage. +</P> + +<P> +"Enough, we are observed," I replied; "Father Tom will wait on you this +evening; and to-morrow morning, my lord, in the glen below Pilwiddle we +will meet again." +</P> + +<P> +"Father Tom—glen!" ejaculated the Englishman, with genuine surprise. +"What? do priests carry challenges and act as seconds in your infernal +country?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes!" I answered, scornfully, "why should they not? Their services +are more often necessary than those of a surgeon," I added +significantly, turning away. +</P> + +<P> +The party slowly rode off, with the exception of the Hon. Blanche +Sackville, who lingered for a moment behind. In an instant I was at +her side. Bending her blushing face over the neck of her white filly, +she said hurriedly:— +</P> + +<P> +"Words have passed between Lord Somerset and yourself. You are about +to fight. Don't deny it—but hear me. You will meet him—I know your +skill of weapons. He will be at your mercy. I entreat you to spare +his life!" +</P> + +<P> +I hesitated. "Never!" I cried passionately; "he has insulted a +Denville!" +</P> + +<P> +"Terence," she whispered, "Terence—FOR MY SAKE?" +</P> + +<P> +The blood rushed to my cheeks, and her eyes sought the ground in +bashful confusion. +</P> + +<P> +"You love him then?" I cried, bitterly. +</P> + +<P> +"No, no," she said, agitatedly, "no, you do me wrong. I—I—cannot +explain myself. My father!—the Lady Dowager Sackville—the estate of +Sackville—the borough—my uncle, Fitzroy Somerset. Ah! what am I +saying? Forgive me. O Terence," she said, as her beautiful head sank +on my shoulder, "you know not what I suffer!" +</P> + +<P> +I seized her hand and covered it with passionate kisses. But the +high-bred English girl, recovering something of her former hauteur, +said hastily, "Leave me, leave me, but promise!" +</P> + +<P> +"I promise," I replied, enthusiastically; "I WILL spare his life!" +</P> + +<P> +"Thanks, Terence,—thanks!" and disengaging her hand from my lips she +rode rapidly away. +</P> + +<P> +The next morning, the Hon. Captain Henry Somerset and myself exchanged +nineteen shots in the glen, and at each fire I shot away a button from +his uniform. As my last bullet shot off the last button from his +sleeve, I remarked quietly, "You seem now, my lord, to be almost as +ragged as the gentry you sneered at," and rode haughtily away. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER II. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE FIGHTING FIFTY-SIXTH. +</H3> + +<P> +When I was nineteen years old my father sold the Chateau d'Enville and +purchased my commission in the "Fifty-sixth" with the proceeds. "I say, +Denville," said young McSpadden, a boy-faced ensign, who had just +joined, "you'll represent the estate in the Army, if you won't in the +House." Poor fellow, he paid for his meaningless joke with his life, +for I shot him through the heart the next morning. "You're a good +fellow, Denville," said the poor boy faintly, as I knelt beside him: +"good by!" For the first time since my grandfather's death I wept. I +could not help thinking that I would have been a better man if +Blanche—but why proceed? Was she not now in Florence—the belle of +the English Embassy? +</P> + +<P> +But Napoleon had returned from Elba. Europe was in a blaze of +excitement. The Allies were preparing to resist the Man of Destiny. +We were ordered from Gibraltar home, and were soon again en route for +Brussels. I did not regret that I was to be placed in active service. +I was ambitious, and longed for an opportunity to distinguish myself. +My garrison life in Gibraltar had been monotonous and dull. I had +killed five men in duel, and had an affair with the colonel of my +regiment, who handsomely apologized before the matter assumed a serious +aspect. I had been twice in love. Yet these were but boyish freaks +and follies. I wished to be a man. +</P> + +<P> +The time soon came,—the morning of Waterloo. But why describe that +momentous battle, on which the fate of the entire world was hanging? +Twice were the Fifty-sixth surrounded by French cuirassiers, and twice +did we mow them down by our fire. I had seven horses shot under me, +and was mounting the eighth, when an orderly rode up hastily, touched +his cap, and, handing me a despatch, galloped rapidly away. +</P> + +<P> +I opened it hurriedly and read:— +</P> + +<P> +"LET PICTON ADVANCE IMMEDIATELY ON THE RIGHT." +</P> + +<P> +I saw it all at a glance. I had been mistaken for a general officer. +But what was to be done? Picton's division was two miles away, only +accessible through a heavy cross fire of artillery and musketry. But +my mind was made up. +</P> + +<P> +In an instant I was engaged with an entire squadron of cavalry, who +endeavored to surround me. Cutting my way through them, I advanced +boldly upon a battery and sabred the gunners before they could bring +their pieces to bear. Looking around, I saw that I had in fact +penetrated the French centre. Before I was well aware of the locality, +I was hailed by a sharp voice in French,— +</P> + +<P> +"Come here, sir!" +</P> + +<P> +I obeyed, and advanced to the side of a little man in a cocked hat. +</P> + +<P> +"Has Grouchy come?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not yet, sire," I replied,—for it was the Emperor. +</P> + +<P> +"Ha!" he said suddenly, bending his piercing eyes on my uniform; "a +prisoner?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, sire," I said, proudly. +</P> + +<P> +"A spy?" +</P> + +<P> +I placed my hand upon my sword, but a gesture from the Emperor bade me +forbear. +</P> + +<P> +"You are a brave man," he said. +</P> + +<P> +I took my snuff-box from my pocket, and, taking a pinch, replied by +handing it, with a bow, to the Emperor. +</P> + +<P> +His quick eye caught the cipher on the lid. "What! a D'Enville? Ha! +this accounts for the purity of your accent. Any relation to Roderick +d'Enville?" +</P> + +<P> +"My father, sire." +</P> + +<P> +"He was my school-fellow at the Ecole Polytechnique. Embrace me!" And +the Emperor fell upon my neck in the presence of his entire staff. +Then, recovering himself, he gently placed in my hand his own +magnificent snuff-box, in exchange for mine, and hanging upon my breast +the cross of the Legion of Honor which he took from his own, he bade +one of his Marshals conduct me back to my regiment. +</P> + +<P> +I was so intoxicated with the honor of which I had been the recipient, +that on reaching our lines I uttered a shout of joy and put spurs to my +horse. The intelligent animal seemed to sympathize with my feelings, +and fairly flew over the ground. On a rising eminence a few yards +before me stood a gray-haired officer, surrounded by his staff. I +don't know what possessed me, but putting spurs to my horse, I rode at +him boldly, and with one bound cleared him, horse and all. A shout of +indignation arose from the assembled staff. I wheeled suddenly, with +the intention of apologizing, but my mare misunderstood me, and, again +dashing forward, once more vaulted over the head of the officer, this +time unfortunately uncovering him by a vicious kick of her hoof. +"Seize him!" roared the entire army. I was seized. As the soldiers +led me away, I asked the name of the gray-haired officer. "That—why, +that's the DUKE OF WELLINGTON!" +</P> + +<P> +I fainted. +</P> + +<HR ALIGN="center" WIDTH="60%"> + +<P> +For six months I had brain-fever. During my illness ten grapeshot were +extracted from my body which I had unconsciously received during the +battle. When I opened my eyes I met the sweet glance of a Sister of +Charity. +</P> + +<P> +"Blanche!" I stammered feebly. +</P> + +<P> +"The same," she replied. +</P> + +<P> +"You here?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, dear; but hush! It's a long story. You see, dear Terence, your +grandfather married my great-aunt's sister, and your father again +married my grandmother's niece, who, dying without a will, was, +according to the French law—" +</P> + +<P> +"But I do not comprehend," I said. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course not," said Blanche, with her old sweet smile; "you've had +brain-fever; so go to sleep." +</P> + +<P> +I understood, however, that Blanche loved me; and I am now, dear +reader, Sir Terence Sackville, K. C. B., and Lady Blanche is Lady +Sackville. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="selina"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +SELINA SEDILIA. +</H2> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BY MISS M. E. B—DD—N AND MRS. H—N—Y W—D. +</H3> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER I. +</H3> + +<P> +The sun was setting over Sloperton Grange, and reddened the window of +the lonely chamber in the western tower, supposed to be haunted by Sir +Edward Sedilia, the founder of the Grange. In the dreamy distance +arose the gilded mausoleum of Lady Felicia Sedilia, who haunted that +portion of Sedilia Manor, known as "Stiff-uns Acre." A little to the +left of the Grange might have been seen a mouldering ruin, known as +"Guy's Keep," haunted by the spirit of Sir Guy Sedilia, who was found, +one morning, crushed by one of the fallen battlements. Yet, as the +setting sun gilded these objects, a beautiful and almost holy calm +seemed diffused about the Grange. +</P> + +<P> +The Lady Selina sat by an oriel window, overlooking the park. The sun +sank gently in the bosom of the German Ocean, and yet the lady did not +lift her beautiful head from the finely curved arm and diminutive hand +which supported it. When darkness finally shrouded the landscape she +started, for the sound of horse-hoofs clattered over the stones of the +avenue. She had scarcely risen before an aristocratic young man fell +on his knees before her. +</P> + +<P> +"My Selina!" +</P> + +<P> +"Edgardo! You here?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, dearest." +</P> + +<P> +"And—you—you—have—seen nothing?" said the lady in an agitated voice +and nervous manner, turning her face aside to conceal her emotion. +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing—that is nothing of any account," said Edgardo. "I passed the +ghost of your aunt in the park, noticed the spectre of your uncle in +the ruined keep, and observed the familiar features of the spirit of +your great-grandfather at his usual post. But nothing beyond these +trifles, my Selina. Nothing more, love, absolutely nothing." +</P> + +<P> +The young man turned his dark liquid orbs fondly upon the ingenuous +face of his betrothed. +</P> + +<P> +"My own Edgardo!—and you still love me? You still would marry me in +spite of this dark mystery which surrounds me? In spite of the fatal +history of my race? In spite of the ominous predictions of my aged +nurse?" +</P> + +<P> +"I would, Selina"; and the young man passed his arm around her yielding +waist. The two lovers gazed at each other's faces in unspeakable +bliss. Suddenly Selina started. +</P> + +<P> +"Leave me, Edgardo! leave me! A mysterious something—a fatal +misgiving—a dark ambiguity—an equivocal mistrust oppresses me. I +would be alone!" +</P> + +<P> +The young man arose, and cast a loving glance on the lady. "Then we +will be married on the seventeenth." +</P> + +<P> +"The seventeenth," repeated Selina, with a mysterious shudder. +</P> + +<P> +They embraced and parted. As the clatter of hoofs in the court-yard +died away, the Lady Selina sank into the chair she had just quitted. +</P> + +<P> +"The seventeenth," she repeated slowly, with the same fateful shudder. +"Ah!—what if he should know that I have another husband living? Dare +I reveal to him that I have two legitimate and three natural children? +Dare I repeat to him the history of my youth? Dare I confess that at +the age of seven I poisoned my sister, by putting verdigris in her +cream-tarts,—that I threw my cousin from a swing at the age of twelve? +That the lady's-maid who incurred the displeasure of my girlhood now +lies at the bottom of the horse-pond? No! no! he is too pure,—too +good,—too innocent, to hear such improper conversation!" and her whole +body writhed as she rocked to and fro in a paroxysm of grief. +</P> + +<P> +But she was soon calm. Rising to her feet, she opened a secret panel +in the wall, and revealed a slow-match ready for lighting. +</P> + +<P> +"This match," said the Lady Selina, "is connected with a mine beneath +the western tower, where my three children are confined; another branch +of it lies under the parish church, where the record of my first +marriage is kept. I have only to light this match and the whole of my +past life is swept away!" she approached the match with a lighted +candle. +</P> + +<P> +But a hand was laid upon her arm, and with a shriek the Lady Selina +fell on her knees before the spectre of Sir Guy. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER II. +</H3> + +<P> +"Forbear, Selina," said the phantom in a hollow voice. +</P> + +<P> +"Why should I forbear?" responded Selina haughtily, as she recovered +her courage. "You know the secret of our race?" +</P> + +<P> +"I do. Understand me,—I do not object to the eccentricities of your +youth. I know the fearful destiny which, pursuing you, led you to +poison your sister and drown your lady's-maid. I know the awful doom +which I have brought upon this house! But if you make way with these +children—" +</P> + +<P> +"Well," said the Lady Selina, hastily. +</P> + +<P> +"They will haunt you!" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I fear them not," said Selina, drawing her superb figure to its +full height. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, but, my dear child, what place are they to haunt? The ruin is +sacred to your uncle's spirit. Your aunt monopolizes the park, and, I +must be allowed to state, not unfrequently trespasses upon the grounds +of others. The horse-pond is frequented by the spirit of your maid, +and your murdered sister walks these corridors. To be plain, there is +no room at Sloperton Grange for another ghost. I cannot have them in my +room,—for you know I don't like children. Think of this, rash girl, +and forbear! Would you, Selina," said the phantom, mournfully,—"would +you force your great-grandfather's spirit to take lodgings elsewhere?" +</P> + +<P> +Lady Selina's hand trembled; the lighted candle fell from her nerveless +fingers. +</P> + +<P> +"No," she cried passionately; "never!" and fell fainting to the floor. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER III +</H3> + +<P> +Edgardo galloped rapidly towards Sloperton. When the outline of the +Grange had faded away in the darkness, he reined his magnificent steed +beside the ruins of Guy's Keep. +</P> + +<P> +"It wants but a few minutes of the hour," he said, consulting his watch +by the light of the moon. "He dare not break his word. He will come." +He paused, and peered anxiously into the darkness. "But come what may, +she is mine," he continued, as his thoughts reverted fondly to the fair +lady he had quitted. "Yet if she knew all. If she knew that I were a +disgraced and ruined man,—a felon and an outcast. If she knew that at +the age of fourteen I murdered my Latin tutor and forged my uncle's +will. If she knew that I had three wives already, and that the fourth +victim of misplaced confidence and my unfortunate peculiarity is +expected to be at Sloperton by to-night's train with her baby. But no; +she must not know it. Constance must not arrive. Burke the Slogger +must attend to that. +</P> + +<P> +"Ha! here he is! Well?" +</P> + +<P> +These words were addressed to a ruffian in a slouched hat, who suddenly +appeared from Guy's Keep. +</P> + +<P> +"I be's here, measter," said the villain, with a disgracefully low +accent and complete disregard of grammatical rules. +</P> + +<P> +"It is well. Listen: I'm in possession of facts that will send you to +the gallows. I know of the murder of Bill Smithers, the robbery of the +tollgate-keeper, and the making away of the youngest daughter of Sir +Reginald de Walton. A word from me, and the officers of justice are on +your track." +</P> + +<P> +Burke the Slogger trembled. +</P> + +<P> +"Hark ye! serve my purpose, and I may yet save you. The 5.30 train +from Clapham will be due at Sloperton at 9.25. IT MUST NOT ARRIVE!" +</P> + +<P> +The villain's eyes sparkled as he nodded at Edgardo. +</P> + +<P> +"Enough,—you understand; leave me!" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IV. +</H3> + +<P> +About half a mile from Sloperton Station the South Clapham and Medway +line crossed a bridge over Sloperton-on-Trent. As the shades of +evening were closing, a man in a slouched hat might have been seen +carrying a saw and axe under his arm, hanging about the bridge. From +time to time he disappeared in the shadow of its abutments, but the +sound of a saw and axe still betrayed his vicinity. At exactly nine +o'clock he reappeared, and, crossing to the Sloperton side, rested his +shoulder against the abutment and gave a shove. The bridge swayed a +moment, and then fell with a splash into the water, leaving a space of +one hundred feet between the two banks. This done, Burke the +Slogger,—for it was he,—with a fiendish chuckle seated himself on the +divided railway track and awaited the coming of the train. +</P> + +<P> +A shriek from the woods announced its approach. For an instant Burke +the Slogger saw the glaring of a red lamp. The ground trembled. The +train was going with fearful rapidity. Another second and it had +reached the bank. Burke the Slogger uttered a fiendish laugh. But the +next moment the train leaped across the chasm, striking the rails +exactly even, and, dashing out the life of Burke the Slogger, sped away +to Sloperton. +</P> + +<P> +The first object that greeted Edgardo, as he rode up to the station on +the arrival of the train, was the body of Burke the Slogger hanging on +the cow-catcher; the second was the face of his deserted wife looking +from the windows of a second-class carriage. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER V. +</H3> + +<P> +A nameless terror seemed to have taken possession of Clarissa, Lady +Selina's maid, as she rushed into the presence of her mistress. +</P> + +<P> +"O my lady, such news!" +</P> + +<P> +"Explain yourself," said her mistress, rising. +</P> + +<P> +"An accident has happened on the railway, and a man has been killed." +</P> + +<P> +"What—not Edgardo!" almost screamed Selina. +</P> + +<P> +"No, Burke the Slogger!" your ladyship. +</P> + +<P> +"My first husband!" said Lady Selina, sinking on her knees. "Just +Heaven, I thank thee!" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VI. +</H3> + +<P> +The morning of the seventeenth dawned brightly over Sloperton. "A fine +day for the wedding," said the sexton to Swipes, the butler of +Sloperton Grange. The aged retainer shook his head sadly. "Alas! +there's no trusting in signs!" he continued. "Seventy-five years ago, +on a day like this, my young mistress—" But he was cut short by the +appearance of a stranger. +</P> + +<P> +"I would see Sir Edgardo," said the new-comer, impatiently. +</P> + +<P> +The bridegroom, who, with the rest of the wedding-train, was about +stepping into the carriage to proceed to the parish church, drew the +stranger aside. +</P> + +<P> +"It's done!" said the stranger, in a hoarse whisper. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah! and you buried her?" +</P> + +<P> +"With the others!" +</P> + +<P> +"Enough. No more at present. Meet me after the ceremony, and you +shall have your reward." +</P> + +<P> +The stranger shuffled away, and Edgardo returned to his bride. "A +trifling matter of business I had forgotten, my dear Selina; let us +proceed." And the young man pressed the timid hand of his blushing +bride as he handed her into the carriage. The cavalcade rode out of +the court-yard. At the same moment, the deep bell on Guy's Keep tolled +ominously. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VII. +</H3> + +<P> +Scarcely had the wedding-train left the Grange, than Alice Sedilia, +youngest daughter of Lady Selina, made her escape from the western +tower, owing to a lack of watchfulness on the part of Clarissa. The +innocent child, freed from restraint, rambled through the lonely +corridors, and finally, opening a door, found herself in her mother's +boudoir. For some time she amused herself by examining the various +ornaments and elegant trifles with which it was filled. Then, in +pursuance of a childish freak, she dressed herself in her mother's +laces and ribbons. In this occupation she chanced to touch a peg which +proved to be a spring that opened a secret panel in the wall. Alice +uttered a cry of delight as she noticed what, to her childish fancy, +appeared to be the slow-match of a fire-work. Taking a lucifer match in +her hand she approached the fuse. She hesitated a moment. What would +her mother and her nurse say? +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly the ringing of the chimes of Sloperton parish church met her +ear. Alice knew that the sound signified that the marriage party had +entered the church, and that she was secure from interruption. With a +childish smile upon her lips, Alice Sedilia touched off the slow-match. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VIII. +</H3> + +<P> +At exactly two o'clock on the seventeenth, Rupert Sedilia, who had just +returned from India, was thoughtfully descending the hill toward +Sloperton manor. "If I can prove that my aunt Lady Selina was married +before my father died, I can establish my claim to Sloperton Grange," +he uttered, half aloud. He paused, for a sudden trembling of the earth +beneath his feet, and a terrific explosion, as of a park of artillery, +arrested his progress. At the same moment he beheld a dense cloud of +smoke envelop the churchyard of Sloperton, and the western tower of the +Grange seemed to be lifted bodily from its foundation. The air seemed +filled with falling fragments, and two dark objects struck the earth +close at his feet. Rupert picked them up. One seemed to be a heavy +volume bound in brass. +</P> + +<P> +A cry burst from his lips. +</P> + +<P> +"The Parish Records." He opened the volume hastily. It contained the +marriage of Lady Selina to "Burke the Slogger." +</P> + +<P> +The second object proved to be a piece of parchment. He tore it open +with trembling fingers. It was the missing will of Sir James Sedilia! +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IX. +</H3> + +<P> +When the bells again rang on the new parish church of Sloperton it was +for the marriage of Sir Rupert Sedilia and his cousin, the only +remaining members of the family. +</P> + +<P> +Five more ghosts were added to the supernatural population of Sloperton +Grange. Perhaps this was the reason why Sir Rupert sold the property +shortly afterward, and that for many years a dark shadow seemed to hang +over the ruins of Sloperton Grange. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="guardsmen"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +THE NINETY-NINE GUARDSMEN. +</H2> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BY AL—X—D—R D—M—S +</H3> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER I. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +SHOWING THE QUALITY OF THE CUSTOMERS OF THE INNKEEPER OF PROVINS. +</H3> + +<P> +Twenty years after, the gigantic innkeeper of Provins stood looking at +a cloud of dust on the highway. +</P> + +<P> +This cloud of dust betokened the approach of a traveller. Travellers +had been rare that season on the highway between Paris and Provins. +</P> + +<P> +The heart of the innkeeper rejoiced. Turning to Dame Perigord, his +wife, he said, stroking his white apron:— +</P> + +<P> +"St. Denis! make haste and spread the cloth. Add a bottle of +Charlevoix to the table. This traveller, who rides so fast, by his +pace must be a Monseigneur." +</P> + +<P> +Truly the traveller, clad in the uniform of a musketeer, as he drew up +to the door of the hostelry, did not seem to have spared his horse. +Throwing his reins to the landlord, he leaped lightly to the ground. +He was a young man of four-and-twenty, and spoke with a slight Gascon +accent. +</P> + +<P> +"I am hungry, Morbleu! I wish to dine!" +</P> + +<P> +The gigantic innkeeper bowed and led the way to a neat apartment, where +a table stood covered with tempting viands. The musketeer at once set +to work. Fowls, fish, and pates disappeared before him. Perigord +sighed as he witnessed the devastations. Only once the stranger paused. +</P> + +<P> +"Wine!" Perigord brought wine. The stranger drank a dozen bottles. +Finally he rose to depart. Turning to the expectant landlord, he +said:— +</P> + +<P> +"Charge it." +</P> + +<P> +"To whom, your highness?" said Perigord, anxiously. +</P> + +<P> +"To his Eminence!" +</P> + +<P> +"Mazarin!" ejaculated the innkeeper. +</P> + +<P> +"The same. Bring me my horse," and the musketeer, remounting his +favorite animal, rode away. +</P> + +<P> +The innkeeper slowly turned back into the inn. Scarcely had he reached +the courtyard before the clatter of hoofs again called him to the +doorway. A young musketeer of a light and graceful figure rode up. +</P> + +<P> +"Parbleu, my dear Perigord, I am famishing. What have you got for +dinner?" +</P> + +<P> +"Venison, capons, larks, and pigeons, your excellency," replied the +obsequious landlord, bowing to the ground. +</P> + +<P> +"Enough!" The young musketeer dismounted and entered the inn. Seating +himself at the table replenished by the careful Perigord, he speedily +swept it as clean as the first comer. +</P> + +<P> +"Some wine, my brave Perigord," said the graceful young musketeer, as +soon as he could find utterance. +</P> + +<P> +Perigord brought three dozen of Charlevoix. The young man emptied them +almost at a draught. +</P> + +<P> +"By-by, Perigord," he said lightly, waving his hand, as, preceding the +astonished landlord, he slowly withdrew. +</P> + +<P> +"But, your highness,—the bill," said the astounded Perigord. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, the bill. Charge it!" +</P> + +<P> +"To whom?" +</P> + +<P> +"The Queen!" +</P> + +<P> +"What, Madame?" +</P> + +<P> +"The same. Adieu, my good Perigord." And the graceful stranger rode +away. An interval of quiet succeeded, in which the innkeeper gazed +wofully at his wife. Suddenly he was startled by a clatter of hoofs, +and an aristocratic figure stood in the doorway. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah," said the courtier good-naturedly. "What, do my eyes deceive me? +No, it is the festive and luxurious Perigord. Perigord, listen. I +famish. I languish. I would dine." +</P> + +<P> +The innkeeper again covered the table with viands. Again it was swept +clean as the fields of Egypt before the miraculous swarm of locusts. +The stranger looked up. +</P> + +<P> +"Bring me another fowl, my Perigord." +</P> + +<P> +"Impossible, your excellency; the larder is stripped clean." +</P> + +<P> +"Another flitch of bacon, then." +</P> + +<P> +"Impossible, your highness; there is no more." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, then, wine!" +</P> + +<P> +The landlord brought one hundred and forty-four bottles. The courtier +drank them all. +</P> + +<P> +"One may drink if one cannot eat," said the aristocratic stranger, +good-humoredly. +</P> + +<P> +The innkeeper shuddered. +</P> + +<P> +The guest rose to depart. The innkeeper came slowly forward with his +bill, to which he had covertly added the losses which he had suffered +from the previous strangers. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, the bill. Charge it." +</P> + +<P> +"Charge it! to whom?" +</P> + +<P> +"To the King," said the guest. +</P> + +<P> +"What! his Majesty?" +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly. Farewell, Perigord." +</P> + +<P> +The innkeeper groaned. Then he went out and took down his sign. Then +remarked to his wife:— +</P> + +<P> +"I am a plain man, and don't understand politics. It seems, however, +that the country is in a troubled state. Between his Eminence the +Cardinal, his Majesty the King, and her Majesty the Queen, I am a +ruined man." +</P> + +<P> +"Stay," said Dame Perigord, "I have an idea." +</P> + +<P> +"And that is—" +</P> + +<P> +"Become yourself a musketeer." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER II. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE COMBAT. +</H3> + +<P> +On leaving Provins the first musketeer proceeded to Nangis, where he +was reinforced by thirty-three followers. The second musketeer, +arriving at Nangis at the same moment, placed himself at the head of +thirty-three more. The third guest of the landlord of Provins arrived +at Nangis in time to assemble together thirty-three other musketeers. +</P> + +<P> +The first stranger led the troops of his Eminence. +</P> + +<P> +The second led the troops of the Queen. +</P> + +<P> +The third led the troops of the King. +</P> + +<P> +The fight commenced. It raged terribly for seven hours. The first +musketeer killed thirty of the Queen's troops. The second musketeer +killed thirty of the King's troops. The third musketeer killed thirty +of his Eminence's troops. +</P> + +<P> +By this time it will be perceived the number of musketeers had been +narrowed down to four on each side. +</P> + +<P> +Naturally the three principal warriors approached each other. +</P> + +<P> +They simultaneously uttered a cry. +</P> + +<P> +"Aramis!" +</P> + +<P> +"Athos!" +</P> + +<P> +"D'Artagnan!" +</P> + +<P> +They fell into each other's arms. +</P> + +<P> +"And it seems that we are fighting against each other, my children," +said the Count de la Fere, mournfully. +</P> + +<P> +"How singular!" exclaimed Aramis and D'Artagnan. +</P> + +<P> +"Let us stop this fratricidal warfare," said Athos. +</P> + +<P> +"We will!" they exclaimed together. +</P> + +<P> +"But how to disband our followers?" queried D'Artagnan. +</P> + +<P> +Aramis winked. They understood each other. "Let us cut 'em down!" +</P> + +<P> +They cut 'em down. Aramis killed three. D'Artagnan three. Athos +three. +</P> + +<P> +The friends again embraced. "How like old times," said Aramis. "How +touching!" exclaimed the serious and philosophic Count de la Fere. +</P> + +<P> +The galloping of hoofs caused them to withdraw from each other's +embraces. A gigantic figure rapidly approached. +</P> + +<P> +"The innkeeper of Provins!" they cried, drawing their swords. +</P> + +<P> +"Perigord, down with him!" shouted D'Artagnan. +</P> + +<P> +"Stay," said Athos. +</P> + +<P> +The gigantic figure was beside them. He uttered a cry. +</P> + +<P> +"Athos, Aramis, D'Artagnan!" +</P> + +<P> +"Porthos!" exclaimed the astonished trio. +</P> + +<P> +"The same." They all fell in each other's arms. +</P> + +<P> +The Count de la Fere slowly raised his hands to Heaven. "Bless you! +Bless us, my children! However different our opinion may be in regard +to politics, we have but one opinion in regard to our own merits. +Where can you find a better man than Aramus?" +</P> + +<P> +"Than Porthos?" said Aramis. +</P> + +<P> +"Than D'Artagnan?" said Porthos. +</P> + +<P> +"Than Athos?" said D'Artagnan. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER III. +</H3> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +SHOWING HOW THE KING OF FRANCE WENT UP A LADDER. +</H3> + +<P> +The King descended into the garden. Proceeding cautiously along the +terraced walk, he came to the wall immediately below the windows of +Madame. To the left were two windows, concealed by vines. They opened +into the apartments of La Valliere. +</P> + +<P> +The King sighed. +</P> + +<P> +"It is about nineteen feet to that window," said the King. "If I had a +ladder about nineteen feet long, it would reach to that window. This +is logic." +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly the King stumbled over something. "St. Denis!" he exclaimed, +looking down. It was a ladder, just nineteen feet long. +</P> + +<P> +The King placed it against the wall. In so doing, he fixed the lower +end upon the abdomen of a man who lay concealed by the wall The man did +not utter a cry or wince. The King suspected nothing. He ascended the +ladder. +</P> + +<P> +The ladder was too short. Louis the Grand was not a tall man. He was +still two feet below the window. +</P> + +<P> +"Dear me!" said the King. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly the ladder was lifted two feet from below. This enabled the +King to leap in the window. At the farther end of the apartment stood +a young girl, with red hair and a lame leg. She was trembling with +emotion. +</P> + +<P> +"Louise!" +</P> + +<P> +"The King!" +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, my God, mademoiselle." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, my God, sire." +</P> + +<P> +But a low knock at the door interrupted the lovers. The King uttered a +cry of rage; Louise one of despair. +</P> + +<P> +The door opened and D'Artagnan entered. +</P> + +<P> +"Good evening, sire," said the musketeer. +</P> + +<P> +The King touched a bell. Porthos appeared in the doorway. +</P> + +<P> +"Good evening, sire." +</P> + +<P> +"Arrest M. D'Artagnan." +</P> + +<P> +Porthos looked at D'Artagnan, and did not move. +</P> + +<P> +The King almost turned purple with rage. He again touched the bell. +Athos entered. +</P> + +<P> +"Count, arrest Porthos and D'Artagnan." +</P> + +<P> +The Count de la Fere glanced at Porthos and D'Artagnan, and smiled +sweetly. +</P> + +<P> +"Sacre! Where is Aramis?" said the King, violently. +</P> + +<P> +"Here, sire," and Aramis entered. +</P> + +<P> +"Arrest Athos, Porthos, and D'Artagnan." +</P> + +<P> +Aramis bowed and folded his arms. +</P> + +<P> +"Arrest yourself!" +</P> + +<P> +Aramis did not move. +</P> + +<P> +The King shuddered and turned pale. "Am I not King of France?" +</P> + +<P> +"Assuredly, sire, but we are also severally, Porthos, Aramis, +D'Artagnan, and Athos." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah!" said the King. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sire." +</P> + +<P> +"What does this mean?" +</P> + +<P> +"It means, your Majesty," said Aramis, stepping forward, "that your +conduct as a married man is highly improper. I am an Abbe, and I +object to these improprieties. My friends here, D'Artagnan, Athos, and +Porthos, pure-minded young men, are also terribly shocked. Observe, +sire, how they blush!" +</P> + +<P> +Athos, Porthos, and D'Artagnan blushed. "Ah," said the King, +thoughtfully. "You teach me a lesson. You are devoted and noble young +gentlemen, but your only weakness is your excessive modesty. From this +moment I make you all Marshals and Dukes, with the exception of Aramis." +</P> + +<P> +"And me, sire?" said Aramis. +</P> + +<P> +"You shall be an Archbishop!" +</P> + +<P> +The four friends looked up and then rushed into each other's arms. The +King embraced Louise de la Valliere, by way of keeping them company. A +pause ensued. At last Athos spoke:— +</P> + +<P> +"Swear, my children, that, next to yourselves, you will respect the +King of France; and remember that 'Forty years after' we will meet +again." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="dweller"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +THE DWELLER OF THE THRESHOLD. +</H2> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BY SIR ED—D L—TT—N B—LW—R. +</H3> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BOOK I. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE PROMPTINGS OF THE IDEAL. +</H3> + +<P> +It was noon. Sir Edward had stepped from his brougham and was +proceeding on foot down the Strand. He was dressed with his usual +faultless taste, but in alighting from his vehicle his foot had +slipped, and a small round disk of conglomerated soil, which instantly +appeared on his high arched instep, marred the harmonious glitter of +his boots. Sir Edward was fastidious. Casting his eyes around, at a +little distance he perceived the stand of a youthful bootblack. +Thither he sauntered, and carelessly placing his foot on the low stool, +he waited the application of the polisher's art. "'Tis true," said Sir +Edward to himself, yet half aloud, "the contact of the Foul and the +Disgusting mars the general effect of the Shiny and the Beautiful—and, +yet, why am I here? I repeat it, calmly and deliberately—why am I +here? Ha! Boy!" +</P> + +<P> +The Boy looked up—his dark Italian eyes glanced intelligently at the +Philosopher, and as with one hand he tossed back his glossy curls, from +his marble brow, and with the other he spread the equally glossy Day & +Martin over the Baronet's boot, he answered in deep rich tones: "The +Ideal is subjective to the Real. The exercise of apperception gives a +distinctiveness to idiocracy, which is, however, subject to the limits +of ME. You are an admirer of the Beautiful, sir. You wish your boots +blacked. The Beautiful is attainable by means of the Coin." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah," said Sir Edward thoughtfully, gazing upon the almost supernal +beauty of the Child before him; "you speak well. You have read Kant." +</P> + +<P> +The Boy blushed deeply. He drew a copy of Kant from his blouse, but in +his confusion several other volumes dropped from his bosom on the +ground. The Baronet picked them up. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah!" said the Philosopher, "what's this? Cicero's De Senectute, at +your age, too? Martial's Epigrams, Caesar's Commentaries. What! a +classical scholar?" +</P> + +<P> +"E pluribus Unum. Nux vomica. Nil desperandum. Nihil fit!" said the +Boy, enthusiastically. The Philosopher gazed at the Child. A strange +presence seemed to transfuse and possess him. Over the brow of the Boy +glittered the pale nimbus of the Student. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, and Schiller's Robbers, too?" queried the Philosopher. +</P> + +<P> +"Das ist ausgespielt," said the Boy, modestly. +</P> + +<P> +"Then you have read my translation of Schiller's Ballads?" continued +the Baronet, with some show of interest. +</P> + +<P> +"I have, and infinitely prefer them to the original," said the Boy, +with intellectual warmth. "You have shown how in Actual life we strive +for a Goal we cannot reach; how in the Ideal the Goal is attainable, +and there effort is victory. You have given us the Antithesis which is +a key to the Remainder, and constantly balances before us the +conditions of the Actual and the privileges of the Ideal." +</P> + +<P> +"My very words," said the Baronet; "wonderful, wonderful!" and he gazed +fondly at the Italian boy, who again resumed his menial employment. +Alas! the wings of the Ideal were folded. The Student had been +absorbed in the Boy. +</P> + +<P> +But Sir Edward's boots were blacked, and he turned to depart. Placing +his hand upon the clustering tendrils that surrounded the classic nob +of the infant Italian, he said softly, like a strain of distant music:— +</P> + +<P> +"Boy, you have done well. Love the Good. Protect the Innocent. +Provide for The Indigent. Respect the Philosopher. . . . Stay! Can +you tell we what IS The True, The Beautiful, The Innocent, The +Virtuous?" +</P> + +<P> +"They are things that commence with a capital letter," said the Boy, +promptly. +</P> + +<P> +"Enough! Respect everything that commences with a capital letter! +Respect ME!" and dropping a half-penny in the hand of the boy, he +departed. +</P> + +<P> +The Boy gazed fixedly at the coin. A frightful and instantaneous +change overspread his features. His noble brow was corrugated with +baser lines of calculation. His black eye, serpent-like, glittered +with suppressed passion. Dropping upon his hands and feet, he crawled +to the curbstone and hissed after the retreating form of the Baronet, +the single word:— +</P> + +<P> +"Bilk!" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BOOK II. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +IN THE WORLD. +</H3> + +<P> +"Eleven years ago," said Sir Edward to himself, as his brougham slowly +rolled him toward the Committee Room; "just eleven years ago my natural +son disappeared mysteriously. I have no doubt in the world but that +this little bootblack is he. His mother died in Italy. He resembles +his mother very much. Perhaps I ought to provide for him. Shall I +disclose myself? No! no! Better he should taste the sweets of Labor. +Penury ennobles the mind and kindles the Love of the Beautiful. I will +act to him, not like a Father, not like a Guardian, not like a +Friend—but like a Philosopher!" +</P> + +<P> +With these words, Sir Edward entered the Committee Room. His Secretary +approached him. "Sir Edward, there are fears of a division in the +House, and the Prime Minister has sent for you." +</P> + +<P> +"I will be there," said Sir Edward, as he placed his hand on his chest +and uttered a hollow cough! +</P> + +<P> +No one who heard the Baronet that night, in his sarcastic and withering +speech on the Drainage and Sewerage Bill, would have recognized the +lover of the Ideal and the Philosopher of the Beautiful. No one who +listened to his eloquence would have dreamed of the Spartan resolution +this iron man had taken in regard to the Lost Boy—his own beloved +Lionel. None! +</P> + +<P> +"A fine speech from Sir Edward to-night," said Lord Billingsgate, as, +arm-and-arm with the Premier, he entered his carriage. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes! but how dreadfully he coughs!" +</P> + +<P> +"Exactly. Dr. Bolus says his lungs are entirely gone; he breathes +entirely by an effort of will, and altogether independent of pulmonary +assistance." +</P> + +<P> +"How strange!" and the carriage rolled away. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BOOK III. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE DWELLER OF THE THRESHOLD. +</H3> + +<P> +"ADON AI, appear! appear!" +</P> + +<P> +And as the Seer spoke, the awful Presence glided out of Nothingness, +and sat, sphinx-like, at the feet of the Alchemist. +</P> + +<P> +"I am come!" said the Thing. +</P> + +<P> +"You should say, 'I have come,'—it's better grammar," said the +Boy-Neophyte, thoughtfully accenting the substituted expression. +</P> + +<P> +"Hush, rash Boy," said the Seer, sternly. "Would you oppose your +feeble knowledge to the infinite intelligence of the Unmistakable? A +word, and you are lost forever." +</P> + +<P> +The Boy breathed a silent prayer, and, handing a sealed package to the +Seer, begged him to hand it to his father in case of his premature +decease. +</P> + +<P> +"You have sent for me," hissed the Presence. "Behold me, +Apokatharticon,—the Unpronounceable. In me all things exist that are +not already coexistent. I am the Unattainable, the Intangible, the +Cause, and the Effect. In me observe the Brahma of Mr. Emerson; not +only Brahma himself, but also the sacred musical composition rehearsed +by the faithful Hindoo. I am the real Gyges. None others are genuine." +</P> + +<P> +And the veiled Son of the Starbeam laid himself loosely about the room, +and permeated Space generally. +</P> + +<P> +"Unfathomable Mystery," said the Rosicrucian in a low, sweet voice. +"Brave Child with the Vitreous Optic! Thou who pervadest all things +and rubbest against us without abrasion of the cuticle. I command +thee, speak!" +</P> + +<P> +And the misty, intangible, indefinite Presence spoke. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BOOK IV. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +MYSELF. +</H3> + +<P> +After the events related in the last chapter, the reader will perceive +that nothing was easier than to reconcile Sir Edward to his son Lionel, +nor to resuscitate the beautiful Italian girl, who, it appears, was not +dead, and to cause Sir Edward to marry his first and boyish love, whom +he had deserted. They were married in St. George's, Hanover Square. +As the bridal party stood before the altar, Sir Edward, with a sweet +sad smile, said, in quite his old manner:— +</P> + +<P> +"The Sublime and Beautiful are the Real; the only Ideal is the +Ridiculous and Homely. Let us always remember this. Let us through +life endeavor to personify the virtues, and always begin 'em with a +capital letter. Let us, whenever we can find an opportunity, deliver +our sentiments in the form of round-hand copies. Respect the Aged. +Eschew Vulgarity. Admire Ourselves. Regard the Novelist." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="haunted"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +THE HAUNTED MAN. +</H2> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +A CHRISTMAS STORY. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BY CH—R—S D—CK—NS. +</H3> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +PART I. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE FIRST PHANTOM. +</H3> + +<P> +Don't tell me that it wasn't a knocker. I had seen it often enough, +and I ought to know. So ought the three-o'clock beer, in dirty +high-lows, swinging himself over the railing, or executing a demoniacal +jig upon the doorstep; so ought the butcher, although butchers as a +general thing are scornful of such trifles; so ought the postman, to +whom knockers of the most extravagant description were merely human +weaknesses, that were to be pitied and used. And so ought, for the +matter of that, etc., etc., etc. +</P> + +<P> +But then it was SUCH a knocker. A wild, extravagant, and utterly +incomprehensible knocker. A knocker so mysterious and suspicious that +Policeman X 37, first coming upon it, felt inclined to take it +instantly in custody, but compromised with his professional instincts +by sharply and sternly noting it with an eye that admitted of no +nonsense, but confidently expected to detect its secret yet. An ugly +knocker; a knocker with a hard, human face, that was a type of the +harder human face within. A human face that held between its teeth a +brazen rod. So hereafter, in the mysterious future should be held, +etc., etc. +</P> + +<P> +But if the knocker had a fierce human aspect in the glare of day, you +should have seen it at night, when it peered out of the gathering +shadows and suggested an ambushed figure; when the light of the street +lamps fell upon it, and wrought a play of sinister expression in its +hard outlines; when it seemed to wink meaningly at a shrouded figure +who, as the night fell darkly, crept up the steps and passed into the +mysterious house; when the swinging door disclosed a black passage into +which the figure seemed to lose itself and become a part of the +mysterious gloom; when the night grew boisterous and the fierce wind +made furious charges at the knocker, as if to wrench it off and carry +it away in triumph. Such a night as this. +</P> + +<P> +It was a wild and pitiless wind. A wind that had commenced life as a +gentle country zephyr, but wandering through manufacturing towns had +become demoralized, and reaching the city had plunged into extravagant +dissipation and wild excesses. A roistering wind that indulged in +Bacchanalian shouts on the street corners, that knocked off the hats +from the heads of helpless passengers, and then fulfilled its duties by +speeding away, like all young prodigals,—to sea. +</P> + +<P> +He sat alone in a gloomy library listening to the wind that roared in +the chimney. Around him novels and story-books were strewn thickly; in +his lap he held one with its pages freshly cut, and turned the leaves +wearily until his eyes rested upon a portrait in its frontispiece. And +as the wind howled the more fiercely, and the darkness without fell +blacker, a strange and fateful likeness to that portrait appeared above +his chair and leaned upon his shoulder. The Haunted Man gazed at the +portrait and sighed. The figure gazed at the portrait and sighed too. +</P> + +<P> +"Here again?" said the Haunted Man. +</P> + +<P> +"Here again," it repeated in a low voice. +</P> + +<P> +"Another novel?" +</P> + +<P> +"Another novel." +</P> + +<P> +"The old story?" +</P> + +<P> +"The old story." +</P> + +<P> +"I see a child," said the Haunted Man, gazing from the pages of the +book into the fire,—"a most unnatural child, a model infant. It is +prematurely old and philosophic. It dies in poverty to slow music. It +dies surrounded by luxury to slow music. It dies with an accompaniment +of golden water and rattling carts to slow music. Previous to its +decease it makes a will; it repeats the Lord's Prayer, it kisses the +'boofer lady.' That child—" +</P> + +<P> +"Is mine," said the phantom. +</P> + +<P> +"I see a good woman, undersized. I see several charming women, but +they are all undersized. They are more or less imbecile and idiotic, +but always fascinating and undersized. They wear coquettish caps and +aprons. I observe that feminine virtue is invariably below the medium +height, and that it is always simple and infantine. These women—" +</P> + +<P> +"Are mine." +</P> + +<P> +"I see a haughty, proud, and wicked lady. She is tall and queenly. I +remark that all proud and wicked women are tall and queenly. That +woman—" +</P> + +<P> +"Is mine," said the phantom, wringing his hands. +</P> + +<P> +"I see several things continually impending. I observe that whenever +an accident, a murder, or death is about to happen, there is something +in the furniture, in the locality, in the atmosphere, that foreshadows +and suggests it years in advance. I cannot say that in real life I +have noticed it,—the perception of this surprising fact belongs—" +</P> + +<P> +"To me!" said the phantom. The Haunted Man continued, in a despairing +tone:— +</P> + +<P> +"I see the influence of this in the magazines and daily papers; I see +weak imitators rise up and enfeeble the world with senseless formula. +I am getting tired of it. It won't do, Charles! it won't do!" and the +Haunted Man buried his head in his hands and groaned. The figure looked +down upon him sternly: the portrait in the frontispiece frowned as he +gazed. +</P> + +<P> +"Wretched man," said the phantom, "and how have these things affected +you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Once I laughed and cried, but then I was younger. Now, I would forget +them if I could." +</P> + +<P> +"Have then your wish. And take this with you, man whom I renounce. +From this day henceforth you shall live with those whom I displace. +Without forgetting me, 't will be your lot to walk through life as if +we had not met. But first you shall survey these scenes that +henceforth must be yours. At one to-night, prepare to meet the phantom +I have raised. Farewell!" +</P> + +<P> +The sound of its voice seemed to fade away with the dying wind, and the +Haunted Man was alone. But the firelight flickered gayly, and the +light danced on the walls, making grotesque figures of the furniture. +</P> + +<P> +"Ha, ha!" said the Haunted Man, rubbing his hands gleefully; "now for a +whiskey punch and a cigar." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BOOK II. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE SECOND PHANTOM. +</H3> + +<P> +One! The stroke of the far-off bell had hardly died before the front +door closed with a reverberating clang. Steps were heard along the +passage; the library door swung open of itself, and the Knocker—yes, +the Knocker—slowly strode into the room. The Haunted Man rubbed his +eyes,—no! there could be no mistake about it,—it was the Knocker's +face, mounted on a misty, almost imperceptible body. The brazen rod +was transferred from its mouth to its right hand, where it was held +like a ghostly truncheon. +</P> + +<P> +"It's a cold evening," said the Haunted Man. +</P> + +<P> +"It is," said the Goblin, in a hard, metallic voice. +</P> + +<P> +"It must be pretty cold out there," said the Haunted Man, with vague +politeness. "Do you ever—will you—take some hot water and brandy?" +</P> + +<P> +"No," said the Goblin. +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps you'd like it cold, by way of change?" continued the Haunted +Man, correcting himself, as he remembered the peculiar temperature with +which the Goblin was probably familiar. +</P> + +<P> +"Time flies," said the Goblin coldly. "We have no leisure for idle +talk. Come!" He moved his ghostly truncheon toward the window, and +laid his hand upon the other's arm. At his touch the body of the +Haunted Man seemed to become as thin and incorporeal as that of the +Goblin himself, and together they glided out of the window into the +black and blowy night. +</P> + +<P> +In the rapidity of their flight the senses of the Haunted Man seemed to +leave him. At length they stopped suddenly. +</P> + +<P> +"What do you see?" asked the Goblin. +</P> + +<P> +"I see a battlemented mediaeval castle. Gallant men in mail ride over +the drawbridge, and kiss their gauntleted fingers to fair ladies, who +wave their lily hands in return. I see fight and fray and tournament. +I hear roaring heralds bawling the charms of delicate women, and +shamelessly proclaiming their lovers. Stay. I see a Jewess about to +leap from a battlement. I see knightly deeds, violence, rapine, and a +good deal of blood. I've seen pretty much the same at Astley's." +</P> + +<P> +"Look again." +</P> + +<P> +"I see purple moors, glens, masculine women, bare-legged men, priggish +book-worms, more violence, physical excellence, and blood. Always +blood,—and the superiority of physical attainments." +</P> + +<P> +"And how do you feel now?" said the Goblin. +</P> + +<P> +The Haunted Man shrugged his shoulders. "None the better for being +carried back and asked to sympathize with a barbarous age." +</P> + +<P> +The Goblin smiled and clutched his arm; they again sped rapidly through +the black night and again halted. +</P> + +<P> +"What do you see?" said the Goblin. +</P> + +<P> +"I see a barrack room, with a mess table, and a group of intoxicated +Celtic officers telling funny stories, and giving challenges to duel. +I see a young Irish gentleman capable of performing prodigies of valor. +I learn incidentally that the acme of all heroism is the cornetcy of a +dragoon regiment. I hear a good deal of French! No, thank you," said +the Haunted Man hurriedly, as he stayed the waving hand of the Goblin; +"I would rather NOT go to the Peninsula, and don't care to have a +private interview with Napoleon." +</P> + +<P> +Again the Goblin flew away with the unfortunate man, and from a strange +roaring below them he judged they were above the ocean. A ship hove in +sight, and the Goblin stayed its flight. "Look," he said, squeezing +his companion's arm. +</P> + +<P> +The Haunted Man yawned. "Don't you think, Charles, you're rather +running this thing into the ground? Of course it's very moral and +instructive, and all that. But ain't there a little too much pantomime +about it? Come now!" +</P> + +<P> +"Look!" repeated the Goblin, pinching his arm malevolently. The +Haunted Man groaned. +</P> + +<P> +"O, of course, I see her Majesty's ship Arethusa. Of course I am +familiar with her stern First Lieutenant, her eccentric Captain, her +one fascinating and several mischievous midshipmen. Of course I know +it's a splendid thing to see all this, and not to be seasick. O, there +the young gentlemen are going to play a trick on the purser. For God's +sake, let us go," and the unhappy man absolutely dragged the Goblin +away with him. +</P> + +<P> +When they next halted, it was at the edge of a broad and boundless +prairie, in the middle of an oak opening. +</P> + +<P> +"I see," said the Haunted Man, without waiting for his cue, but +mechanically, and as if he were repeating a lesson which the Goblin had +taught him,—"I see the Noble Savage. He is very fine to look at! But +I observe under his war-paint, feathers, and picturesque blanket, dirt, +disease, and an unsymmetrical contour. I observe beneath his inflated +rhetoric deceit and hypocrisy; beneath his physical hardihood, cruelty, +malice, and revenge. The Noble Savage is a humbug. I remarked the +same to Mr. Catlin." +</P> + +<P> +"Come," said the phantom. +</P> + +<P> +The Haunted Man sighed, and took out his watch. "Couldn't we do the +rest of this another time?" +</P> + +<P> +"My hour is almost spent, irreverent being, but there is yet a chance +for your reformation. Come!" +</P> + +<P> +Again they sped through the night, and again halted. The sound of +delicious but melancholy music fell upon their ears. +</P> + +<P> +"I see," said the Haunted Man, with something of interest in his +manner,—"I see an old moss-covered manse beside a sluggish, flowing +river. I see weird shapes: witches, Puritans, clergymen, little +children, judges, mesmerized maidens, moving to the sound of melody +that thrills me with its sweetness and purity. But, although carried +along its calm and evenly flowing current, the shapes are strange and +frightful: an eating lichen gnaws at the heart of each. Not only the +clergymen, but witch, maiden, judge, and Puritan, all wear Scarlet +Letters of some kind burned upon their hearts. I am fascinated and +thrilled, but I feel a morbid sensitiveness creeping over me. I—I beg +your pardon." The Goblin was yawning frightfully. "Well, perhaps we +had better go." +</P> + +<P> +"One more, and the last," said the Goblin. +</P> + +<P> +They were moving home. Streaks of red were beginning to appear in the +eastern sky. Along the banks of the blackly flowing river by moorland +and stagnant fens, by low houses, clustering close to the water's edge, +like strange mollusks, crawled upon the beach to dry; by misty black +barges, the more misty and indistinct seen through its mysterious veil, +the river fog was slowly rising. So rolled away and rose from the +heart of the Haunted Man, etc., etc. +</P> + +<P> +They stopped before a quaint mansion of red brick. The Goblin waved +his hand without speaking. +</P> + +<P> +"I see," said the Haunted Man, "a gay drawing-room. I see my old +friends of the club, of the college, of society, even as they lived and +moved. I see the gallant and unselfish men, whom I have loved, and the +snobs whom I have hated. I see strangely mingling with them, and now +and then blending with their forms, our old friends Dick Steele, +Addison, and Congreve. I observe, though, that these gentlemen have a +habit of getting too much in the way. The royal standard of Queen +Anne, not in itself a beautiful ornament, is rather too prominent in +the picture. The long galleries of black oak, the formal furniture, +the old portraits, are picturesque, but depressing. The house is damp. +I enjoy myself better here on the lawn, where they are getting up a +Vanity Fair. See, the bell rings, the curtain is rising, the puppets +are brought out for a new play. Let me see." +</P> + +<P> +The Haunted Man was pressing forward in his eagerness, but the hand of +the Goblin stayed him, and pointing to his feet he saw, between him and +the rising curtain, a new-made grave. And bending above the grave in +passionate grief, the Haunted Man beheld the phantom of the previous +night. +</P> + +<HR ALIGN="center" WIDTH="60%"> + +<P> +The Haunted Man started, and—woke. The bright sunshine streamed into +the room. The air was sparkling with frost. He ran joyously to the +window and opened it. A small boy saluted him with "Merry Christmas." +The Haunted Man instantly gave him a Bank of England note. "How much +like Tiny Tim, Tom, and Bobby that boy looked,—bless my soul, what a +genius this Dickens has!" +</P> + +<P> +A knock at the door, and Boots entered. +</P> + +<P> +"Consider your salary doubled instantly. Have you read David +Copperfield?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yezzur." +</P> + +<P> +"Your salary is quadrupled. What do you think of the Old Curiosity +Shop?" +</P> + +<P> +The man instantly burst into a torrent of tears, and then into a roar +of laughter. +</P> + +<P> +"Enough! Here are five thousand pounds. Open a porter-house, and call +it, 'Our Mutual Friend.' Huzza! I feel so happy!" And the haunted +Man danced about the room. +</P> + +<P> +And so, bathed in the light of that blessed sun, and yet glowing with +the warmth of a good action, the Haunted Man, haunted no longer, save +by those shapes which make the dreams of children beautiful, reseated +himself in his chair, and finished Our Mutual Friend. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="missmix"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +MISS MIX. +</H2> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BY CH—L—TTE BR—NTE. +</H3> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER I. +</H3> + +<P> +My earliest impressions are of a huge, misshapen rock, against which +the hoarse waves beat unceasingly. On this rock three pelicans are +standing in a defiant attitude. A dark sky lowers in the background, +while two sea-gulls and a gigantic cormorant eye with extreme disfavor +the floating corpse of a drowned woman in the foreground. A few +bracelets, coral necklaces, and other articles of jewelry, scattered +around loosely, complete this remarkable picture. +</P> + +<P> +It is one which, in some vague, unconscious way, symbolizes, to my +fancy, the character of a man. I have never been able to explain +exactly why. I think I must have seen the picture in some illustrated +volume, when a baby, or my mother may have dreamed it before I was born. +</P> + +<P> +As a child I was not handsome. When I consulted the triangular bit of +looking-glass which I always carried with me, it showed a pale, sandy, +and freckled face, shaded by locks like the color of seaweed when the +sun strikes it in deep water. My eyes were said to be indistinctive; +they were a faint, ashen gray; but above them rose—my only beauty—a +high, massive, domelike forehead, with polished temples, like +door-knobs of the purest porcelain. +</P> + +<P> +Our family was a family of governesses. My mother had been one, and my +sisters had the same occupation. Consequently, when, at the age of +thirteen, my eldest sister handed me the advertisement of Mr. +Rawjester, clipped from that day's "Times," I accepted it as my +destiny. Nevertheless, a mysterious presentiment of an indefinite +future haunted me in my dreams that night, as I lay upon my little +snow-white bed. The next morning, with two bandboxes tied up in silk +handkerchiefs, and a hair trunk, I turned my back upon Minerva Cottage +forever. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER II. +</H3> + +<P> +Blunderbore Hall, the seat of James Rawjester, Esq., was encompassed by +dark pines and funereal hemlocks on all sides. The wind sang weirdly +in the turrets and moaned through the long-drawn avenues of the park. +As I approached the house I saw several mysterious figures flit before +the windows, and a yell of demoniac laughter answered my summons at the +bell. While I strove to repress my gloomy forebodings, the +housekeeper, a timid, scared-looking old woman, showed me into the +library. +</P> + +<P> +I entered, overcome with conflicting emotions. I was dressed in a +narrow gown of dark serge, trimmed with black bugles. A thick green +shawl was pinned across my breast. My hands were encased with black +half-mittens worked with steel beads; on my feet were large pattens, +originally the property of my deceased grandmother. I carried a blue +cotton umbrella. As I passed before a mirror, I could not help +glancing at it, nor could I disguise from myself the fact that I was +not handsome. +</P> + +<P> +Drawing a chair into a recess, I sat down with folded hands, calmly +awaiting the arrival of my master. Once or twice a fearful yell rang +through the house, or the rattling of chains, and curses uttered in a +deep, manly voice, broke upon the oppressive stillness. I began to +feel my soul rising with the emergency of the moment. +</P> + +<P> +"You look alarmed, miss. You don't hear anything, my dear, do you?" +asked the housekeeper nervously. +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing whatever," I remarked calmly, as a terrific scream, followed +by the dragging of chairs and tables in the room above, drowned for a +moment my reply. "It is the silence, on the contrary, which has made +me foolishly nervous." +</P> + +<P> +The housekeeper looked at me approvingly, and instantly made some tea +for me. +</P> + +<P> +I drank seven cups; as I was beginning the eighth, I heard a crash, and +the next moment a man leaped into the room through the broken window. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER III. +</H3> + +<P> +The crash startled me from my self-control. The housekeeper bent +toward me and whispered:— +</P> + +<P> +"Don't be excited. It's Mr. Rawjester,—he prefers to come in +sometimes in this way. It's his playfulness, ha! ha! ha!" +</P> + +<P> +"I perceive," I said calmly. "It's the unfettered impulse of a lofty +soul breaking the tyrannizing bonds of custom." And I turned toward +him. +</P> + +<P> +He had never once looked at me. He stood with his back to the fire, +which set off the herculean breadth of his shoulders. His face was +dark and expressive; his under jaw squarely formed, and remarkably +heavy. I was struck with his remarkable likeness to a Gorilla. +</P> + +<P> +As he absently tied the poker into hard knots with his nervous fingers, +I watched him with some interest. Suddenly he turned toward me:— +</P> + +<P> +"Do you think I'm handsome, young woman?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not classically beautiful," I returned calmly; "but you have, if I may +so express myself, an abstract manliness,—a sincere and wholesome +barbarity which, involving as it does the naturalness—" But I stopped, +for he yawned at that moment,—an action which singularly developed the +immense breadth of his lower jaw,—and I saw he had forgotten me. +Presently he turned to the housekeeper:— +</P> + +<P> +"Leave us." +</P> + +<P> +The old woman withdrew with a courtesy. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Rawjester deliberately turned his back upon me and remained silent +for twenty minutes. I drew my shawl the more closely around my +shoulders and closed my eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"You are the governess?" at length he said. +</P> + +<P> +"I am, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"A creature who teaches geography, arithmetic, and the use of the +globes—ha!—a wretched remnant of femininity,—a skimp pattern of +girlhood with a premature flavor of tea-leaves and morality. Ugh!" +</P> + +<P> +I bowed my head silently. +</P> + +<P> +"Listen to me, girl!" he said sternly; "this child you have come to +teach—my ward—is not legitimate. She is the offspring of my +mistress,—a common harlot. Ah! Miss Mix, what do you think of me +now?" +</P> + +<P> +"I admire," I replied calmly, "your sincerity. A mawkish regard for +delicacy might have kept this disclosure to yourself. I only recognize +in your frankness that perfect community of thought and sentiment which +should exist between original natures." +</P> + +<P> +I looked up; he had already forgotten my presence, and was engaged in +pulling off his boots and coat. This done, he sank down in an +arm-chair before the fire, and ran the poker wearily through his hair. +I could not help pitying him. +</P> + +<P> +The wind howled dismally without, and the rain beat furiously against +the windows. I crept toward him and seated myself on a low stool +beside his chair. +</P> + +<P> +Presently he turned, without seeing me, and placed his foot absently in +my lap. I affected not to notice it. But he started and looked down. +</P> + +<P> +"You here yet—Carrothead? Ah, I forgot. Do you speak French?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oui, Monsieur." +</P> + +<P> +"Taisez-vous!" he said sharply, with singular purity of accent. I +complied. The wind moaned fearfully in the chimney, and the light +burned dimly. I shuddered in spite of myself. "Ah, you tremble, girl!" +</P> + +<P> +"It is a fearful night." +</P> + +<P> +"Fearful! Call you this fearful, ha! ha! ha! Look! you wretched +little atom, look!" and he dashed forward, and, leaping out of the +window, stood like a statue in the pelting storm, with folded arms. He +did not stay long, but in a few minutes returned by way of the hall +chimney. I saw from the way that he wiped his feet on my dress that he +had again forgotten my presence. +</P> + +<P> +"You are a governess. What can you teach?" he asked, suddenly and +fiercely thrusting his face in mine. +</P> + +<P> +"Manners!" I replied, calmly. +</P> + +<P> +"Ha! teach ME!" +</P> + +<P> +"You mistake yourself," I said, adjusting my mittens. "Your manners +require not the artificial restraint of society. You are radically +polite; this impetuosity and ferociousness is simply the sincerity +which is the basis of a proper deportment. Your instincts are moral; +your better nature, I see, is religious. As St. Paul justly +remarks—see chap. 6, 8, 9, and 10—" +</P> + +<P> +He seized a heavy candlestick, and threw it at me. I dodged it +submissively but firmly. +</P> + +<P> +"Excuse me," he remarked, as his under jaw slowly relaxed. "Excuse me, +Miss Mix—but I can't stand St. Paul! Enough—you are engaged." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IV. +</H3> + +<P> +I followed the housekeeper as she led the way timidly to my room. As we +passed into a dark hall in the wing, I noticed that it was closed by an +iron gate with a grating. Three of the doors on the corridor were +likewise grated. A strange noise, as of shuffling feet and the howling +of infuriated animals, rang through the hall. Bidding the housekeeper +good night, and taking the candle, I entered my bedchamber. +</P> + +<P> +I took off my dress, and, putting on a yellow flannel nightgown, which +I could not help feeling did not agree with my complexion, I composed +myself to rest by reading Blair's Rhetoric and Paley's Moral +Philosophy. I had just put out the light, when I heard voices in the +corridor. I listened attentively. I recognized Mr. Rawjester's stern +tones. +</P> + +<P> +"Have you fed No. 1?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir," said a gruff voice, apparently belonging to a domestic. +</P> + +<P> +"How's No. 2?" +</P> + +<P> +"She's a little off her feed, just now, but will pick up in a day or +two!" +</P> + +<P> +"And No. 3?" +</P> + +<P> +"Perfectly furious, sir. Her tantrums are ungovernable." +</P> + +<P> +"Hush!" +</P> + +<P> +The voices died away, and I sank into a fitful slumber. +</P> + +<P> +I dreamed that I was wandering through a tropical forest. Suddenly I +saw the figure of a gorilla approaching me. As it neared me, I +recognized the features of Mr. Rawjester. He held his hand to his side +as if in pain. I saw that he had been wounded. He recognized me and +called me by name, but at the same moment the vision changed to an +Ashantee village, where, around the fire, a group of negroes were +dancing and participating in some wild Obi festival. I awoke with the +strain still ringing in my ears. +</P> + +<P> +"Hokee-pokee wokee fum!" +</P> + +<P> +Good Heavens! could I be dreaming? I heard the voice distinctly on the +floor below, and smelt something burning. I arose, with an indistinct +presentiment of evil, and hastily putting some cotton in my ears and +tying a towel about my head, I wrapped myself in a shawl and rushed +down stairs. The door of Mr. Rawjester's room was open. I entered. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Rawjester lay apparently in a deep slumber, from which even the +clouds of smoke that came from the burning curtains of his bed could +not rouse him. Around the room a large and powerful negress, scantily +attired, with her head adorned with feathers, was dancing wildly, +accompanying herself with bone castanets. It looked like some terrible +fetich. +</P> + +<P> +I did not lose my calmness. After firmly emptying the pitcher, basin, +and slop-jar on the burning bed, I proceeded cautiously to the garden, +and, returning with the garden-engine, I directed a small stream at Mr. +Rawjester. +</P> + +<P> +At my entrance the gigantic negress fled. Mr. Rawjester yawned and +woke. I explained to him, as he rose dripping from the bed, the reason +of my presence. He did not seem to be excited, alarmed, or +discomposed. He gazed at me curiously. +</P> + +<P> +"So you risked your life to save mine, eh? you canary-colored teacher +of infants." +</P> + +<P> +I blushed modestly, and drew my shawl tightly over my yellow flannel +nightgown. +</P> + +<P> +"You love me, Mary Jane,—don't deny it! This trembling shows it!" He +drew me closely toward him, and said, with his deep voice tenderly +modulated:— +</P> + +<P> +"How's her pooty tootens,—did she get her 'ittle tootens wet,—bess +her?" +</P> + +<P> +I understood his allusion to my feet. I glanced down and saw that in +my hurry I had put on a pair of his old india-rubbers. My feet were +not small or pretty, and the addition did not add to their beauty. +</P> + +<P> +"Let me go, sir," I remarked quietly. "This is entirely improper; it +sets a bad example for your child." And I firmly but gently extricated +myself from his grasp. I approached the door. He seemed for a moment +buried in deep thought. +</P> + +<P> +"You say this was a negress?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"Humph, No. 1, I suppose?" +</P> + +<P> +"Who is Number One, sir?" +</P> + +<P> +"My FIRST," he remarked, with a significant and sarcastic smile. Then, +relapsing into his old manner, he threw his boots at my head, and bade +me begone. I withdrew calmly. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER V. +</H3> + +<P> +My pupil was a bright little girl, who spoke French with a perfect +accent. Her mother had been a French ballet-dancer, which probably +accounted for it. Although she was only six years old, it was easy to +perceive that she had been several times in love. She once said to +me:— +</P> + +<P> +"Miss Mix, did you ever have the grande passion? Did you ever feel a +fluttering here?" and she placed her hand upon her small chest, and +sighed quaintly, "a kind of distaste for bonbons and caromels, when the +world seemed as tasteless and hollow as a broken cordial drop." +</P> + +<P> +"Then you have felt it, Nina?" I said quietly. "O dear, yes. There was +Buttons,—that was our page, you know,—I loved him dearly, but papa +sent him away. Then there was Dick, the groom, but he laughed at me, +and I suffered misery!" and she struck a tragic French attitude. +"There is to be company here to-morrow," she added, rattling on with +childish naivete, "and papa's sweetheart—Blanche Marabout—is to be +here. You know they say she is to be my mamma." +</P> + +<P> +What thrill was this shot through me? But I rose calmly, and, +administering a slight correction to the child, left the apartment. +</P> + +<P> +Blunderbore House, for the next week, was the scene of gayety and +merriment. That portion of the mansion closed with a grating was +walled up, and the midnight shrieks no longer troubled me. +</P> + +<P> +But I felt more keenly the degradation of my situation. I was obliged +to help Lady Blanche at her toilet and help her to look beautiful. For +what? To captivate him? O—no, no,—but why this sudden thrill and +faintness? Did he really love her? I had seen him pinch and swear at +her. But I reflected that he had thrown a candlestick at my head, and +my foolish heart was reassured. +</P> + +<P> +It was a night of festivity, when a sudden message obliged Mr. +Rawjester to leave his guests for a few hours. "Make yourselves merry, +idiots," he added, under his breath, as he passed me. The door closed +and he was gone. +</P> + +<P> +An half-hour passed. In the midst of the dancing a shriek was heard, +and out of the swaying crowd of fainting women and excited men a wild +figure strode into the room. One glance showed it to be a highwayman, +heavily armed, holding a pistol in each hand. +</P> + +<P> +"Let no one pass out of this room!" he said, in a voice of thunder. +"The house is surrounded and you cannot escape. The first one who +crosses yonder threshold will be shot like a dog. Gentlemen, I'll +trouble you to approach in single file, and hand me your purses and +watches." +</P> + +<P> +Finding resistance useless, the order was ungraciously obeyed. +</P> + +<P> +"Now, ladies, please to pass up your jewelry and trinkets." +</P> + +<P> +This order was still more ungraciously complied with. As Blanche +handed to the bandit captain her bracelet, she endeavored to conceal a +diamond necklace, the gift of Mr. Rawjester, in her bosom. But, with a +demoniac grin, the powerful brute tore it from its concealment, and, +administering a hearty box on the ear of the young girl, flung her +aside. +</P> + +<P> +It was now my turn. With a beating heart I made my way to the robber +chieftain, and sank at his feet. "O sir, I am nothing but a poor +governess, pray let me go." +</P> + +<P> +"O ho! A governess? Give me your last month's wages, then. Give me +what you have stolen from your master!" and he laughed fiendishly. +</P> + +<P> +I gazed at him quietly, and said, in a low voice: "I have stolen +nothing from you, Mr. Rawjester!" +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, discovered! Hush! listen, girl!" he hissed, in a fiercer whisper, +"utter a syllable to frustrate my plans and you die; aid me, and—" +But he was gone. +</P> + +<P> +In a few moments the party, with the exception of myself, were gagged +and locked in the cellar. The next moment torches were applied to the +rich hangings, and the house was in flames. I felt a strong hand seize +me, and bear me out in the open air and place me upon the hillside, +where I could overlook the burning mansion. It was Mr. Rawjester. +</P> + +<P> +"Burn!" he said, as he shook his fist at the flames. Then sinking on +his knees before me, he said hurriedly:— +</P> + +<P> +"Mary Jane, I love you; the obstacles to our union are or will be soon +removed. In yonder mansion were confined my three crazy wives. One of +them, as you know, attempted to kill me! Ha! this is vengeance! But +will you be mine?" +</P> + +<P> +I fell, without a word, upon his neck. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="heavystone"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +GUY HEAVYSTONE; +</H2> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +OR, +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +"ENTIRE." +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +A MUSCULAR NOVEL. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BY THE AUTHOR or "SWORD AND GUN." +</H3> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER I. +</H3> + +<P CLASS="intro"> +"Nerei repandirostrum incurvicervicum pecus." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +A dingy, swashy, splashy afternoon in October; a school-yard filled +with a mob of riotous boys. A lot of us standing outside. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly came a dull, crashing sound from the school-room. At the +ominous interruption I shuddered involuntarily, and called to +Smithsye:— +</P> + +<P> +"What's up, Smithums?" +</P> + +<P> +"Guy's cleaning out the fourth form," he replied. +</P> + +<P> +At the same moment George de Coverly passed me, holding his nose, from +whence the bright Norman blood streamed redly. To him the plebeian +Smithsye laughingly:— +</P> + +<P> +"Cully! how's his nibs?" +</P> + +<P> +I pushed the door of the school-room open. There are some spectacles +which a man never forgets. The burning of Troy probably seemed a +large-sized conflagration to the pious Aeneas, and made an impression +on him which he carried away with the feeble Anchises. +</P> + +<P> +In the centre of the room, lightly brandishing the piston-rod of a +steam-engine, stood Guy Heavystone alone. I say alone, for the pile of +small boys on the floor in the corner could hardly be called company. +</P> + +<P> +I will try and sketch him for the reader. Guy Heavystone was then only +fifteen. His broad, deep chest, his sinewy and quivering flank, his +straight pastern, showed him to be a thoroughbred. Perhaps he was a +trifle heavy in the fetlock, but he held his head haughtily erect. His +eyes were glittering but pitiless. There was a sternness about the +lower part of his face,—the old Heavystone look,—a sternness, +heightened, perhaps, by the snaffle-bit which, in one of his strange +freaks, he wore in his mouth to curb his occasional ferocity. His +dress was well adapted to his square-set and herculean frame. A +striped knit undershirt, close-fitting striped tights, and a few +spangles set off his figure; a neat Glengarry cap adorned his head. On +it was displayed the Heavystone crest, a cock regardant on a dunghill +or, and the motto, "Devil a better!" +</P> + +<P> +I thought of Horatius on the bridge, of Hector before the walls. I +always make it a point to think of something classical at such times. +</P> + +<P> +He saw me, and his sternness partly relaxed. Something like a smile +struggled through his grim lineaments. It was like looking on the +Jungfrau after having seen Mont Blanc,—a trifle, only a trifle less +sublime and awful. Resting his hand lightly on the shoulder of the +head-master, who shuddered and collapsed under his touch, he strode +toward me. +</P> + +<P> +His walk was peculiar. You could not call it a stride. It was like +the "crest-tossing Bellerophon,"—a kind of prancing gait. Guy +Heavystone pranced toward me. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER II. +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "Lord Lovel he stood at the garden gate,<BR> + A-combing his milk-white steed."<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +It was the winter of 186- when I next met Guy Heavystone. He had left +the University and had entered the 76th "Heavies." "I have exchanged +the gown for the sword, you see," he said, grasping my hand, and +fracturing the bones of my little finger, as he shook it. +</P> + +<P> +I gazed at him with unmixed admiration. He was squarer, sterner, and +in every way smarter and more remarkable than ever. I began to feel +toward this man as Phalaster felt towards Phyrgino, as somebody must +have felt toward Archididasculus, as Boswell felt toward Johnson. +</P> + +<P> +"Come into my den," he said, and lifting me gently by the seat of my +pantaloons he carried me up stairs and deposited me, before I could +apologize, on the sofa. I looked around the room. It was a bachelor's +apartment, characteristically furnished in the taste of the proprietor. +A few claymores and battle-axes were ranged against the wall, and a +culverin, captured by Sir Ralph Heavystone, occupied the corner, the +other end of the room being taken up by a light battery. Foils, +boxing-gloves, saddles, and fishing-poles lay around carelessly. A +small pile of billets-doux lay upon a silver salver. The man was not +an anchorite, nor yet a Sir Galahad. +</P> + +<P> +I never could tell what Guy thought of women. "Poor little beasts," he +would often say when the conversation turned on any of his fresh +conquests. Then, passing his hand over his marble brow, the old look +of stern fixedness of purpose and unflinching severity would straighten +the lines of his mouth, and he would mutter, half to himself, "S'death!" +</P> + +<P> +"Come with me to Heavystone Grange. The Exmoor Hounds throw off +to-morrow. I'll give you a mount," he said, as he amused himself by +rolling up a silver candlestick between his fingers. "You shall have +Cleopatra. But stay," he added, thoughtfully; "now I remember, I +ordered Cleopatra to be shot this morning." +</P> + +<P> +"And why?" I queried. +</P> + +<P> +"She threw her rider yesterday and fell on him—" +</P> + +<P> +"And killed him?" +</P> + +<P> +"No. That's the reason why I have ordered her to be shot. I keep no +animals that are not dangerous—I should add—DEADLY!" He hissed the +last sentence between his teeth, and a gloomy frown descended over his +calm brow. +</P> + +<P> +I affected to turn over the tradesman's bills that lay on the table, +for, like all of the Heavystone race, Guy seldom paid cash, and said:— +</P> + +<P> +"You remind me of the time when Leonidas—" +</P> + +<P> +"O, bother Leonidas and your classical allusions. Come!" +</P> + +<P> +We descended to dinner. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER III. +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "He carries weight, he rides a race,<BR> + 'Tis for a thousand pound."<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +"There is Flora Billingsgate, the greatest coquette and hardest rider +in the country," said my companion, Ralph Mortmain, as we stood upon +Dingleby Common before the meet. +</P> + +<P> +I looked up and beheld Guy Heavystone bending haughtily over the +saddle, as he addressed a beautiful brunette. She was indeed a +splendidly groomed and high-spirited woman. We were near enough to +overhear the following conversation, which any high-toned reader will +recognize as the common and natural expression of the higher classes. +</P> + +<P> +"When Diana takes the field the chase is not wholly confined to objects +ferae naturae," said Guy, darting a significant glance at his +companion. Flora did not shrink either from the glance or the meaning +implied in the sarcasm. +</P> + +<P> +"If I were looking for an Endymion, now—" she said archly, as she +playfully cantered over a few hounds and leaped a five-barred gate. +</P> + +<P> +Guy whispered a few words, inaudible to the rest of the party, and, +curvetting slightly, cleverly cleared two of the huntsmen in a flying +leap, galloped up the front steps of the mansion, and dashing at full +speed through the hall leaped through the drawing-room window and +rejoined me, languidly, on the lawn. +</P> + +<P> +"Be careful of Flora Billingsgate," he said to me, in low stern tones, +while his pitiless eye shot a baleful fire. "Gardez vous!" +</P> + +<P> +"Gnothi seauton," I replied calmly, not wishing to appear to be behind +him in perception or verbal felicity. +</P> + +<P> +Guy started off in high spirits. He was well carried. He and the +first whip, a ten-stone man, were head and head at the last fence, +while the hounds were rolling over their fox a hundred yards farther in +the open. +</P> + +<P> +But an unexpected circumstance occurred. Coming back, his chestnut +mare refused a ten-foot wall. She reared and fell backward. Again he +led her up to it lightly; again she refused, falling heavily from the +coping. Guy started to his feet. The old pitiless fire shone in his +eyes; the old stern look settled around his mouth. Seizing the mare by +the tail and mane he threw her over the wall. She landed twenty feet on +the other side, erect and trembling. Lightly leaping the same obstacle +himself, he remounted her. She did not refuse the wall the next time. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IV. +</H3> + +<P CLASS="poem"> +"He holds him by his glittering eye." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Guy was in the North of Ireland, cock-shooting. So Ralph Mortmain told +me, and also that the match between Mary Brandagee and Guy had been +broken off by Flora Billingsgate. "I don't like those Billingsgates," +said Ralph, "they're a bad stock. Her father, Smithfield de +Billingsgate, had an unpleasant way of turning up the knave from the +bottom of the pack. But nous verrons; let us go and see Guy." +</P> + +<P> +The next morning we started for Fin-ma-Coul's Crossing. When I reached +the shooting-box, where Guy was entertaining a select company of +friends, Flora Billingsgate greeted me with a saucy smile. +</P> + +<P> +Guy was even squarer and sterner than ever. His gusts of passion were +more frequent, and it was with difficulty that he could keep an +able-bodied servant in his family. His present retainers were more or +less maimed from exposure to the fury of their master. There was a +strange cynicism, a cutting sarcasm in his address, piercing through +his polished manner. I thought of Timon, etc., etc. +</P> + +<P> +One evening, we were sitting over our Chambertin, after a hard day's +work, and Guy was listlessly turning over some letters, when suddenly +he uttered a cry. Did you ever hear the trumpeting of a wounded +elephant? It was like that. +</P> + +<P> +I looked at him with consternation. He was glancing at a letter which +he held at arm's length, and snorting, as it were, at it as he gazed. +The lower part of his face was stern, but not as rigid as usual. He +was slowly grinding between his teeth the fragments of the glass he had +just been drinking from. Suddenly he seized one of his servants, and, +forcing the wretch upon his knees, exclaimed, with the roar of a +tiger:— +</P> + +<P> +"Dog! why was this kept from me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, please, sir, Miss Flora said as how it was a reconciliation from +Miss Brandagee, and it was to be kept from you where you would not be +likely to see it,—and—and—" +</P> + +<P> +"Speak, dog! and you—" +</P> + +<P> +"I put it among your bills, sir!" +</P> + +<P> +With a groan, like distant thunder, Guy fell swooning to the floor. +</P> + +<P> +He soon recovered, for the next moment a servant came rushing into the +room with the information that a number of the ingenuous peasantry of +the neighborhood were about to indulge that evening in the national +pastime of burning a farm-house and shooting a landlord. Guy smiled a +fearful smile, without, however, altering his stern and pitiless +expression. +</P> + +<P> +"Let them come," he said calmly; "I feel like entertaining company." +</P> + +<P> +We barricaded the doors and windows, and then chose our arms from the +armory. Guy's choice was a singular one: it was a landing net with a +long handle, and a sharp cavalry sabre. +</P> + +<P> +We were not destined to remain long in ignorance of its use. A howl +was heard from without, and a party of fifty or sixty armed men +precipitated themselves against the door. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly the window opened. With the rapidity of lightning, Guy +Heavystone cast the net over the head of the ringleader, ejaculated +"Habet!" and with a back stroke of his cavalry sabre severed the member +from its trunk, and, drawing the net back again, cast the gory head +upon the floor, saying quietly:— +</P> + +<P> +"One." +</P> + +<P> +Again the net was cast, the steel flashed, the net was withdrawn, and +an ominous "Two!" accompanied the head as it rolled on the floor. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you remember what Pliny says of the gladiator?" said Guy, calmly +wiping his sabre. "How graphic is that passage commencing 'Inter nos, +etc.'" The sport continued until the heads of twenty desperadoes had +been gathered in. The rest seemed inclined to disperse. Guy +incautiously showed himself at the door; a ringing shot was heard, and +he staggered back, pierced through the heart. Grasping the door-post in +the last unconscious throes of his mighty frame, the whole side of the +house yielded to that earthquake tremor, and we had barely time to +escape before the whole building fell in ruins. I thought of Samson, +the Giant Judge, etc., etc.; but all was over. +</P> + +<P> +Guy Heavystone had died as he had lived,—HARD. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="breezy"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +MR. MIDSHIPMAN BREEZY. +</H2> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +A NAVAL OFFICER. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BY CAPTAIN M—RRY—T, R. N. +</H3> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER I. +</H3> + +<P> +My father was a north-country surgeon. He had retired, a widower, from +her Majesty's navy many years before, and had a small practice in his +native village. When I was seven years old he employed me to carry +medicines to his patients. Being of a lively disposition, I sometimes +amused myself; during my daily rounds, by mixing the contents of the +different phials. Although I had no reason to doubt that the general +result of this practice was beneficial, yet, as the death of a +consumptive curate followed the addition of a strong mercurial lotion +to his expectorant, my father concluded to withdraw me from the +profession and send me to school. +</P> + +<P> +Grubbins, the schoolmaster, was a tyrant, and it was not long before my +impetuous and self-willed nature rebelled against his authority. I +soon began to form plans of revenge. In this I was assisted by Tom +Snaffle,—a schoolfellow. One day Tom suggested:— +</P> + +<P> +"Suppose we blow him up. I've got two pounds of powder!" +</P> + +<P> +"No, that's too noisy," I replied. +</P> + +<P> +Tom was silent for a minute, and again spoke:— +</P> + +<P> +"You remember how you flattened out the curate, Pills! Couldn't you +give Grubbins something—something to make him leathery sick—eh?" +</P> + +<P> +A flash of inspiration crossed my mind. I went to the shop of the +village apothecary. He knew me; I had often purchased vitriol, which I +poured into Grubbins's inkstand to corrode his pens and burn up his +coat-tail, on which he was in the habit of wiping them. I boldly asked +for an ounce of chloroform. The young apothecary winked and handed me +the bottle. +</P> + +<P> +It was Grubbins's custom to throw his handkerchief over his head, +recline in his chair and take a short nap during recess. Watching my +opportunity, as he dozed, I managed to slip his handkerchief from his +face and substitute my own, moistened with chloroform. In a few +minutes he was insensible. Tom and I then quickly shaved his head, +beard, and eyebrows, blackened his face with a mixture of vitriol and +burnt cork, and fled. There was a row and scandal the next day. My +father always excused me by asserting that Grubbins had got drunk,—but +somehow found it convenient to procure me an appointment in her +Majesty's navy at an early day. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER II. +</H3> + +<P> +An official letter, with the Admiralty seal, informed me that I was +expected to join H. M. ship Belcher, Captain Boltrope, at Portsmouth, +without delay. In a few days I presented myself to a tall, +stern-visaged man, who was slowly pacing the leeward side of the +quarter-deck. As I touched my hat he eyed me sternly:— +</P> + +<P> +"So ho! Another young suckling. The service is going to the devil. +Nothing but babes in the cockpit and grannies in the board. Boatswain's +mate, pass the word for Mr. Cheek!" +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Cheek, the steward, appeared and touched his hat. "Introduce Mr. +Breezy to the young gentlemen. Stop! Where's Mr. Swizzle?" +</P> + +<P> +"At the masthead, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"Where's Mr. Lankey?" +</P> + +<P> +"At the masthead, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Briggs?" +</P> + +<P> +"Masthead, too, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"And the rest of the young gentlemen?" roared the enraged officer. +</P> + +<P> +"All masthead, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah!" said Captain Boltrope, as he smiled grimly, "under the +circumstances, Mr. Breezy, you had better go to the masthead too." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER III. +</H3> + +<P> +At the masthead I made the acquaintance of two youngsters of about my +own age, one of whom informed me that he had been there three hundred +and thirty-two days out of the year. +</P> + +<P> +"In rough weather, when the old cock is out of sorts, you know, we +never come down," added a young gentleman of nine years, with a dirk +nearly as long as himself, who had been introduced to me as Mr. Briggs. +"By the way, Pills," he continued, "how did you come to omit giving the +captain a naval salute?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, I touched my hat," I said, innocently. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, but that isn't enough, you know. That will do very well at other +times. He expects the naval salute when you first come on +board—greeny!" +</P> + +<P> +I began to feel alarmed, and begged him to explain. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, you see, after touching your hat, you should have touched him +lightly with your forefinger in his waistcoat, so, and asked, 'How's +his nibs?'—you see?" +</P> + +<P> +"How's his nibs?" I repeated. +</P> + +<P> +"Exactly. He would have drawn back a little, and then you should have +repeated the salute remarking, 'How's his royal nibs?' asking +cautiously after his wife and family, and requesting to be introduced +to the gunner's daughter." +</P> + +<P> +"The gunner's daughter?" +</P> + +<P> +"The same; you know she takes care of us young gentlemen; now don't +forget, Pillsy!" +</P> + +<P> +When we were called down to the deck I thought it a good chance to +profit by this instruction. I approached Captain Boltrope and repeated +the salute without conscientiously omitting a single detail. He +remained for a moment, livid and speechless. At length he gasped out:— +</P> + +<P> +"Boatswain's mate?" +</P> + +<P> +"If you please, sir," I asked, tremulously, "I should like to be +introduced to the gunner's daughter!" +</P> + +<P> +"O, very good, sir!" screamed Captain Boltrope, rubbing his hands and +absolutely capering about the deck with rage. "O d—n you! Of course +you shall! O ho! the gunner's daughter! O, h—ll! this is too much! +Boatswain's mate!" Before I well knew where I was, I was seized, borne +to an eight-pounder, tied upon it and flogged! +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IV. +</H3> + +<P> +As we sat together in the cockpit, picking the weevils out of our +biscuit, Briggs consoled me for my late mishap, adding that the "naval +salute," as a custom, seemed just then to be honored more in the BREACH +than the observance. I joined in the hilarity occasioned by the +witticism, and in a few moments we were all friends. Presently Swizzle +turned to me:— +</P> + +<P> +"We have been just planning how to confiscate a keg of claret, which +Nips, the purser, keeps under his bunk. The old nipcheese lies there +drunk half the day, and there's no getting at it." +</P> + +<P> +"Let's get beneath the state-room and bore through the deck, and so tap +it," said Lankey. +</P> + +<P> +The proposition was received with a shout of applause. A long +half-inch auger and bit was procured from Chips, the carpenter's mate, +and Swizzle, after a careful examination of the timbers beneath the +ward-room, commenced operations. The auger at last disappeared, when +suddenly there was a slight disturbance on the deck above. Swizzle +withdrew the auger hurriedly; from its point a few bright red drops +trickled. +</P> + +<P> +"Huzza! send her up again!" cried Lankey. +</P> + +<P> +The auger was again applied. This time a shriek was heard from the +purser's cabin. Instantly the light was doused, and the party +retreated hurriedly to the cockpit. A sound of snoring was heard as +the sentry stuck his head into the door. "All right, sir," he replied +in answer to the voice of the officer of the deck. +</P> + +<P> +The next morning we heard that Nips was in the surgeon's hands, with a +bad wound in the fleshy part of his leg, and that the auger had NOT +struck claret. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER V. +</H3> + +<P> +"Now, Pills, you'll have a chance to smell powder," said Briggs as he +entered the cockpit and buckled around his waist an enormous cutlass. +"We have just sighted a French ship." +</P> + +<P> +We went on deck. Captain Boltrope grinned as we touched our hats. He +hated the purser. "Come, young gentlemen, if you're boring for french +claret, yonder's a good quality. Mind your con, sir," he added, +turning to the quartermaster, who was grinning. +</P> + +<P> +The ship was already cleared for action. The men, in their eagerness, +had started the coffee from the tubs and filled them with shot. +Presently the Frenchman yawed, and a shot from a long thirty-two came +skipping over the water. It killed the quartermaster and took off both +of Lankey's legs. "Tell the purser our account is squared," said the +dying boy, with a feeble smile. +</P> + +<P> +The fight raged fiercely for two hours. I remember killing the French +Admiral, as we boarded, but on looking around for Briggs, after the +smoke had cleared away, I was intensely amused at witnessing the +following novel sight:— +</P> + +<P> +Briggs had pinned the French captain against the mast with his cutlass, +and was now engaged, with all the hilarity of youth, in pulling the +captain's coat-tails between his legs, in imitation of a dancing-jack. +As the Frenchman lifted his legs and arms, at each jerk of Briggs's, I +could not help participating in the general mirth. +</P> + +<P> +"You young devil, what are you doing?" said a stifled voice behind me. +I looked up and beheld Captain Boltrope, endeavoring to calm his stern +features, but the twitching around his mouth betrayed his intense +enjoyment of the scene. "Go to the masthead—up with you, sir!" he +repeated sternly to Briggs. +</P> + +<P> +"Very good, sir," said the boy, coolly preparing to mount the shrouds. +"Good by, Johnny Crapaud. Humph!" he added, in a tone intended for my +ear, "a pretty way to treat a hero. The service is going to the devil!" +</P> + +<P> +I thought so too. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VI. +</H3> + +<P> +We were ordered to the West Indies. Although Captain Boltrope's manner +toward me was still severe, and even harsh, I understood that my name +had been favorably mentioned in the despatches. +</P> + +<P> +Reader, were you ever at Jamaica? If so, you remember the negresses, +the oranges, Port Royal Tom—the yellow fever. After being two weeks +at the station, I was taken sick of the fever. In a month I was +delirious. During my paroxysms, I had a wild distempered dream of a +stern face bending anxiously over my pillow, a rough hand smoothing my +hair, and a kind voice saying:— +</P> + +<P> +"Bess his 'ittle heart! Did he have the naughty fever?" This face +seemed again changed to the well-known stern features of Captain +Boltrope. +</P> + +<P> +When I was convalescent, a packet edged in black was put in my hand. +It contained the news of my father's death, and a sealed letter which +he had requested to be given to me on his decease. I opened it +tremblingly. It read thus:— +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"My dear Boy:—I regret to inform you that in all probability you are +not my son. Your mother, I am grieved to say, was a highly improper +person. Who your father may be, I really cannot say, but perhaps the +Honorable Henry Boltrope, Captain R. N., may be able to inform you. +Circumstances over which I have no control have deferred this important +disclosure. +<BR><BR> +"YOUR STRICKEN PARENT." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +And so Captain Boltrope was my father. Heavens! Was it a dream? I +recalled his stern manner, his observant eye, his ill-concealed +uneasiness when in my presence. I longed to embrace him. Staggering to +my feet, I rushed in my scanty apparel to the deck, where Captain +Boltrope was just then engaged in receiving the Governor's wife and +daughter. The ladies shrieked; the youngest, a beautiful girl, blushed +deeply. Heeding them not, I sank at his feet, and, embracing them, +cried:— +</P> + +<P> +"My father!" +</P> + +<P> +"Chuck him overboard!" roared Captain Boltrope. +</P> + +<P> +"Stay," pleaded the soft voice of Clara Maitland, the Governor's +daughter. +</P> + +<P> +"Shave his head! he's a wretched lunatic!" continued Captain Boltrope, +while his voice trembled with excitement. +</P> + +<P> +"No, let me nurse and take care of him," said the lovely girl, blushing +as she spoke. "Mamma, can't we take him home?" +</P> + +<P> +The daughter's pleading was not without effect. In the mean time I had +fainted. When I recovered my senses I found myself in Governor +Maitland's mansion. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VII. +</H3> + +<P> +The reader will guess what followed. I fell deeply in love with Clara +Maitland, to whom I confided the secret of my birth. The generous girl +asserted that she had detected the superiority of my manner at once. +We plighted our troth, and resolved to wait upon events. +</P> + +<P> +Briggs called to see me a few days afterward. He said that the purser +had insulted the whole cockpit, and all the midshipmen had called him +out. But he added thoughtfully: "I don't see how we can arrange the +duel. You see there are six of us to fight him." +</P> + +<P> +"Very easily," I replied. "Let your fellows all stand in a row, and +take his fire; that, you see, gives him six chances to one, and he must +be a bad shot if he can't hit one of you; while, on the other hand, you +see, he gets a volley from you six, and one of you'll be certain to +fetch him." +</P> + +<P> +"Exactly"; and away Briggs went, but soon returned to say that the +purser had declined,—"like a d—d coward," he added. +</P> + +<P> +But the news of the sudden and serious illness of Captain Boltrope put +off the duel. I hastened to his bedside, but too late,—an hour +previous he had given up the ghost. +</P> + +<P> +I resolved to return to England. I made known the secret of my birth, +and exhibited my adopted father's letter to Lady Maitland, who at once +suggested my marriage with her daughter, before I returned to claim the +property. We were married, and took our departure next day. +</P> + +<P> +I made no delay in posting at once, in company with my wife and my +friend Briggs, to my native village. Judge of my horror and surprise +when my late adopted father came out of his shop to welcome me. +</P> + +<P> +"Then you are not dead!" I gasped. +</P> + +<P> +"No, my dear boy." +</P> + +<P> +"And this letter?" +</P> + +<P> +My father—as I must still call him—glanced on the paper, and +pronounced it a forgery. Briggs roared with laughter. I turned to him +and demanded an explanation. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, don't you see, Greeny, it's all a joke,—a midshipman's joke!" +</P> + +<P> +"But—" I asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't be a fool. You've got a good wife,—be satisfied." +</P> + +<P> +I turned to Clara, and was satisfied. Although Mrs. Maitland never +forgave me, the jolly old Governor laughed heartily over the joke, and +so well used his influence that I soon became, dear reader, Admiral +Breezy, K. C. B. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="jenkins"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +JOHN JENKINS; +</H2> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +OR, +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE SMOKER REFORMED. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BY T. S. A—TH—R. +</H3> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER I. +</H3> + +<P> +"One cigar a day!" said Judge Boompointer. +</P> + +<P> +"One cigar a day!" repeated John Jenkins, as with trepidation he +dropped his half-consumed cigar under his work-bench. +</P> + +<P> +"One cigar a day is three cents a day," remarked Judge Boompointer, +gravely; "and do you know, sir, what one cigar a day, or three cents a +day, amounts to in the course of four years?" +</P> + +<P> +John Jenkins, in his boyhood, had attended the village school, and +possessed considerable arithmetical ability. Taking up a shingle which +lay upon his work-bench, and producing a piece of chalk, with a feeling +of conscious pride he made an exhaustive calculation. +</P> + +<P> +"Exactly forty-three dollars and eighty cents," he replied, wiping the +perspiration from his heated brow, while his face flushed with honest +enthusiasm. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, sir, if you saved three cents a day, instead of wasting it, you +would now be the possessor of a new suit of clothes, an illustrated +Family Bible, a pew in the church, a complete set of Patent Office +Reports, a hymn-book, and a paid subscription to Arthur's Home +Magazine, which could be purchased for exactly forty-three dollars and +eighty cents; and," added the Judge, with increasing sternness, "if you +calculate leap-year, which you seem to have strangely omitted, you have +three cents more, sir; THREE CENTS MORE! What would that buy you, sir?" +</P> + +<P> +"A cigar," suggested John Jenkins; but, coloring again deeply, he hid +his face. +</P> + +<P> +"No, sir," said the Judge, with a sweet smile of benevolence stealing +over his stern features; "properly invested, it would buy you that +which passeth all price. Dropped into the missionary-box, who can tell +what heathen, now idly and joyously wantoning in nakedness and sin, +might be brought to a sense of his miserable condition, and made, +through that three cents, to feel the torments of the wicked?" +</P> + +<P> +With these words the Judge retired, leaving John Jenkins buried in +profound thought. "Three cents a day," he muttered. "In forty years I +might be worth four hundred and thirty-eight dollars and ten +cents,—and then I might marry Mary. Ah, Mary!" The young carpenter +sighed, and, drawing a twenty-five cent daguerreotype from his +vest-pocket, gazed long and fervidly upon the features of a young girl +in book muslin and a coral necklace. Then, with a resolute expression, +he carefully locked the door of his workshop and departed. +</P> + +<P> +Alas! his good resolutions were too late. We trifle with the tide of +fortune which too often nips us in the bud and casts the dark shadow of +misfortune over the bright lexicon of youth! That night the +half-consumed fragment of John Jenkins's cigar set fire to his workshop +and burned it up, together with all his tools and materials. There was +no insurance. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER II. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE DOWNWARD PATH. +</H3> + +<P> +"Then you still persist in marrying John Jenkins?" queried Judge +Boompointer, as he playfully, with paternal familiarity, lifted the +golden curls of the village belle, Mary Jones. +</P> + +<P> +"I do," replied the fair young girl, in a low voice, that resembled +rock candy in its saccharine firmness,—"I do. He has promised to +reform. Since he lost all his property by fire—" +</P> + +<P> +"The result of his pernicious habit, though he illogically persists in +charging it to me," interrupted the Judge. +</P> + +<P> +"Since then," continued the young girl, "he has endeavored to break +himself of the habit. He tells me that he has substituted the stalks +of the Indian ratan, the outer part of a leguminous plant called the +smoking-bean, and the fragmentary and unconsumed remainder of cigars +which occur at rare and uncertain intervals along the road, which, as +he informs me, though deficient in quality and strength, are +comparatively inexpensive." And, blushing at her own eloquence, the +young girl hid her curls on the Judge's arm. +</P> + +<P> +"Poor thing!" muttered Judge Boompointer. "Dare I tell her all? Yet I +must." +</P> + +<P> +"I shall cling to him," continued the young girl, rising with her +theme, "as the young vine clings to some hoary ruin. Nay, nay, chide +me not, Judge Boompointer. I will marry John Jenkins!" +</P> + +<P> +The Judge was evidently affected. Seating himself at the table, he +wrote a few lines hurriedly upon a piece of paper, which he folded and +placed in the fingers of the destined bride of John Jenkins. +</P> + +<P> +"Mary Jones," said the Judge, with impressive earnestness, "take this +trifle as a wedding gift from one who respects your fidelity and +truthfulness. At the altar let it be a reminder of me." And covering +his face hastily with a handkerchief, the stern and iron-willed man +left the room. As the door closed, Mary unfolded the paper. It was an +order on the corner grocery for three yards of flannel, a paper of +needles, four pounds of soap, one pound of starch, and two boxes of +matches! +</P> + +<P> +"Noble and thoughtful man!" was all Mary Jones could exclaim, as she +hid her face in her hands and burst into a flood of tears. +</P> + +<HR ALIGN="center" WIDTH="60%"> + +<P> +The bells of Cloverdale are ringing merrily. It is a wedding. "How +beautiful they look!" is the exclamation that passes from lip to lip, +as Mary Jones, leaning timidly on the arm of John Jenkins, enters the +church. But the bride is agitated, and the bridegroom betrays a +feverish nervousness. As they stand in the vestibule, John Jenkins +fumbles earnestly in his vest-pocket. Can it be the ring he is anxious +about? No. He draws a small brown substance from his pocket, and +biting off a piece, hastily replaces the fragment and gazes furtively +around. Surely no one saw him? Alas! the eyes of two of that wedding +party saw the fatal act. Judge Boompointer shook his head sternly. +Mary Jones sighed and breathed a silent prayer. Her husband chewed! +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER III. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +AND LAST. +</H3> + +<P> +"What! more bread?" said John Jenkins, gruffly. "You're always asking +for money for bread. D—nation! Do you want to ruin me by your +extravagance?" and as he uttered these words he drew from his pocket a +bottle of whiskey, a pipe, and a paper of tobacco. Emptying the first +at a draught, he threw the empty bottle at the head of his eldest boy, +a youth of twelve summers. The missile struck the child full in the +temple, and stretched him a lifeless corpse. Mrs. Jenkins, whom the +reader will hardly recognize as the once gay and beautiful Mary Jones, +raised the dead body of her son in her arms, and carefully placing the +unfortunate youth beside the pump in the back yard, returned with +saddened step to the house. At another time, and in brighter days, she +might have wept at the occurrence. She was past tears now. +</P> + +<P> +"Father, your conduct is reprehensible!" said little Harrison Jenkins, +the youngest boy. "Where do you expect to go when you die?" +</P> + +<P> +"Ah!" said John Jenkins, fiercely; "this comes of giving children a +liberal education; this is the result of Sabbath schools. Down, viper!" +</P> + +<P> +A tumbler thrown from the same parental fist laid out the youthful +Harrison cold. The four other children had, in the mean time, gathered +around the table with anxious expectancy. With a chuckle, the now +changed and brutal John Jenkins produced four pipes, and, filling them +with tobacco, handed one to each of his offspring and bade them smoke. +"It's better than bread!" laughed the wretch hoarsely. +</P> + +<P> +Mary Jenkins, though of a patient nature, felt it her duty now to +speak. "I have borne much, John Jenkins," she said. "But I prefer +that the children should not smoke. It is an unclean habit, and soils +their clothes. I ask this as a special favor!" +</P> + +<P> +John Jenkins hesitated,—the pangs of remorse began to seize him. +</P> + +<P> +"Promise me this, John!" urged Mary upon her knees. +</P> + +<P> +"I promise!" reluctantly answered John. +</P> + +<P> +"And you will put the money in a savings-bank?" +</P> + +<P> +"I will," repeated her husband; "and I'LL give up smoking, too." +</P> + +<P> +"'Tis well, John Jenkins!" said Judge Boompointer, appearing suddenly +from behind the door, where he had been concealed during this +interview. "Nobly said! my man. Cheer up! I will see that the +children are decently buried." The husband and wife fell into each +other's arms. And Judge Boompointer, gazing upon the affecting +spectacle, burst into tears. +</P> + +<P> +From that day John Jenkins was an altered man. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="notitle"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +NO TITLE. +</H2> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +By W—LK—E C—LL—NS. +</H3> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +PROLOGUE. +</H3> + +<P> +The following advertisement appeared in the "Times" of the 17th of +June, 1845:— +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +WANTED.—A few young men for a light genteel employment. + Address J. W., P. O.<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +In the same paper, of same date, in another column:— +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +TO LET.—That commodious and elegant family mansion, No. 27 Limehouse +Road, Pultneyville, will be rented low to a respectable tenant if +applied for immediately, the family being about to remove to the +continent. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Under the local intelligence, in another column:— +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +MISSING.—An unknown elderly gentleman a week ago left his lodgings in +the Kent Road, since which nothing has been heard of him. He left no +trace of his identity except a portmanteau containing a couple of +shirts marked "209, WARD." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +To find the connection between the mysterious disappearance of the +elderly gentleman and the anonymous communication, the relevancy of +both these incidents to the letting of a commodious family mansion, and +the dead secret involved in the three occurrences, is the task of the +writer of this history. +</P> + +<P> +A slim young man with spectacles, a large hat, drab gaiters, and a +note-book, sat late that night with a copy of the "Times" before him, +and a pencil which he rattled nervously between his teeth in the +coffee-room of the "Blue Dragon." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="maryjones"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER I. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +MARY JONES'S NARRATIVE. +</H3> + +<P> +I am upper housemaid to the family that live at No. 27 Limehouse Road, +Pultneyville. I have been requested by Mr. Wilkey Collings, which I +takes the liberty of here stating is a gentleman born and bred, and has +some consideration for the feelings of servants, and is not above +rewarding them for their trouble, which is more than you can say for +some who ask questions and gets short answers enough, gracious knows, +to tell what I know about them. I have been requested to tell my story +in my own langwidge, though, being no schollard, mind cannot conceive. +I think my master is a brute. Do not know that he has ever attempted to +poison my missus,—which is too good for him, and how she ever came to +marry him, heart only can tell,—but believe him to be capable of any +such hatrosity. Have heard him swear dreadful because of not having his +shaving-water at nine o'clock precisely. Do not know whether he ever +forged a will or tried to get my missus' property, although, not having +confidence in the man, should not be surprised if he had done so. +Believe that there was always something mysterious in his conduct. +Remember distinctly how the family left home to go abroad. Was putting +up my back hair, last Saturday morning, when I heard a ring. Says +cook, "That's missus' bell, and mind you hurry or the master 'ill know +why." Says I, "Humbly thanking you, mem, but taking advice of them as +is competent to give it, I'll take my time." Found missus dressing +herself and master growling as usual. Says missus, quite calm and easy +like, "Mary, we begin to pack to-day." "What for, mem?" says I, taken +aback. "What's that hussy asking?" says master from the bedclothes +quite savage like. "For the Continent—Italy," says missus—"Can you +go Mary?" Her voice was quite gentle and saintlike, but I knew the +struggle it cost, and says I, "With YOU mem, to India's torrid clime, +if required, but with African Gorillas," says I, looking toward the +bed, "never." "Leave the room," says master, starting up and catching +of his bootjack. "Why Charles!" says missus, "how you talk!" affecting +surprise. "Do go Mary," says she, slipping a half-crown into my hand. +I left the room scorning to take notice of the odious wretch's conduct. +</P> + +<P> +Cannot say whether my master and missus were ever legally married. What +with the dreadful state of morals nowadays and them stories in the +circulating libraries, innocent girls don't know into what society they +might be obliged to take situations. Never saw missus' marriage +certificate, though I have quite accidental-like looked in her desk +when open, and would have seen it. Do not know of any lovers missus +might have had. Believe she had a liking for John Thomas, footman, for +she was always spiteful-like—poor lady—when we were together—though +there was nothing between us, as Cook well knows, and dare not deny, +and missus needn't have been jealous. Have never seen arsenic or +Prussian acid in any of the private drawers—but have seen paregoric +and camphor. One of my master's friends was a Count Moscow, a Russian +papist—which I detested. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="youngman"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER II. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE SLIM YOUNG MAN'S STORY. +</H3> + +<P> +I am by profession a reporter, and writer for the press. I live at +Pultneyville. I have always had a passion for the marvellous, and have +been distinguished for my facility in tracing out mysteries, and +solving enigmatical occurrences. On the night of the 17th June, 1845, +I left my office and walked homeward. The night was bright and +starlight. I was revolving in my mind the words of a singular item I +had just read in the "Times." I had reached the darkest portion of the +road, and found my self mechanically repeating: "An elderly gentleman a +week ago left his lodgings on the Kent Road," when suddenly I heard a +step behind me. +</P> + +<P> +I turned quickly, with an expression of horror in my face, and by the +light of the newly risen moon beheld an elderly gentleman, with green +cotton umbrella, approaching me. His hair, which was snow white, was +parted over a broad, open forehead. The expression of his face, which +was slightly flushed, was that of amiability verging almost upon +imbecility. There was a strange, inquiring look about the widely +opened mild blue eye,—a look that might have been intensified to +insanity, or modified to idiocy. As he passed me, he paused and partly +turned his face, with a gesture of inquiry. I see him still, his white +locks blowing in the evening breeze, his hat a little on the back of +his head, and his figure painted in relief against the dark blue sky. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly he turned his mild eye full upon me. A weak smile played +about his thin lips. In a voice which had something of the +tremulousness of age and the self-satisfied chuckle of imbecility in +it, he asked, pointing to the rising moon, "Why?—hush!" +</P> + +<P> +He had dodged behind me, and appeared to be looking anxiously down the +road. I could feel his aged frame shaking with terror as he laid his +thin hands upon my shoulders and faced me in the direction of the +supposed danger. +</P> + +<P> +"Hush! did you not hear them coming?" +</P> + +<P> +I listened; there was no sound but the soughing of the roadside trees +in the evening wind. I endeavored to reassure him, with such success +that in a few moments the old weak smile appeared on his benevolent +face. +</P> + +<P> +"Why?—" But the look of interrogation was succeeded by a hopeless +blankness. +</P> + +<P> +"Why!" I repeated with assuring accents. +</P> + +<P> +"Why," he said, a gleam of intelligence flickering over his face, "is +yonder moon, as she sails in the blue empyrean, casting a flood of +light o'er hill and dale, like— Why," he repeated, with a feeble +smile, "is yonder moon, as she sails in the blue empyrean—" He +hesitated,—stammered,—and gazed at me hopelessly, with the tears +dripping from his moist and widely opened eyes. +</P> + +<P> +I took his hand kindly in my own. "Casting a shadow o'er hill and +dale," I repeated quietly, leading him up the subject, "like— Come, +now." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah!" he said, pressing my hand tremulously, "you know it?" +</P> + +<P> +"I do. Why is it like—the—eh—the commodious mansion on the +Limehouse Road?" +</P> + +<P> +A blank stare only followed. He shook his head sadly. "Like the young +men wanted for a light, genteel employment?" +</P> + +<P> +He wagged his feeble old head cunningly. +</P> + +<P> +"Or, Mr. Ward," I said, with bold confidence, "like the mysterious +disappearance from the Kent Road?" +</P> + +<P> +The moment was full of suspense. He did not seem to hear me. Suddenly +he turned. +</P> + +<P> +"Ha!" +</P> + +<P> +I darted forward. But he had vanished in the darkness. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="limehouse"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER III. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +NO. 27 LIMEHOUSE ROAD. +</H3> + +<P> +It was a hot midsummer evening. Limehouse Road was deserted save by +dust and a few rattling butchers' carts, and the bell of the muffin and +crumpet man. A commodious mansion, which stood on the right of the +road as you enter Pultneyville, surrounded by stately poplars and a +high fence surmounted by a chevaux de frise of broken glass, looked to +the passing and footsore pedestrian like the genius of seclusion and +solitude. A bill announcing in the usual terms that the house was to +let, hung from the bell at the servants' entrance. +</P> + +<P> +As the shades of evening closed, and the long shadows of the poplars +stretched across the road, a man carrying a small kettle stopped and +gazed, first at the bill and then at the house. When he had reached +the corner of the fence, he again stopped and looked cautiously up and +down the road. Apparently satisfied with the result of his scrutiny, +he deliberately sat himself down in the dark shadow of the fence, and +at once busied himself in some employment, so well concealed as to be +invisible to the gaze of passers-by. At the end of an hour he retired +cautiously. +</P> + +<P> +But not altogether unseen. A slim young man, with spectacles and +note-book, stepped from behind a tree as the retreating figure of the +intruder was lost in the twilight, and transferred from the fence to +his note-book the freshly stencilled inscription, "S—T—1860—X." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="moscow"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IV. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +COUNT MOSCOW'S NARRATIVE. +</H3> + +<P> +I am a foreigner. Observe! To be a foreigner in England is to be +mysterious, suspicious, intriguing. M. Collins has requested the +history of my complicity with certain occurrences. It is nothing, bah! +absolutely nothing. +</P> + +<P> +I write with ease and fluency. Why should I not write? Tra la la? I +am what you English call corpulent. Ha, ha! I am a pupil of +Macchiavelli. I find it much better to disbelieve everything, and to +approach my subject and wishes circuitously, than in a direct manner. +You have observed that playful animal, the cat. Call it, and it does +not come to you directly, but rubs itself against all the furniture in +the room, and reaches you finally—and scratches. Ah, ha, scratches! I +am of the feline species. People call me a villain—bah! +</P> + +<P> +I know the family, living No. 27 Limehouse Road. I respect the +gentleman,—a fine, burly specimen of your Englishman,—and madame, +charming, ravishing, delightful. When it became known to me that they +designed to let their delightful residence, and visit foreign shores, I +at once called upon them. I kissed the hand of madame. I embraced the +great Englishman. Madame blushed slightly. The great Englishman shook +my hand like a mastiff. +</P> + +<P> +I began in that dexterous, insinuating manner, of which I am truly +proud. I thought madame was ill. Ah, no. A change, then, was all +that was required. I sat down at the piano and sang. In a few minutes +madame retired. I was alone with my friend. +</P> + +<P> +Seizing his hand, I began with every demonstration of courteous +sympathy. I do not repeat my words, for my intention was conveyed more +in accent, emphasis, and manner, than speech. I hinted to him that he +had another wife living. I suggested that this was balanced—ha!—by +his wife's lover. That, possibly, he wished to fly; hence the letting +of his delightful mansion. That he regularly and systematically beat +his wife in the English manner, and that she repeatedly deceived me. I +talked of hope, of consolation, of remedy. I carelessly produced a +bottle of strychnine and a small vial of stramonium from my pocket, and +enlarged on the efficiency of drugs. His face, which had gradually +become convulsed, suddenly became fixed with a frightful expression. +He started to his feet, and roared: "You d—d Frenchman!" +</P> + +<P> +I instantly changed my tactics, and endeavored to embrace him. He +kicked me twice, violently. I begged permission to kiss madame's hand. +He replied by throwing me down stairs. +</P> + +<P> +I am in bed with my head bound up, and beef-steaks upon my eyes, but +still confident and buoyant. I have not lost faith in Macchiavelli. +Tra la la! as they sing in the opera. I kiss everybody's hands. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="diggs"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER V. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +DR. DIGGS'S STATEMENT. +</H3> + +<P> +My name is David Diggs. I am a surgeon, living at No. 9 Tottenham +Court. On the 15th of June, 1854, I was called to see an elderly +gentleman lodging on the Kent Road. Found him highly excited, with +strong febrile symptoms, pulse 120, increasing. Repeated incoherently +what I judged to be the popular form of a conundrum. On closer +examination found acute hydrocephalus and both lobes of the brain +rapidly filling with water. In consultation with an eminent +phrenologist, it was further discovered that all the organs were more +or less obliterated, except that of Comparison. Hence the patient was +enabled to only distinguish the most common points of resemblance +between objects, without drawing upon other faculties, such as Ideality +or Language, for assistance. Later in the day found him +sinking,—being evidently unable to carry the most ordinary conundrum +to a successful issue. Exhibited Tinct. Val., Ext. Opii, and Camphor, +and prescribed quiet and emollients. On the 17th the patient was +missing. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER LAST. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +STATEMENT OF THE PUBLISHER. +</H3> + +<P> +On the 18th of June, Mr. Wilkie Collins left a roll of manuscript with +us for publication, without title or direction, since which time he has +not been heard from. In spite of the care of the proof-readers, and +valuable literary assistance, it is feared that the continuity of the +story has been destroyed by some accidental misplacing of chapters +during its progress. How and what chapters are so misplaced, the +publisher leaves to an indulgent public to discover. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="french"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +N N. +</H2> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BEING A NOVEL IN THE FRENCH PARAGRAPHIC STYLE. +</H3> + +<BR> + +<P> +—Mademoiselle, I swear to you that I love you. +</P> + +<P> +—You who read these pages. You who turn your burning eyes upon these +words—words that I trace— Ah, Heaven! the thought maddens me. +</P> + +<P> +—I will be calm. I will imitate the reserve of the festive +Englishman, who wears a spotted handkerchief which he calls a Belchio, +who eats biftek, and caresses a bulldog. I will subdue myself like him. +</P> + +<P> +—Ha! Poto-beer! All right—Goddam! +</P> + +<P> +—Or, I will conduct myself as the free-born American—the gay Brother +Jonathan! I will whittle me a stick. I will whistle to myself "Yankee +Doodle," and forget my passion in excessive expectoration. +</P> + +<P> +—Hoho!—wake snakes and walk chalks. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +The world is divided into two great divisions,—Paris and the +provinces. There is but one Paris. There are several provinces, among +which may be numbered England, America, Russia, and Italy. +</P> + +<P> +N N. was a Parisian. +</P> + +<P> +But N N. did not live in Paris. Drop a Parisian in the provinces, and +you drop a part of Paris with him. Drop him in Senegambia, and in +three days he will give you an omelette soufflee, or a pate de foie +gras, served by the neatest of Senegambian filles, whom he will call +Mademoiselle. In three weeks he will give you an opera. +</P> + +<P> +N N. was not dropped in Senegambia, but in San Francisco,—quite as +awkward. +</P> + +<P> +They find gold in San Francisco, but they don't understand gilding. +</P> + +<P> +N N. existed three years in this place. He became bald on the top of +his head, as all Parisians do. Look down from your box at the Opera +Comique, Mademoiselle, and count the bald crowns of the fast young men +in the pit. Ah—you tremble! They show where the arrows of love have +struck and glanced off. +</P> + +<P> +N N. was also near-sighted, as all Parisians finally become. This is a +gallant provision of Nature to spare them the mortification of +observing that their lady friends grow old. After a certain age every +woman is handsome to a Parisian. +</P> + +<P> +One day, N N. was walking down Washington street. Suddenly he stopped. +</P> + +<P> +He was standing before the door of a mantuamaker. Beside the counter, +at the farther extremity of the shop, stood a young and elegantly +formed woman. Her face was turned from N N. He entered. With a +plausible excuse, and seeming indifference, he gracefully opened +conversation with the mantuamaker as only a Parisian can. But he had to +deal with a Parisian. His attempts to view the features of the fair +stranger by the counter were deftly combated by the shop-woman. He was +obliged to retire. +</P> + +<P> +N N. went home and lost his appetite. He was haunted by the elegant +basque and graceful shoulders of the fair unknown, during the whole +night. +</P> + +<P> +The next day he sauntered by the mantuamaker. Ah! Heavens! A thrill +ran through his frame, and his fingers tingled with a delicious +electricity. The fair inconnue was there! He raised his hat +gracefully. He was not certain, but he thought that a slight motion of +her faultless bonnet betrayed recognition. He would have wildly darted +into the shop, but just then the figure of the mantuamaker appeared in +the doorway. +</P> + +<P> +—Did Monsieur wish anything? +</P> + +<P> +Misfortune! Desperation. N N. purchased a bottle of Prussic acid, a +sack of charcoal, and a quire of pink note-paper, and returned home. +He wrote a letter of farewell to the closely fitting basque, and opened +the bottle of Prussic acid. +</P> + +<P> +Some one knocked at his door. It was a Chinaman, with his weekly linen. +</P> + +<P> +These Chinese are docile, but not intelligent. They are ingenious, but +not creative. They are cunning in expedients, but deficient in tact. +In love they are simply barbarous. They purchase their wives openly, +and not constructively by attorney. By offering small sums for their +sweethearts, they degrade the value of the sex. +</P> + +<P> +Nevertheless, N N. felt he was saved. He explained all to the faithful +Mongolian, and exhibited the letter he had written. He implored him to +deliver it. +</P> + +<P> +The Mongolian assented. The race are not cleanly or sweet-savored, but +N N. fell upon his neck. He embraced him with one hand, and closed his +nostrils with the other. Through him, he felt he clasped the +close-fitting basque. +</P> + +<P> +The next day was one of agony and suspense. Evening came, but no +Mercy. N N. lit the charcoal. But, to compose his nerves, he closed +his door and first walked mildly up and down Montgomery Street. When +he returned, he found the faithful Mongolian on the steps. +</P> + +<P> +—All lity! +</P> + +<P> +These Chinese are not accurate in their pronunciation. They avoid the +r, like the English nobleman. +</P> + +<P> +N N. gasped for breath. He leaned heavily against the Chinaman. +</P> + +<P> +—Then you have seen her, Ching Long? +</P> + +<P> +—Yes. All lity. She cum. Top side of house. +</P> + +<P> +The docile barbarian pointed up the stairs, and chuckled. +</P> + +<P> +—She here—impossible! Ah, Heaven! do I dream? +</P> + +<P> +—Yes. All lity,—top side of house. Good by, John. +</P> + +<P> +This is the familiar parting epithet of the Mongolian. It is +equivalent to our au revoir. +</P> + +<P> +N N. gazed with a stupefied air on the departing servant. +</P> + +<P> +He placed his hand on his throbbing heart. She here,—alone beneath +this roof. O Heavens, what happiness! +</P> + +<P> +But how? Torn from her home. Ruthlessly dragged, perhaps, from her +evening devotions, by the hands of a relentless barbarian. Could she +forgive him? +</P> + +<P> +He dashed frantically up the stairs. He opened the door. She was +standing beside his couch with averted face. +</P> + +<P> +A strange giddiness overtook him. He sank upon his knees at the +threshold. +</P> + +<P> +—Pardon, pardon. My angel, can you forgive me? +</P> + +<P> +A terrible nausea now seemed added to the fearful giddiness. His +utterance grew thick and sluggish. +</P> + +<P> +—Speak, speak, enchantress. Forgiveness is all I ask. My Love, my +Life! +</P> + +<P> +She did not answer. He staggered to his feet. As he rose, his eyes +fell on the pan of burning charcoal. A terrible suspicion flashed +across his mind. This giddiness,—this nausea. The ignorance of the +barbarian. This silence. O merciful heavens! she was dying! +</P> + +<P> +He crawled toward her. He touched her. She fell forward with a +lifeless sound upon the floor. He uttered a piercing shriek, and threw +himself beside her. +</P> + +<HR ALIGN="center" WIDTH="60%"> + +<P> +A file of gendarmes, accompanied by the Chef Burke, found him the next +morning lying lifeless upon the floor. They laughed brutally,—these +cruel minions of the law,—and disengaged his arm from the waist of the +wooden dummy which they had come to reclaim for the mantuamaker. +</P> + +<P> +Emptying a few bucketfuls of water over his form, they finally +succeeded in robbing him, not only of his mistress, but of that Death +he had coveted without her. +</P> + +<P> +Ah! we live in a strange world, Messieurs. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="fantine"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +FANTINE. +</H2> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +AFTER THE FRENCH OF VICTOR HUGO. +</H3> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +PROLOGUE. +</H3> + +<P CLASS="intro"> +As long as there shall exist three paradoxes, a moral Frenchman, a +religious Atheist, and a believing sceptic; so long, in fact, as +booksellers shall wait—say twenty-five years—for a new gospel; so +long as paper shall remain cheap and ink three sous a bottle, I have no +hesitation in saying that such books as these are not utterly +profitless. +<BR><BR> +VICTOR HUGO. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +I. +</H3> + +<P CLASS="intro"> +To be good is to be queer. What is a good man? Bishop Myriel. +</P> + +<P> +My friend, you will possibly object to this. You will say you know +what a good man is. Perhaps you will say your clergyman is a good man, +for instance. +</P> + +<P> +Bah! you are mistaken; you are an Englishman, and an Englishman is a +beast. +</P> + +<P> +Englishmen think they are moral when they are only serious. These +Englishmen also wear ill-shaped hats, and dress horribly! +</P> + +<P> +Bah! they are canaille. +</P> + +<P> +Still, Bishop Myriel was a good man,—quite as good as you. Better +than you, in fact. +</P> + +<P> +One day M. Myriel was in Paris. This angel used to walk about the +streets like any other man. He was not proud, though fine-looking. +Well, three gamins de Paris called him bad names. Says one:— +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, mon Dieu! there goes a priest; look out for your eggs and +chickens!" +</P> + +<P> +What did this good man do? He called to them kindly. +</P> + +<P> +"My children," said he, "this is clearly not your fault. I recognize +in this insult and irreverence only the fault of your immediate +progenitors. Let us pray for your immediate progenitors." +</P> + +<P> +They knelt down and prayed for their immediate progenitors. +</P> + +<P> +The effect was touching. +</P> + +<P> +The Bishop looked calmly around. +</P> + +<P> +"On reflection," said he, gravely, "I was mistaken; this is clearly the +fault of Society. Let us pray for Society." +</P> + +<P> +They knelt down and prayed for Society. +</P> + +<P> +The effect was sublimer yet. What do you think of that? You, I mean. +</P> + +<P> +Everybody remembers the story of the Bishop and Mother Nez Retrousse. +Old Mother Nez Retrouse sold asparagus. She was poor; there's a great +deal of meaning in that word, my friend. Some people say "poor but +honest." I say, Bah! +</P> + +<P> +Bishop Myriel bought six bunches of asparagus. This good man had one +charming failing; he was fond of asparagus. He gave her a franc and +received three sous change. +</P> + +<P> +The sous were bad,—counterfeit. What did this good Bishop do? He +said: "I should not have taken change from a poor woman." +</P> + +<P> +Then afterwards, to his housekeeper: "Never take change from a poor +woman." +</P> + +<P> +Then he added to himself: "For the sous will probably be bad." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +II. +</H3> + +<P> +When a man commits a crime, society claps him in prison. A prison is +one of the worst hotels imaginable. The people there are low and +vulgar. The butter is bad, the coffee is green. Ah, it is horrible! +</P> + +<P> +In prison, as in a bad hotel, a man soon loses, not only his morals, +but what is much worse to a Frenchman, his sense of refinement and +delicacy. +</P> + +<P> +Jean Valjean came from prison with confused notions of society. He +forgot the modern peculiarities of hospitality. So he walked off with +the Bishop's candlesticks. +</P> + +<P> +Let us consider: candlesticks were stolen; that was evident. Society +put Jean Valjean in prison; that was evident, too. In prison, Society +took away his refinement; that is evident, likewise. +</P> + +<P> +Who is Society? +</P> + +<P> +You and I are Society. +</P> + +<P> +My friend, you and I stole those candlesticks! +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +III. +</H3> + +<P> +The Bishop thought so, too. He meditated profoundly for six days. On +the morning of the seventh he went to the Prefecture of Police. +</P> + +<P> +He said: "Monsieur, have me arrested. I have stolen candlesticks." +</P> + +<P> +The official was governed by the law of Society, and refused. +</P> + +<P> +What did this Bishop do? +</P> + +<P> +He had a charming ball and chain made, affixed to his leg, and wore it +the rest of his life. +</P> + +<P> +This is a fact! +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +IV. +</H3> + +<P> +Love is a mystery. +</P> + +<P> +A little friend of mine down in the country, at Auvergne, said to me +one day: "Victor, Love is the world,—it contains everything." +</P> + +<P> +She was only sixteen, this sharp-witted little girl, and a beautiful +blonde. She thought everything of me. +</P> + +<P> +Fantine was one of those women who do wrong in the most virtuous and +touching manner. This is a peculiarity of French grisettes. +</P> + +<P> +You are an Englishman, and you don't understand. Learn, my friend, +learn. Come to Paris and improve your morals. +</P> + +<P> +Fantine was the soul of modesty. She always wore high-neck dresses. +High-neck dresses are a sign of modesty. +</P> + +<P> +Fantine loved Tholmoyes. Why? My God! What are you to do? It was +the fault of her parents, and she hadn't any. How shall you teach her? +You must teach the parent if you wish to educate the child. How would +you become virtuous? +</P> + +<P> +Teach your grandmother! +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +V. +</H3> + +<P> +When Tholmoyes ran away from Fantine,—which was done in a charming, +gentlemanly manner,—Fantine became convinced that a rigid sense of +propriety might look upon her conduct as immoral. She was a creature of +sensitiveness,—and her eyes were opened. +</P> + +<P> +She was virtuous still, and resolved to break off the liaison at once. +</P> + +<P> +So she put up her wardrobe and baby in a bundle. Child as she was, she +loved them both. Then left Paris. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +VI. +</H3> + +<P> +Fantine's native place had changed. +</P> + +<P> +M. Madeline—an angel, and inventor of jet work—had been teaching the +villagers how to make spurious jet. +</P> + +<P> +This is a progressive age. Those Americans,—children of the +West,—they make nutmegs out of wood. +</P> + +<P> +I, myself, have seen hams made of pine, in the wigwams of those +children of the forest. +</P> + +<P> +But civilization has acquired deception too. Society is made up of +deception. Even the best French society. +</P> + +<P> +Still there was one sincere episode. +</P> + +<P> +Eh? +</P> + +<P> +The French Revolution! +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +VII. +</H3> + +<P> +M. Madeline was, if anything, better than Myriel. +</P> + +<P> +M. Myriel was a saint. M. Madeline a good man. +</P> + +<P> +M. Myriel was dead. M. Madeline was living. +</P> + +<P> +That made all the difference. +</P> + +<P> +M. Madeline made virtue profitable. I have seen it written:— +</P> + +<P> +"Be virtuous and you will be happy." +</P> + +<P> +Where did I see this written? In the modern Bible? No. In the Koran? +No. In Rousseau? No. Diderot? No. Where then? +</P> + +<P> +In a copy-book. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +VIII. +</H3> + +<P> +M. Madeline was M. le Maire. +</P> + +<P> +This is how it came about. +</P> + +<P> +For a long time he refused the honor. One day an old woman, standing +on the steps, said:— +</P> + +<P> +"Bah, a good mayor is a good thing. +</P> + +<P> +"You are a good thing. +</P> + +<P> +"Be a good mayor." +</P> + +<P> +This woman was a rhetorician. She understood inductive ratiocination. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +IX. +</H3> + +<P> +When this good M. Madeline, whom the reader will perceive must have +been a former convict, and a very bad man, gave himself up to justice +as the real Jean Valjean, about this same time, Fantine was turned away +from the manufactory, and met with a number of losses from society. +Society attacked her, and this is what she lost:— +</P> + +<P> +First her lover. +</P> + +<P> +Then her child. +</P> + +<P> +Then her place. +</P> + +<P> +Then her hair. +</P> + +<P> +Then her teeth. +</P> + +<P> +Then her liberty. +</P> + +<P> +Then her life. +</P> + +<P> +What do you think of society after that? I tell you the present social +system is a humbug. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +X. +</H3> + +<P> +This is necessarily the end of Fantine. There are other things that +will be stated in other volumes to follow. Don't be alarmed; there are +plenty of miserable people left. +</P> + +<P> +Au revoir—my friend. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="lafemme"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +"LA FEMME." +</H2> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +AFTER THE FRENCH OF M. MICHELET. +</H3> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +I. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +WOMEN AS AN INSTITUTION. +</H3> + +<P> +"If it were not for women, few of us would at present be in existence." +This is the remark of a cautious and discreet writer. He was also +sagacious and intelligent. +</P> + +<P> +Woman! Look upon her and admire her. Gaze upon her and love her. If +she wishes to embrace you, permit her. Remember she is weak and you +are strong. +</P> + +<P> +But don't treat her unkindly. Don't make love to another woman before +her face, even if she be your wife. Don't do it. Always be polite, +even should she fancy somebody better than you. +</P> + +<P> +If your mother, my dear Amadis, had not fancied your father better than +somebody, you might have been that somebody's son. Consider this. +Always be a philosopher, even about women. +</P> + +<P> +Few men understand women. Frenchmen, perhaps, better than any one +else. I am a Frenchman. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +II. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE INFANT. +</H3> + +<P> +She is a child—a little thing—an infant. +</P> + +<P> +She has a mother and father. Let us suppose, for example, they are +married. Let us be moral if we cannot be happy and free—they are +married—perhaps—they love one another—who knows? +</P> + +<P> +But she knows nothing of this; she is an infant—a small thing—a +trifle! +</P> + +<P> +She is not lovely at first. It is cruel, perhaps, but she is red, and +positively ugly. She feels this keenly and cries. She weeps. Ah, my +God, how she weeps! Her cries and lamentations now are really +distressing. +</P> + +<P> +Tears stream from her in floods. She feels deeply and copiously like +M. Alphonse de Lamartine in his Confessions. +</P> + +<P> +If you are her mother, Madame, you will fancy worms; you will examine +her linen for pins, and what not. Ah, hypocrite! you, even YOU, +misunderstand her. +</P> + +<P> +Yet she has charming natural impulses. See how she tosses her dimpled +arms. She looks longingly at her mother. She has a language of her +own. She says, "goo goo," and "ga ga." +</P> + +<P> +She demands something—this infant! +</P> + +<P> +She is faint, poor thing. She famishes. She wishes to be restored. +Restore her, Mother! +</P> + +<P> +It is the first duty of a mother to restore her child! +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +III. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE DOLL. +</H3> + +<P> +She is hardly able to walk; she already totters under the weight of a +doll. +</P> + +<P> +It is a charming and elegant affair. It has pink cheeks and +purple-black hair. She prefers brunettes, for she has already, with +the quick knowledge of a French infant, perceived she is a blonde, and +that her doll cannot rival her. Mon Dieu, how touching! Happy child! +She spends hours in preparing its toilet. She begins to show her taste +in the exquisite details of its dress. She loves it madly, devotedly. +She will prefer it to bonbons. She already anticipates the wealth of +love she will hereafter pour out on her lover, her mother, her father, +and finally, perhaps, her husband. +</P> + +<P> +This is the time the anxious parent will guide these first outpourings. +She will read her extracts from Michelet's L'Amour, Rousseau's Heloise, +and the Revue des deux Mondes. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +IV. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE MUD PIE. +</H3> + +<P> +She was in tears to-day. +</P> + +<P> +She had stolen away from her bonne and was with some rustic infants. +They had noses in the air, and large, coarse hands and feet. +</P> + +<P> +They had seated themselves around a pool in the road, and were +fashioning fantastic shapes in the clayey soil with their hands. Her +throat swelled and her eyes sparkled with delight as, for the first +time, her soft palms touched the plastic mud. She made a graceful and +lovely pie. She stuffed it with stones for almonds and plums. She +forgot everything. It was being baked in the solar rays, when madame +came and took her away. +</P> + +<P> +She weeps. It is night, and she is weeping still. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +V. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +HER FIRST LOVE. +</H3> + +<P> +She no longer doubts her beauty. She is loved. She saw him secretly. +He is vivacious and sprightly. He is famous. He has already had an +affair with Finfin, the fille de chambre, and poor Finfin is desolate. +He is noble. She knows he is the son of Madame la Baronne Couturiere. +She adores him. +</P> + +<P> +She affects not to notice him. Poor little thing! Hippolyte is +distracted—annihilated—inconsolable and charming. +</P> + +<P> +She admires his boots, his cravat, his little gloves his exquisite +pantaloons—his coat, and cane. +</P> + +<P> +She offers to run away with him. He is transported, but magnanimous. +He is wearied, perhaps. She sees him the next day offering flowers to +the daughter of Madame la Comtesse Blanchisseuse. +</P> + +<P> +She is again in tears. +</P> + +<P> +She reads Paul et Virginie. She is secretly transported. When she +reads how the exemplary young woman laid down her life rather than +appear en deshabille to her lover, she weeps again. Tasteful and +virtuous Bernardine de St. Pierre!—the daughters of France admire you! +</P> + +<P> +All this time her doll is headless in the cabinet. The mud pie is +broken on the road. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +VI. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE WIFE. +</H3> + +<P> +She is tired of loving and she marries. +</P> + +<P> +Her mother thinks it, on the whole, the best thing. As the day +approaches, she is found frequently in tears. Her mother will not +permit the affianced one to see her, and he makes several attempts to +commit suicide. +</P> + +<P> +But something happens. Perhaps it is winter, and the water is cold. +Perhaps there are not enough people present to witness his heroism. +</P> + +<P> +In this way her future husband is spared to her. The ways of +Providence are indeed mysterious. At this time her mother will talk +with her. She will offer philosophy. She will tell her she was +married herself. +</P> + +<P> +But what is this new and ravishing light that breaks upon her? The +toilet and wedding clothes! She is in a new sphere. +</P> + +<P> +She makes out her list in her own charming writing. Here it is. Let +every mother heed it.* +</P> + +<HR ALIGN="center" WIDTH="60%"> + +<HR ALIGN="center" WIDTH="60%"> + +<P> +She is married. On the day after, she meets her old lover, Hippolyte. +He is again transported. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="footnote"> +* The delicate reader will appreciate the omission of certain articles +for which English synonymes are forbidden. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +VII. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +HER OLD AGE. +</H3> + +<P> +A Frenchwoman never grows old. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="mcgillup"></A> +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +MARY MCGILLUP. +</H2> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +A SOUTHERN NOVEL. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +AFTER BELLE BOYD. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY G. A. S—LA. +</H3> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +INTRODUCTION. +</H3> + +<P> +"Will you write me up?" +</P> + +<P> +The scene was near Temple Bar. The speaker was the famous rebel Mary +McGillup,—a young girl of fragile frame, and long, lustrous black +hair. I must confess that the question was a peculiar one, and, under +the circumstances, somewhat puzzling. It was true I had been kindly +treated by the Northerners, and, though prejudiced against them, was to +some extent under obligations to them. It was true that I knew little +or nothing of American politics, history, or geography. But when did +an English writer ever weigh such trifles? Turning to the speaker, I +inquired with some caution the amount of pecuniary compensation offered +for the work. +</P> + +<P> +"Sir!" she said, drawing her fragile form to its full height, "you +insult me,—you insult the South." +</P> + +<P> +"But look ye here, d'ye see—the tin—the blunt—the ready—the stiff; +you know. Don't ye see, we can't do without that, you know!" +</P> + +<P> +"It shall be contingent on the success of the story," she answered +haughtily. "In the mean time take this precious gem." And drawing a +diamond ring from her finger, she placed it with a roll of MSS. in my +hands and vanished. +</P> + +<P> +Although unable to procure more than L1 2s. 6 d. from an intelligent +pawnbroker to whom I stated the circumstances and with whom I pledged +the ring, my sympathies with the cause of a downtrodden and chivalrous +people were at once enlisted. I could not help wondering that in rich +England, the home of the oppressed and the free, a young and lovely +woman like the fair author of those pages should be obliged to thus +pawn her jewels—her marriage gift—for the means to procure her bread! +With the exception of the English aristocracy,—who much resemble +them,—I do not know of a class of people that I so much admire as the +Southern planters. May I become better acquainted with both! +</P> + +<P> +Since writing the above, the news of Mr. Lincoln's assassination has +reached me. It is enough for me to say that I am dissatisfied with the +result. I do not attempt to excuse the assassin. Yet there will be +men who will charge this act upon the chivalrous South. This leads me +to repeat a remark once before made by me in this connection which has +become justly celebrated. It is this:— +</P> + +<P> +"It is usual, in cases of murder, to look for the criminal among those +who expect to be benefited by the crime. In the death of Lincoln, his +immediate successor in office alone receives the benefit of his dying." +</P> + +<P> +If her Majesty Queen Victoria were assassinated, which Heaven forbid, +the one most benefited by her decease would, of course, be his Royal +Highness the Prince of Wales, her immediate successor. It would be +unnecessary to state that suspicion would at once point to the real +culprit, which would of course be his Royal Highness. This is logic. +</P> + +<P> +But I have done. After having thus stated my opinion in favor of the +South, I would merely remark that there is One who judgeth all +things,—who weigheth the cause between brother and brother,—and +awardeth the perfect retribution; and whose ultimate decision I, as a +British subject, have only anticipated. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +G. A. S. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER I. +</H3> + +<P> +Every reader of Belle Boyd's narrative will remember an allusion to a +"lovely, fragile-looking girl of nineteen," who rivalled Belle Boyd in +devotion to the Southern cause, and who, like her, earned the enviable +distinction of being a "rebel spy." +</P> + +<P> +I am that "fragile" young creature. Although on friendly terms with +the late Miss Boyd, now Mrs. Hardinge, candor compels me to state that +nothing but our common politics prevents me from exposing the +ungenerous spirit she has displayed in this allusion. To be dismissed +in a single paragraph after years of— But I anticipate. To put up +with this feeble and forced acknowledgment of services rendered would +be a confession of a craven spirit, which, thank God, though "fragile" +and only "nineteen," I do not possess. I may not have the "blood of a +Howard" in my veins, as some people, whom I shall not disgrace myself +by naming, claim to have, but I have yet to learn that the race of +McGillup ever yet brooked slight or insult. I shall not say that +attention in certain quarters seems to have turned SOME PEOPLE'S heads; +nor that it would have been more delicate if certain folks had kept +quiet on the subject of their courtship, and the rejection of certain +offers, when it is known that their forward conduct was all that +procured them a husband! Thank heaven, the South has some daughters +who are above such base considerations! While nothing shall tempt me +to reveal the promises to share equally the fame of certain +enterprises, which were made by one who shall now be nameless, I have +deemed it only just to myself to put my own adventures upon record. If +they are not equal to those of another individual, it is because, +though "fragile," my education has taught me to have some consideration +for the truth. I am done. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER II. +</H3> + +<P> +I was born in Missouri. My dislike for the Northern scum was inherent. +This was shown, at an early age, in the extreme distaste I exhibited +for Webster's spelling-book,—the work of a well-known Eastern +Abolitionist. I cannot be too grateful for the consideration shown by +my chivalrous father,—a gentleman of the old school,—who resisted to +the last an attempt to introduce Mitchell's Astronomy and Geography +into the public school of our district. When I state that this same +Mitchell became afterward a hireling helot in the Yankee Army, every +intelligent reader will appreciate the prophetic discrimination of this +true son of the South. +</P> + +<P> +I was eight years old when I struck the first blow for Southern freedom +against the Northern Tyrant. It is hardly necessary to state that in +this instance the oppressor was a pale, overworked New England +"schoolmarm." The principle for which I was contending, I felt, +however, to be the same. Resenting an affront put upon me, I one day +heaved a rock* at the head of the Vandal schoolmistress. I was seized +and overpowered. My pen falters as I reach the climax. English +readers will not give credit to this sickening story,—the civilized +world will avert its head,—but I, Mary McGillup, was publicly SPANKED! +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="footnote"> +* NOTE, BY G. A. S.—In the Southwest, any stone larger than a pea is +termed "a rock." +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER III. +</H3> + +<P> +But the chaotic vortex of civil war approached, and fell destruction, +often procrastinated, brooded in storm.* As the English people may +like to know what was really the origin of the rebellion, I have no +hesitation in giving them the true and only cause. Slavery had nothing +to do with it, although the violation of the Declaration of +Independence, in the disregard by the North of the Fugitive Slave +Law,** might have provoked a less fiery people than the Southrons. At +the inception of the struggle a large amount of Southern indebtedness +was held by the people of the North. To force payment from the +generous but insolvent debtor—to obtain liquidation from the Southern +planter—was really the soulless and mercenary object of the craven +Northerners. Let the common people of England look to this. Let the +improvident literary hack; the starved impecunious Grub Street debtor; +the newspaper frequenter of sponging-houses, remember this in their +criticisms of the vile and slavish Yankee. +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="footnote"> +* I make no pretension to fine writing, but perhaps Mrs. Hardinge can +lay over that. O, of course! M. McG. +</P> + +<P CLASS="footnote"> +** The Declaration of Independence grants to each subject "the pursuit +of life, liberty, and happiness." A fugitive slave may be said to +personify "life, liberty, and happiness." Hence his pursuit is really +legal. This is logic. G. A. S. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IV. +</H3> + +<P> +The roasting of an Abolitionist, by a greatly infuriated community, was +my first taste of the horrors of civil war. Heavens! Why will the +North persist in this fratricidal warfare? The expulsion of several +Union refugees, which soon followed, now fairly plunged my beloved +State in the seething vortex. +</P> + +<P> +I was sitting at the piano one afternoon, singing that stirring +refrain, so justly celebrated, but which a craven spirit, unworthy of +England, has excluded from some of her principal restaurants, and was +dwelling with some enthusiasm on the following line:— +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "Huzza! she spurns the Northern scum!"<BR> +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +when a fragment of that scum, clothed in that detestable blue uniform +which is the symbol of oppression, entered the apartment. "I have the +honor of addressing the celebrated rebel spy, Miss McGillup," said the +Vandal officer. +</P> + +<P> +In a moment I was perfectly calm. With the exception of slightly +expectorating twice in the face of the minion, I did not betray my +agitation. Haughtily, yet firmly, I replied:— +</P> + +<P> +"I am." +</P> + +<P> +"You looked as if you might be," the brute replied, as he turned on his +heel to leave the apartment. +</P> + +<P> +In an instant I threw myself before him. "You shall not leave here +thus," I shrieked, grappling him with an energy which no one, seeing my +frail figure, would have believed. "I know the reputation of your +hireling crew. I read your dreadful purpose in your eye. Tell me not +that your designs are not sinister. You came here to insult me,—to +kiss me, perhaps. You sha'n't,—you naughty man. Go away!" +</P> + +<P> +The blush of conscious degradation rose to the cheek of the Lincoln +hireling as he turned his face away from mine. +</P> + +<P> +In an instant I drew my pistol from my belt, which, in anticipation of +some such outrage, I always carried, and shot him. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER V. +</H3> + +<PRE> + "Thy forte was less to act than speak, + Maryland! + Thy politics were changed each week, + Maryland! + With Northern Vandals thou wast meek, + With sympathizers thou wouldst shriek, + I know thee—O, 'twas like thy cheek! + Maryland! my Maryland!" +</PRE> + +<BR> + +<P> +After committing the act described in the preceding chapter, which +every English reader will pardon, I went up stairs, put on a clean pair +of stockings, and, placing a rose in my lustrous black hair, proceeded +at once to the camp of Generals Price and Mosby to put them in +possession of information which would lead to the destruction of a +portion of the Federal Army. During a great part of my flight I was +exposed to a running fire from the Federal pickets of such coarse +expressions as, "Go it, Sally Reb," "Dust it, my Confederate beauty," +but I succeeded in reaching the glorious Southern camp uninjured. +</P> + +<P> +In a week afterwards I was arrested, by a lettre de cachet of Mr. +Stanton, and placed in the Bastile. British readers of my story will +express surprise at these terms, but I assure them that not only these +articles but tumbrils, guillotines, and conciergeries were in active +use among the Federals. If substantiation be required, I refer to the +Charleston Mercury, the only reliable organ, next to the New York Daily +News, published in the country. At the Bastile I made the acquaintance +of the accomplished and elegant author of Guy Livingstone,* to whom I +presented a curiously carved thigh-bone of a Union officer, and from +whom I received the following beautiful acknowledgment:— +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +"Demoiselle:—Should I ever win hame to my ain countrie, I make mine +avow to enshrine in my reliquaire this elegant bijouterie and offering +of La Belle Rebelle. Nay, methinks this fraction of man's anatomy were +some compensation for the rib lost by the 'grand old gardener,' Adam." +</P> + +<BR> + +<P CLASS="footnote"> +* The recent conduct of Mr. Livingstone renders him unworthy of my +notice. His disgusting praise of Belle Boyd, and complete ignoring of +my claims, show the artfulness of some females and puppyism of some +men. M. McG. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VI. +</H3> + +<P> +Released at last from durance vile and placed on board of an Erie +canal-boat, on my way to Canada, I for a moment breathed the sweets of +liberty. Perhaps the interval gave me opportunity to indulge in +certain reveries which I had hitherto sternly dismissed. Henry +Breckinridge Folair, a consistent copperhead, captain of the +canal-boat, again and again pressed that suit I had so often rejected. +</P> + +<P> +It was a lovely moonlight night. We sat on the deck of the gliding +craft. The moonbeam and the lash of the driver fell softly on the +flanks of the off horse, and only the surging of the tow-rope broke the +silence. Folair's arm clasped my waist. I suffered it to remain. +Placing in my lap a small but not ungrateful roll of checkerberry +lozenges, he took the occasion to repeat softly in my ear the words of +a motto he had just unwrapped—with its graceful covering of the tissue +paper—from a sugar almond. The heart of the wicked little rebel, Mary +McGillup, was won! +</P> + +<P> +The story of Mary McGillup is done. I might have added the journal of +my husband, Henry Breckinridge Folair, but as it refers chiefly to his +freights, and a schedule of his passengers, I have been obliged, +reluctantly, to suppress it. +</P> + +<P> +It is due to my friends to say that I have been requested not to write +this book. Expressions have reached my ears, the reverse of +complimentary. I have been told that its publication will probably +insure my banishment for life. Be it so. If the cause for which I +labored have been subserved, I am content. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +LONDON, May, 1865. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Condensed Novels, by Bret Harte + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CONDENSED NOVELS *** + +***** This file should be named 2277-h.htm or 2277-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/7/2277/ + +Produced by an anonymous Project Gutenberg volunteer. HTML +version by Al Haines. + + +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: Condensed Novels + +Author: Bret Harte + +Posting Date: March 21, 2009 [EBook #2277] +Release Date: August, 2000 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CONDENSED NOVELS *** + + + + +Produced by an anonymous Project Gutenberg volunteer. HTML +version by Al Haines. + + + + + + + + + +CONDENSED NOVELS + + +by + +BRET HARTE + + + + +Contents: + + HANDSOME IS AS HANDSOME DOES + LOTHAW, or THE ADVENTURES OF A YOUNG GENTLEMAN IN SEARCH OF A RELIGION + MUCK-A-MUCK, A MODERN INDIAN NOVEL, AFTER JAMES FENIMORE COOPER + TERENCE DENVILLE + SELINA SEDILIA + THE NINETY-NINE GUARDSMEN [AFTER THE THREE MUSKETEERS, BY DUMAS] + THE HAUNTED MAN + MISS MIX [AFTER CHARLOTTE BRONTE] + GUY HEAVYSTONE; OR, "ENTIRE." + MR. MIDSHIPMAN BREEZY + JOHN JENKINS; OR, THE SMOKER REFORMED + NO TITLE [AFTER WILKIE COLLINS] + Contains: + MARY JONES'S NARRATIVE + THE SLIM YOUNG MAN'S STORY + NO. 27 LIMEHOUSE ROAD + COUNT MOSCOW'S NARRATIVE + DR. DIGGS'S STATEMENT + BEING A NOVEL IN THE FRENCH PARAGRAPHIC STYLE + FANTINE + LA FEMME + MARY MCGILLUP, A SOUTHERN NOVEL, AFTER BELLE BOYD + + + + + +HANDSOME IS AS HANDSOME DOES. + +BY CH--S R--DE. + + +CHAPTER I. + + +The Dodds were dead. For twenty year they had slept under the green +graves of Kittery churchyard. The townfolk still spoke of them kindly. +The keeper of the alehouse, where David had smoked his pipe, regretted +him regularly, and Mistress Kitty, Mrs. Dodd's maid, whose trim figure +always looked well in her mistress's gowns, was inconsolable. The +Hardins were in America. Raby was aristocratically gouty; Mrs. Raby, +religious. Briefly, then, we have disposed of-- + +1. Mr. and Mrs. Dodd (dead). + +2. Mr. and Mrs. Hardin (translated). + +3. Raby, baron et femme. (Yet I don't know about the former; he came +of a long-lived family, and the gout is an uncertain disease.) + +We have active at the present writing (place aux dames)-- + +1. Lady Caroline Coventry, niece of Sir Frederick. + +2. Faraday Huxley Little, son of Henry and Grace Little, deceased. + +Sequitur to the above, A HERO AND HEROINE. + + + +CHAPTER II. + +On the death of his parents, Faraday Little was taken to Raby Hall. In +accepting his guardianship, Mr. Raby struggled stoutly against two +prejudices: Faraday was plain-looking and sceptical. + +"Handsome is as handsome does, sweetheart," pleaded Jael, interceding +for the orphan with arms that were still beautiful. "Dear knows, it is +not his fault if he does not look like--his father," she added with a +great gulp. Jael was a woman, and vindicated her womanhood by never +entirely forgiving a former rival. + +"It's not that alone, madam," screamed Raby, "but, d--m it, the little +rascal's a scientist,--an atheist, a radical, a scoffer! Disbelieves in +the Bible, ma'am; is full of this Darwinian stuff about natural +selection and descent. Descent, forsooth! In my day, madam, gentlemen +were content to trace their ancestors back to gentlemen, and not +to--monkeys!" + +"Dear heart, the boy is clever," urged Jael. + +"Clever!" roared Raby; "what does a gentleman want with cleverness?" + + + +CHAPTER III. + +Young Little WAS clever. At seven he had constructed a telescope; at +nine, a flying-machine. At ten he saved a valuable life. + +Norwood Park was the adjacent estate,--a lordly domain dotted with red +deer and black trunks, but scrupulously kept with gravelled roads as +hard and blue as steel. There Little was strolling one summer morning, +meditating on a new top with concealed springs. At a little distance +before him he saw the flutter of lace and ribbons. A young lady, a +very young lady,--say of seven summers,--tricked out in the crying +abominations of the present fashion, stood beside a low bush. Her +nursery-maid was not present, possibly owing to the fact that John the +footman was also absent. + +Suddenly Little came towards her. "Excuse me, but do you know what +those berries are?" He was pointing to the low bush filled with dark +clusters of shining--suspiciously shining--fruit. + +"Certainly; they are blueberries." + +"Pardon me; you are mistaken. They belong to quite another family." + +Miss Impudence drew herself up to her full height (exactly three feet +nine and a half inches), and, curling an eight of an inch of scarlet +lip, said, scornfully. "YOUR family, perhaps." + +Faraday Little smiled in the superiority of boyhood over girlhood. + +"I allude to the classification. That plant is the belladonna, or +deadly nightshade. Its alkaloid is a narcotic poison." + +Sauciness turned pale. "I--have--just--eaten--some!" And began to +whimper. "O dear, what shall I do?" Then did it, i. e. wrung her +small fingers and cried. + +"Pardon me one moment." Little passed his arm around her neck, and +with his thumb opened widely the patrician-veined lids of her sweet +blue eyes. "Thank Heaven, there is yet no dilation of the pupil; it is +not too late!" He cast a rapid glance around. The nozzle and about +three feet of garden hose lay near him. + +"Open your mouth, quick!" + +It was a pretty, kissable mouth. But young Little meant business. He +put the nozzle down her pink throat as far as it would go. + +"Now, don't move." + +He wrapped his handkerchief around a hoopstick. Then he inserted both +in the other end of the stiff hose. It fitted snugly. He shoved it in +and then drew it back. + +Nature abhors a vacuum. The young patrician was as amenable to this +law as the child of the lowest peasant. + +She succumbed. It was all over in a minute. Then she burst into a +small fury. + +"You nasty, bad--UGLY boy." + +Young Little winced, but smiled. + +"Stimulants," he whispered to the frightened nursery-maid who +approached; "good evening." He was gone. + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +The breach between young Little and Mr. Raby was slowly widening. +Little found objectionable features in the Hall. "This black oak +ceiling and wainscoating is not as healthful as plaster; besides, it +absorbs the light. The bedroom ceiling is too low; the Elizabethan +architects knew nothing of ventilation. The color of that oak +panelling which you admire is due to an excess of carbon and the exuvia +from the pores of your skin--" + +"Leave the house," bellowed Raby, "before the roof falls on your +sacrilegious head!" + +As Little left the house, Lady Caroline and a handsome boy of about +Little's age entered. Lady Caroline recoiled, and then--blushed. +Little glared; he instinctively felt the presence of a rival. + + + +CHAPTER V. + +Little worked hard. He studied night and day. In five years he became +a lecturer, then a professor. + +He soared as high as the clouds, he dipped as low as the cellars of the +London poor. He analyzed the London fog, and found it two parts smoke, +one disease, one unmentionable abominations. He published a pamphlet, +which was violently attacked. Then he knew he had done something. + +But he had not forgotten Caroline. He was walking one day in the +Zoological Gardens and he came upon a pretty picture,--flesh and blood +too. + +Lady Caroline feeding buns to the bears! An exquisite thrill passed +through his veins. She turned her sweet face and their eyes met. They +recollected their first meeting seven years before, but it was his turn +to be shy and timid. Wonderful power of age and sex! She met him with +perfect self-possession. + +"Well meant, but indigestible I fear" (he alluded to the buns). + +"A clever person like yourself can easily correct that" (she, the +slyboots, was thinking of something else). + +In a few moments they were chatting gayly. Little eagerly descanted +upon the different animals; she listened with delicious interest. An +hour glided delightfully away. + +After this sunshine, clouds. + +To them suddenly entered Mr. Raby and a handsome young man. The +gentlemen bowed stiffly and looked vicious,--as they felt. The lady of +this quartette smiled amiably, as she did not feel. + +"Looking at your ancestors, I suppose," said Mr. Raby, pointing to the +monkeys; "we will not disturb you. Come." And he led Caroline away. + +Little was heart-sick. He dared not follow them. But an hour later he +saw something which filled his heart with bliss unspeakable. + +Lady Caroline, with a divine smile on her face, feeding the monkeys! + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +Encouraged by love, Little worked hard upon his new flying-machine. His +labors were lightened by talking of the beloved one with her French +maid Therese, whom he had discreetly bribed. Mademoiselle Therese was +venal, like all her class, but in this instance I fear she was not +bribed by British gold. Strange as it may seem to the British mind, it +was British genius, British eloquence, British thought, that brought +her to the feet of this young savan. + +"I believe," said Lady Caroline, one day, interrupting her maid in a +glowing eulogium upon the skill of "M. Leetell,"--"I believe you are in +love with this Professor." A quick flush crossed the olive cheek of +Therese, which Lady Caroline afterward remembered. + +The eventful day of trial came. The public were gathered, impatient +and scornful as the pigheaded public are apt to be. In the open area a +long cylindrical balloon, in shape like a Bologna sausage, swayed above +the machine, from which, like some enormous bird caught in a net, it +tried to free itself. A heavy rope held it fast to the ground. + +Little was waiting for the ballast, when his eye caught Lady Caroline's +among the spectators. The glance was appealing. In a moment he was at +her side. + +"I should like so much to get into the machine," said the +arch-hypocrite, demurely. + +"Are you engaged to marry young Raby," said Little, bluntly. + +"As you please," she said with a courtesy; "do I take this as a +refusal?" + +Little was a gentleman. He lifted her and her lapdog into the car. + +"How nice! it won't go off?" + +"No, the rope is strong, and the ballast is not yet in." + +A report like a pistol, a cry from the spectators, a thousand hands +stretched to grasp the parted rope, and the balloon darted upward. + +Only one hand of that thousand caught the rope,--Little's! But in the +same instant the horror-stricken spectators saw him whirled from his +feet and borne upward, still clinging to the rope, into space. + + + +CHAPTER VII.* + +* The right of dramatization of this and succeeding chapters is +reserved by the writer. + + +Lady Caroline fainted. The cold watery nose of her dog on her cheek +brought her to herself. She dared not look over the edge of the car; +she dared not look up to the bellying monster above her, bearing her to +death. She threw herself on the bottom of the car, and embraced the +only living thing spared her,--the poodle. Then she cried. Then a +clear voice came apparently out of the circumambient air:-- + +"May I trouble you to look at the barometer?" + +She put her head over the car. Little was hanging at the end of a long +rope. She put her head back again. + +In another moment he saw her perplexed, blushing face over the +edge,--blissful sight. + +"O, please don't think of coming up! Stay there, do!" + +Little stayed. Of course she could make nothing out of the barometer, +and said so. Little smiled. + +"Will you kindly send it down to me?" + +But she had no string or cord. Finally she said, "Wait a moment." + +Little waited. This time her face did not appear. The barometer came +slowly down at the end of--a stay-lace. + +The barometer showed a frightful elevation. Little looked up at the +valve and said nothing. Presently he heard a sigh. Then a sob. Then, +rather sharply,-- + +"Why don't you do something?" + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +Little came up the rope hand over hand. Lady Caroline crouched in the +farther side of the car. Fido, the poodle, whined. "Poor thing," said +Lady Caroline, "it's hungry." + +"Do you wish to save the dog?" said Little. + +"Yes." + +"Give me your parasol." + +She handed Little a good-sized affair of lace and silk and whalebone. +(None of your "sunshades.") Little examined its ribs carefully. + +"Give me the dog." + +Lady Caroline hurriedly slipped a note under the dog's collar, and +passed over her pet. + +Little tied the dog to the handle of the parasol and launched them both +into space. The next moment they were slowly, but tranquilly, sailing +to the earth. + +"A parasol and a parachute are distinct, but not different. Be not +alarmed, he will get his dinner at some farm-house." + +"Where are we now?" + +"That opaque spot you see is London fog. Those twin clouds are North +and South America. Jerusalem and Madagascar are those specks to the +right." + +Lady Caroline moved nearer; she was becoming interested. Then she +recalled herself and said freezingly, "How are we going to descend?" + +"By opening the valve." + +"Why don't you open it then?" + +"BECAUSE THE VALVE-STRING IS BROKEN!" + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +Lady Caroline fainted. When she revived it was dark. They were +apparently cleaving their way through a solid block of black marble. +She moaned and shuddered. + +"I wish we had a light." + +"I have no lucifers," said Little. "I observe, however, that you wear +a necklace of amber. Amber under certain conditions becomes highly +electrical. Permit me." + +He took the amber necklace and rubbed it briskly. Then he asked her to +present her knuckle to the gem. A bright spark was the result. This +was repeated for some hours. The light was not brilliant, but it was +enough for the purposes of propriety, and satisfied the delicately +minded girl. + +Suddenly there was a tearing, hissing noise and a smell of gas. Little +looked up and turned pale. The balloon, at what I shall call the +pointed end of the Bologna sausage, was evidently bursting from +increased pressure. The gas was escaping, and already they were +beginning to descend. Little was resigned but firm. + +"If the silk gives way, then we are lost. Unfortunately I have no rope +nor material for binding it." + +The woman's instinct had arrived at the same conclusion sooner than the +man's reason. But she was hesitating over a detail. + +"Will you go down the rope for a moment?" she said, with a sweet smile. + +Little went down. Presently she called to him. She held something in +her hand,--a wonderful invention of the seventeenth century, improved +and perfected in this: a pyramid of sixteen circular hoops of light yet +strong steel, attached to each other by cloth bands. + +With a cry of joy Little seized them, climbed to the balloon, and +fitted the elastic hoops over its conical end. Then he returned to the +car. + +"We are saved." + +Lady Caroline, blushing, gathered her slim but antique drapery against +the other end of the car. + + + +CHAPTER X. + +They were slowly descending. Presently Lady Caroline distinguished the +outlines of Raby Hall. "I think I will get out here," she said. + +Little anchored the balloon and prepared to follow her. + +"Not so, my friend," she said, with an arch smile. "We must not be +seen together. People might talk. Farewell." + +Little sprang again into the balloon and sped away to America. He came +down in California, oddly enough in front of Hardin's door, at Dutch +Flat. Hardin was just examining a specimen of ore. + +"You are a scientist; can you tell me if that is worth anything?" he +said, handing it to Little. + +Little held it to the light. "It contains ninety per cent of silver." + +Hardin embraced him. "Can I do anything for you, and why are you here?" + +Little told his story. Hardin asked to see the rope. Then he examined +it carefully. + +"Ah, this was cut, not broken!" + +"With a knife?" asked Little. + +"No. Observe both sides are equally indented. It was done with a +SCISSORS!" + +"Just Heaven!" gasped Little. "Therese!" + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +Little returned to London. Passing through London one day he met a +dog-fancier. "Buy a nice poodle, sir?" + +Something in the animal attracted his attention. "Fido!" he gasped. + +The dog yelped. + +Little bought him. On taking off his collar a piece of paper rustled +to the floor. He knew the handwriting and kissed it. It ran:-- + + +"TO THE HON. AUGUSTUS RABY--I cannot marry you. If I marry any one" +(sly puss) "it will be the man who has twice saved my life,--Professor +Little. + +"CAROLINE COVENTRY." + + +And she did. + + + + +LOTHAW; + +OR, + +THE ADVENTURES OF A YOUNG GENTLEMAN IN SEARCH OF A RELIGION. + +BY MR. BENJAMINS. + + + +CHAPTER I. + +"I remember him a little boy," said the Duchess. "His mother was a +dear friend of mine; you know she was one of my bridesmaids." + +"And you have never seen him since, mamma?" asked the oldest married +daughter, who did not look a day older than her mother. + +"Never; he was an orphan shortly after. I have often reproached +myself, but it is so difficult to see boys." + +This simple yet first-class conversation existed in the morning-room of +Plusham, where the mistress of the palatial mansion sat involved in the +sacred privacy of a circle of her married daughters. One dexterously +applied golden knitting-needles to the fabrication of a purse of floss +silk of the rarest texture, which none who knew the almost fabulous +wealth of the Duke would believe was ever destined to hold in its +silken meshes a less sum than L1,000,000; another adorned a slipper +exclusively with seed pearls; a third emblazoned a page with rare +pigments and the finest quality of gold leaf. Beautiful forms leaned +over frames glowing with embroidery, and beautiful frames leaned over +forms inlaid with mother-of-pearl. Others, more remote, occasionally +burst into melody as they tried the passages of a new and exclusive air +given to them in MS. by some titled and devoted friend, for the private +use of the aristocracy alone, and absolutely prohibited for publication. + +The Duchess, herself the superlative of beauty, wealth, and position, +was married to the highest noble in the Three Kingdoms. Those who +talked about such matters said that their progeny were exactly like +their parents,--a peculiarity of the aristocratic and wealthy. They +all looked like brothers and sisters, except their parents, who, such +was their purity of blood, the perfection of their manners, and the +opulence of their condition, might have been taken for their own +children's elder son and daughter. The daughters, with one exception, +were all married to the highest nobles in the land. That exception was +the Lady Coriander, who, there being no vacancy above a marquis and a +rental of L1,000,000, waited. Gathered around the refined and sacred +circle of their breakfast-table, with their glittering coronets, which, +in filial respect to their father's Tory instincts and their mother's +Ritualistic tastes, they always wore on their regal brows, the effect +was dazzling as it was refined. It was this peculiarity and their +strong family resemblance which led their brother-in-law, the +good-humored St. Addlegourd, to say that, "'Pon my soul, you know, the +whole precious mob looked like a ghastly pack of court cards, you +know." St. Addlegourd was a radical. Having a rent-roll of +L15,000,000, and belonging to one of the oldest families in Britain, he +could afford to be. + +"Mamma, I've just dropped a pearl," said the Lady Coriander, bending +over the Persian hearthrug. + +"From your lips, sweet friend," said Lothaw, who came of age and +entered the room at the same moment. + +"No, from my work. It was a very valuable pearl, mamma; papa gave +Isaacs and Sons L50,000 for the two." + +"Ah, indeed," said the Duchess, languidly rising; "let us go to +luncheon." + +"But your Grace," interposed Lothaw, who was still quite young, and had +dropped on all-fours on the carpet in search of the missing gem, +"consider the value--" + +"Dear friend," interposed the Duchess, with infinite tact, gently +lifting him by the tails of his dress-coat, "I am waiting for your arm." + + + +CHAPTER II. + +Lothaw was immensely rich. The possessor of seventeen castles, fifteen +villas, nine shooting-boxes, and seven town houses, he had other +estates of which he had not even heard. + +Everybody at Plusham played croquet, and none badly. Next to their +purity of blood and great wealth, the family were famous for this +accomplishment. Yet Lothaw soon tired of the game, and after seriously +damaging his aristocratically large foot in an attempt to "tight +croquet" the Lady Aniseed's ball, he limped away to join the Duchess. + +"I'm going to the hennery," she said. + +"Let me go with you, I dearly love fowls--broiled," he added, +thoughtfully. + +"The Duke gave Lady Montairy some large Cochins the other day," +continued the Duchess, changing the subject with delicate tact. + + + "Lady Montairy, + Quite contrairy, + How do your cochins grow?" + + +sang Lothaw gayly. + +The Duchess looked shocked. After a prolonged silence, Lothaw abruptly +and gravely said:-- + +"If you please, ma'am, when I come into my property I should like to +build some improved dwellings for the poor, and marry Lady Coriander." + +"You amaze me, dear friend, and yet both your aspirations are noble and +eminently proper," said the Duchess; "Coriander is but a child,--and +yet," she added, looking graciously upon her companion, "for the matter +of that, so are you." + + + +CHAPTER III. + +Mr. Putney Giles's was Lothaw's first grand dinner-party. Yet, by +carefully watching the others, he managed to acquit himself creditably, +and avoided drinking out of the finger-bowl by first secretly testing +its contents with a spoon. The conversation was peculiar and +singularly interesting. + +"Then you think that monogamy is simply a question of the thermometer?" +said Mrs. Putney Giles to her companion. + +"I certainly think that polygamy should be limited by isothermal +lines," replied Lothaw. + +"I should say it was a matter of latitude," observed a loud talkative +man opposite. He was an Oxford Professor with a taste for satire, and +had made himself very obnoxious to the company, during dinner, by +speaking disparagingly of a former well-known Chancellor of the +Exchequer,--a great statesman and brilliant novelist,--whom he feared +and hated. + +Suddenly there was a sensation in the room; among the females it +absolutely amounted to a nervous thrill. His Eminence, the Cardinal, +was announced. He entered with great suavity of manner, and, after +shaking hands with everybody, asking after their relatives, and +chucking the more delicate females under the chin with a high-bred +grace peculiar to his profession, he sat down, saying, "And how do we +all find ourselves this evening, my dears?" in several different +languages, which he spoke fluently. + +Lothaw's heart was touched. His deeply religious convictions were +impressed. He instantly went up to this gifted being, confessed, and +received absolution. "To-morrow," he said to himself, "I will partake +of the communion, and endow the Church with my vast estates. For the +present I'll let the improved cottages go." + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +As Lothaw turned to leave the Cardinal, he was struck by a beautiful +face. It was that of a matron, slim but shapely as an Ionic column. +Her face was Grecian, with Corinthian temples; Hellenic eyes that +looked from jutting eyebrows, like dormer-windows in an Attic forehead, +completed her perfect Athenian outline. She wore a black frock-coat +tightly buttoned over her bloomer trousers, and a standing collar. + +"Your Lordship is struck by that face," said a social parasite. + +"I am; who is she?" + +"Her name is Mary Ann. She is married to an American, and has lately +invented a new religion." + +"Ah!" said Lothaw eagerly, with difficulty restraining himself from +rushing toward her. + +"Yes; shall I introduce you?" + +Lothaw thought of Lady Coriander's High Church proclivities, of the +Cardinal, and hesitated: "No, I thank you, not now." + + + +CHAPTER V. + +Lothaw was maturing. He had attended two woman's rights conventions, +three Fenian meetings, had dined at White's, and had danced vis-a-vis +to a prince of the blood, and eaten off of gold plates at Crecy House. + +His stables were near Oxford, and occupied more ground than the +University. He was driving over there one day, when he perceived some +rustics and menials endeavoring to stop a pair of runaway horses +attached to a carriage in which a lady and gentleman were seated. +Calmly awaiting the termination of the accident, with high-bred +courtesy Lothaw forbore to interfere until the carriage was overturned, +the occupants thrown out, and the runaways secured by the servants, +when he advanced and offered the lady the exclusive use of his Oxford +stables. + +Turning upon him a face whose perfect Hellenic details he remembered, +she slowly dragged a gentleman from under the wheels into the light and +presented him with ladylike dignity as her husband, Major-General +Camperdown, an American. + +"Ah," said Lothaw, carelessly, "I believe I have some land there. If I +mistake not, my agent, Mr. Putney Giles, lately purchased the State +of--Illinois--I think you call it." + +"Exactly. As a former resident of the city of Chicago, let me +introduce myself as your tenant." + +Lothaw bowed graciously to the gentleman, who, except that he seemed +better dressed than most Englishmen, showed no other signs of +inferiority and plebeian extraction. + +"We have met before," said Lothaw to the lady as she leaned on his arm, +while they visited his stables, the University, and other places of +interest in Oxford. "Pray tell me, what is this new religion of yours?" + +"It is Woman Suffrage, Free Love, Mutual Affinity, and Communism. +Embrace it and me." + +Lothaw did not know exactly what to do. She however soothed and +sustained his agitated frame and sealed with an embrace his speechless +form. The General approached and coughed slightly with gentlemanly +tact. + +"My husband will be too happy to talk with you further on this +subject," she said with quiet dignity, as she regained the General's +side. "Come with us to Oneida. Brook Farm is a thing of the past." + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +As Lothaw drove toward his country-seat, "The Mural Enclosure," he +observed a crowd, apparently of the working class, gathered around a +singular-looking man in the picturesque garb of an Ethiopian serenader. +"What does he say?" inquired Lothaw of his driver. + +The man touched his hat respectfully and said, "My Mary Ann." + +"'My Mary Ann!'" Lothaw's heart beat rapidly. Who was this mysterious +foreigner? He had heard from Lady Coriander of a certain Popish plot; +but could he connect Mr. Camperdown with it? + +The spectacle of two hundred men at arms who advanced to meet him at +the gates of The Mural Enclosure drove all else from the still youthful +and impressible mind of Lothaw. Immediately behind them, on the steps +of the baronial halls, were ranged his retainers, led by the chief cook +and bottle-washer, and head crumb-remover. On either side were two +companies of laundry-maids, preceded by the chief crimper and fluter, +supporting a long Ancestral Line, on which depended the family linen, +and under which the youthful lord of the manor passed into the halls of +his fathers. Twenty-four scullions carried the massive gold and silver +plate of the family on their shoulders, and deposited it at the feet of +their master. The spoons were then solemnly counted by the steward, and +the perfect ceremony ended. + +Lothaw sighed. He sought out the gorgeously gilded "Taj," or sacred +mausoleum erected to his grandfather in the second story front room, +and wept over the man he did not know. He wandered alone in his +magnificent park, and then, throwing himself on a grassy bank, pondered +on the Great First Cause, and the necessity of religion. "I will send +Mary Ann a handsome present," said Lothaw, thoughtfully. + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +"Each of these pearls, my Lord, is worth fifty thousand guineas," said +Mr. Amethyst, the fashionable jeweler, as he lightly lifted a large +shovelful from a convenient bin behind his counter. + +"Indeed," said Lothaw, carelessly, "I should prefer to see some +expensive ones. + +"Some number sixes, I suppose," said Mr. Amethyst, taking a couple from +the apex of a small pyramid that lay piled on the shelf. "These are +about the size of the Duchess of Billingsgate's, but they are in finer +condition. The fact is, her Grace permits her two children, the +Marquis of Smithfield and the Duke of St. Giles,--two sweet pretty +boys, my Lord,--to use them as marbles in their games. Pearls require +some attention, and I go down there regularly twice a week to clean +them. Perhaps your Lordship would like some ropes of pearls?" + +"About half a cable's length," said Lothaw, shortly, "and send them to +my lodgings." + +Mr. Amethyst became thoughtful. "I am afraid I have not the exact +number--that is--excuse me one moment. I will run over to the Tower +and borrow a few from the crown jewels." And before Lothaw could +prevent him, he seized his hat and left Lothaw alone. + +His position certainly was embarrassing. He could not move without +stepping on costly gems which had rolled from the counter; the rarest +diamonds lay scattered on the shelves; untold fortunes in priceless +emeralds lay within his grasp. Although such was the aristocratic +purity of his blood and the strength of his religious convictions that +he probably would not have pocketed a single diamond, still he could +not help thinking that he might be accused of taking some. "You can +search me, if you like," he said when Mr. Amethyst returned; "but I +assure you, upon the honor of a gentleman, that I have taken nothing." + +"Enough, my Lord," said Mr. Amethyst, with a low bow; "we never search +the aristocracy." + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +As Lothaw left Mr. Amethyst's, he ran against General Camperdown. "How +is Mary Ann?" he asked hurriedly. + +"I regret to state that she is dying," said the general, with a grave +voice, as he removed his cigar from his lips, and lifted his hat to +Lothaw. + +"Dying!" said Lothaw, incredulously. + +"Alas, too true!" replied the General. "The engagements of a long +lecturing season, exposure in travelling by railway during the winter, +and the imperfect nourishment afforded by the refreshments along the +road, have told on her delicate frame. But she wants to see you before +she dies. Here is the key of my lodging. I will finish my cigar out +here." + +Lothaw hardly recognized those wasted Hellenic outlines as he entered +the dimly lighted room of the dying woman. She was already a classic +ruin,--as wrecked and yet as perfect as the Parthenon. He grasped her +hand silently. + +"Open-air speaking twice a week, and saleratus bread in the rural +districts, have brought me to this," she said feebly; "but it is well. +The cause progresses. The tyrant man succumbs." + +Lothaw could only press her hand. + +"Promise me one thing. Don't--whatever you do--become a Catholic." + +"Why?" + +"The Church does not recognize divorce. And now embrace me. I would +prefer at this supreme moment to introduce myself to the next world +through the medium of the best society in this. Good by. When I am +dead, be good enough to inform my husband of the fact." + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +Lothaw spent the next six months on an Aryan island, in an Aryan +climate, and with an Aryan race. + +"This is an Aryan landscape," said his host, "and that is a Mary Ann +statue." It was, in fact, a full-length figure in marble of Mrs. +General Camperdown! + +"If you please, I should like to become a Pagan," said Lothaw, one day, +after listening to an impassioned discourse on Greek art from the lips +of his host. + +But that night, on consulting a well-known spiritual medium, Lothaw +received a message from the late Mrs. General Camperdown, advising him +to return to England. Two days later he presented himself at Plusham. + +"The young ladies are in the garden," said the Duchess. "Don't you +want to go and pick a rose?" she added with a gracious smile, and the +nearest approach to a wink that was consistent with her patrician +bearing and aquiline nose. + +Lothaw went and presently returned with the blushing Coriander upon his +arm. + +"Bless you, my children," said the Duchess. Then, turning to Lothaw, +she said: "You have simply fulfilled and accepted your inevitable +destiny. It was morally impossible for you to marry out of this +family. For the present, the Church of England is safe." + + + + +MUCK-A-MUCK. + +A MODERN INDIAN NOVEL. + +AFTER COOPER. + + + +CHAPTER I. + +It was toward the close of a bright October day. The last rays of the +setting sun were reflected from one of those sylvan lakes peculiar to +the Sierras of California. On the right the curling smoke of an Indian +village rose between the columns of the lofty pines, while to the left +the log cottage of Judge Tompkins, embowered in buckeyes, completed the +enchanting picture. + +Although the exterior of the cottage was humble and unpretentious, and +in keeping with the wildness of the landscape, its interior gave +evidence of the cultivation and refinement of its inmates. An +aquarium, containing goldfishes, stood on a marble centre-table at one +end of the apartment, while a magnificent grand piano occupied the +other. The floor was covered with a yielding tapestry carpet, and the +walls were adorned with paintings from the pencils of Van Dyke, Rubens, +Tintoretto, Michael Angelo, and the productions of the more modern +Turner, Kensett, Church, and Bierstadt. Although Judge Tompkins had +chosen the frontiers of civilization as his home, it was impossible for +him to entirely forego the habits and tastes of his former life. He +was seated in a luxurious arm-chair, writing at a mahogany ecritoire, +while his daughter, a lovely young girl of seventeen summers, plied her +crochet-needle on an ottoman beside him. A bright fire of pine logs +flickered and flamed on the ample hearth. + +Genevra Octavia Tompkins was Judge Tompkins's only child. Her mother +had long since died on the Plains. Reared in affluence, no pains had +been spared with the daughter's education. She was a graduate of one +of the principal seminaries, and spoke French with a perfect Benicia +accent. Peerlessly beautiful, she was dressed in a white moire antique +robe trimmed with tulle. That simple rosebud with which most heroines +exclusively decorate their hair, was all she wore in her raven locks. + +The Judge was the first to break the silence. + +"Genevra, the logs which compose yonder fire seem to have been +incautiously chosen. The sibilation produced by the sap, which exudes +copiously therefrom, is not conducive to composition." + +"True, father, but I thought it would be preferable to the constant +crepitation which is apt to attend the combustion of more seasoned +ligneous fragments." + +The Judge looked admiringly at the intellectual features of the +graceful girl, and half forgot the slight annoyances of the green wood +in the musical accents of his daughter. He was smoothing her hair +tenderly, when the shadow of a tall figure, which suddenly darkened the +doorway, caused him to look up. + + + +CHAPTER II. + +It needed but a glance at the new-comer to detect at once the form and +features of the haughty aborigine,--the untaught and untrammelled son +of the forest. Over one shoulder a blanket, negligently but gracefully +thrown, disclosed a bare and powerful breast, decorated with a quantity +of three-cent postage-stamps which he had despoiled from an Overland +Mail stage a few weeks previous. A cast-off beaver of Judge +Tompkins's, adorned by a simple feather, covered his erect head, from +beneath which his straight locks descended. His right hand hung +lightly by his side, while his left was engaged in holding on a pair of +pantaloons, which the lawless grace and freedom of his lower limbs +evidently could not brook. + +"Why," said the Indian, in a low sweet tone,--"why does the Pale Face +still follow the track of the Red Man? Why does he pursue him, even as +O-kee-chow, the wild-cat, chases Ka-ka, the skunk? Why are the feet of +Sorrel-top, the white chief, among the acorns of Muck-a-muck, the +mountain forest? Why," he repeated, quietly but firmly abstracting a +silver spoon from the table,--"why do you seek to drive him from the +wigwams of his fathers? His brothers are already gone to the happy +hunting-grounds. Will the Pale Face seek him there?" And, averting +his face from the Judge, he hastily slipped a silver cake-basket +beneath his blanket, to conceal his emotion. + +"Muck-a-Muck has spoken," said Genevra, softly. "Let him now listen. +Are the acorns of the mountain sweeter than the esculent and nutritious +bean of the Pale Face miner? Does my brother prize the edible +qualities of the snail above that of the crisp and oleaginous bacon? +Delicious are the grasshoppers that sport on the hillside,--are they +better than the dried apples of the Pale Faces? Pleasant is the gurgle +of the torrent, Kish-Kish, but is it better than the cluck-cluck of old +Bourbon from the old stone bottle?" + +"Ugh!" said the Indian,--"ugh! good. The White Rabbit is wise. Her +words fall as the snow on Tootoonolo, and the rocky heart of +Muck-a-Muck is hidden. What says my brother the Gray Gopher of Dutch +Flat?" + +"She has spoken, Muck-a-Muck," said the Judge, gazing fondly on his +daughter. "It is well. Our treaty is concluded. No, thank you,--you +need NOT dance the Dance of Snow Shoes, or the Moccasin Dance, the +Dance of Green Corn, or the Treaty Dance. I would be alone. A strange +sadness overpowers me." + +"I go," said the Indian. "Tell your great chief in Washington, the +Sachem Andy, that the Red Man is retiring before the footsteps of the +adventurous Pioneer. Inform him, if you please, that westward the star +of empire takes its way, that the chiefs of the Pi-Ute nation are for +Reconstruction to a man, and that Klamath will poll a heavy Republican +vote in the fall." + +And folding his blanket more tightly around him, Muck-a-Muck withdrew. + + + +CHAPTER III. + +Genevra Tompkins stood at the door of the log-cabin, looking after the +retreating Overland Mail stage which conveyed her father to Virginia +City. "He may never return again," sighed the young girl as she +glanced at the frightfully rolling vehicle and wildly careering +horses,--"at least, with unbroken bones. Should he meet with an +accident! I mind me now a fearful legend, familiar to my childhood. +Can it be that the drivers on this line are privately instructed to +despatch all passengers maimed by accident, to prevent tedious +litigation? No, no. But why this weight upon my heart?" + +She seated herself at the piano and lightly passed her hand over the +keys. Then, in a clear mezzo-soprano voice, she sang the first verse +of one of the most popular Irish ballads:-- + + + "O Arrah, ma dheelish, the distant dudheen + Lies soft in the moonlight, ma bouchal vourneen: + The springing gossoons on the heather are still, + And the caubeens and colleens are heard on the hills." + + +But as the ravishing notes of her sweet voice died upon the air, her +hands sank listlessly to her side. Music could not chase away the +mysterious shadow from her heart. Again she rose. Putting on a white +crape bonnet, and carefully drawing a pair of lemon-colored gloves over +her taper fingers, she seized her parasol and plunged into the depths +of the pine forest. + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +Genevra had not proceeded many miles before a weariness seized upon her +fragile limbs, and she would fain seat herself upon the trunk of a +prostrate pine, which she previously dusted with her handkerchief. The +sun was just sinking below the horizon, and the scene was one of +gorgeous and sylvan beauty. "How beautiful is Nature!" murmured the +innocent girl, as, reclining gracefully against the root of the tree, +she gathered up her skirts and tied a handkerchief around her throat. +But a low growl interrupted her meditation. Starting to her feet, her +eyes met a sight which froze her blood with terror. + +The only outlet to the forest was the narrow path, barely wide enough +for a single person, hemmed in by trees and rocks, which she had just +traversed. Down this path, in Indian file, came a monstrous grizzly, +closely followed by a California lion, a wild-cat, and a buffalo, the +rear being brought up by a wild Spanish bull. The mouths of the three +first animals were distended with frightful significance; the horns of +the last were lowered as ominously. As Genevra was preparing to faint, +she heard a low voice behind her. + +"Eternally dog-gone my skin ef this ain't the puttiest chance yet." + +At the same moment, a long, shining barrel dropped lightly from behind +her, and rested over her shoulder. + +Genevra shuddered. + +"Dern ye--don't move!" + +Genevra became motionless. + +The crack of a rifle rang through the woods. Three frightful yells +were heard, and two sullen roars. Five animals bounded into the air +and five lifeless bodies lay upon the plain. The well-aimed bullet had +done its work. Entering the open throat of the grizzly, it had +traversed his body only to enter the throat of the California lion, and +in like manner the catamount, until it passed through into the +respective foreheads of the bull and the buffalo, and finally fell +flattened from the rocky hillside. + +Genevra turned quickly. "My preserver!" she shrieked, and fell into +the arms of Natty Bumpo, the celebrated Pike Ranger of Donner Lake. + + + +CHAPTER V. + +The moon rose cheerfully above Donner Lake. On its placid bosom a +dug-out canoe glided rapidly, containing Natty Bumpo and Genevra +Tompkins. + +Both were silent. The same thought possessed each, and perhaps there +was sweet companionship even in the unbroken quiet. Genevra bit the +handle of her parasol and blushed. Natty Bumpo took a fresh chew of +tobacco. At length Genevra said, as if in half-spoken revery:-- + +"The soft shining of the moon and the peaceful ripple of the waves seem +to say to us various things of an instructive and moral tendency." + +"You may bet yer pile on that, Miss," said her companion, gravely. +"It's all the preachin' and psalm-singin' I've heern since I was a boy." + +"Noble being!" said Miss Tompkins to herself, glancing at the stately +Pike as he bent over his paddle to conceal his emotion. "Reared in this +wild seclusion, yet he has become penetrated with visible consciousness +of a Great First Cause." Then, collecting herself, she said aloud: +"Methinks 'twere pleasant to glide ever thus down the stream of life, +hand in hand with the one being whom the soul claims as its affinity. +But what am I saying?"--and the delicate-minded girl hid her face in +her hands. + +A long silence ensued, which was at length broken by her companion. + +"Ef you mean you're on the marry," he said, thoughtfully, "I ain't in +no wise partikler!" + +"My husband," faltered the blushing girl; and she fell into his arms. + +In ten minutes more the loving couple had landed at Judge Tompkins's. + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +A year has passed away. Natty Bumpo was returning from Gold Hill, +where he had been to purchase provisions. On his way to Donner Lake, +rumors of an Indian uprising met his ears. "Dern their pesky skins, ef +they dare to touch my Jenny," he muttered between his clenched teeth. + +It was dark when he reached the borders of the lake. Around a +glittering fire he dimly discerned dusky figures dancing. They were in +war paint. Conspicuous among them was the renowned Muck-a-Muck. But +why did the fingers of Natty Bumpo tighten convulsively around his +rifle? + +The chief held in his hand long tufts of raven hair. The heart of the +pioneer sickened as he recognized the clustering curls of Genevra. In +a moment his rifle was at his shoulder, and with a sharp "ping," +Muck-a-Muck leaped into the air a corpse. To knock out the brains of +the remaining savages, tear the tresses from the stiffening hand of +Muck-a-Muck, and dash rapidly forward to the cottage of Judge Tompkins, +was the work of a moment. + +He burst open the door. Why did he stand transfixed with open mouth +and distended eyeballs? Was the sight too horrible to be borne? On +the contrary, before him, in her peerless beauty, stood Genevra +Tompkins, leaning on her father's arm. + +"Ye'r not scalped, then!" gasped her lover. + +"No. I have no hesitation in saying that I am not; but why this +abruptness?" responded Genevra. + +Bumpo could not speak, but frantically produced the silken tresses. +Genevra turned her face aside. + +"Why, that's her waterfall!" said the Judge. + +Bumpo sank fainting to the floor. + +The famous Pike chieftain never recovered from the deceit, and refused +to marry Genevra, who died, twenty years afterwards, of a broken heart. +Judge Tompkins lost his fortune in Wild Cat. The stage passes twice a +week the deserted cottage at Donner Lake. Thus was the death of +Muck-a-Muck avenged. + + + + +TERENCE DENVILLE. + +BY CH--L--S L--V--R. + + + +CHAPTER I. + +MY HOME. + +The little village of Pilwiddle is one of the smallest and obscurest +hamlets on the western coast of Ireland. On a lofty crag, overlooking +the hoarse Atlantic, stands "Denville's Shot Tower"--a corruption by +the peasantry of D'Enville's Chateau, so called from my +great-grandfather, Phelim St. Kemy d'Enville, who assumed the name and +title of a French heiress with whom he ran away. To this fact my +familiar knowledge and excellent pronunciation of the French language +may be attributed, as well as many of the events which covered my after +life. + +The Denvilles were always passionately fond of field sports. At the +age of four, I was already the boldest rider and the best shot in the +country. When only eight, I won the St. Remy Cup at the Pilwiddle +races,--riding my favorite bloodmare Hellfire. As I approached the +stand amidst the plaudits of the assembled multitude, and cries of, +"Thrue for ye, Masther Terence," and "O, but it's a Dinville!" there +was a slight stir among the gentry, who surrounded the Lord Lieutenant, +and other titled personages whom the race had attracted thither. "How +young he is,--a mere child; and yet how noble-looking," said a sweet +low voice, which thrilled my soul. + +I looked up and met the full liquid orbs of the Hon. Blanche Fitzroy +Sackville, youngest daughter of the Lord Lieutenant. She blushed +deeply. I turned pale and almost fainted. But the cold, sneering +tones of a masculine voice sent the blood back again into my youthful +cheek. + +"Very likely the ragged scion of one of these banditti Irish gentry, +who has taken naturally to 'the road.' He should be at school--though +I warrant me his knowledge of Terence will not extend beyond his own +name," said Lord Henry Somerset, aid-de-camp to the Lord Lieutenant. + +A moment and I was perfectly calm, though cold as ice. Dismounting, and +stepping to the side of the speaker, I said in a low, firm voice:-- + +"Had your Lordship read Terence more carefully, you would have learned +that banditti are sometimes proficient in other arts beside +horsemanship," and I touched his holster significantly with my hand. I +had not read Terence myself, but with the skilful audacity of my race I +calculated that a vague allusion, coupled with a threat, would +embarrass him. It did. + +"Ah--what mean you?" he said, white with rage. + +"Enough, we are observed," I replied; "Father Tom will wait on you this +evening; and to-morrow morning, my lord, in the glen below Pilwiddle we +will meet again." + +"Father Tom--glen!" ejaculated the Englishman, with genuine surprise. +"What? do priests carry challenges and act as seconds in your infernal +country?" + +"Yes!" I answered, scornfully, "why should they not? Their services +are more often necessary than those of a surgeon," I added +significantly, turning away. + +The party slowly rode off, with the exception of the Hon. Blanche +Sackville, who lingered for a moment behind. In an instant I was at +her side. Bending her blushing face over the neck of her white filly, +she said hurriedly:-- + +"Words have passed between Lord Somerset and yourself. You are about +to fight. Don't deny it--but hear me. You will meet him--I know your +skill of weapons. He will be at your mercy. I entreat you to spare +his life!" + +I hesitated. "Never!" I cried passionately; "he has insulted a +Denville!" + +"Terence," she whispered, "Terence--FOR MY SAKE?" + +The blood rushed to my cheeks, and her eyes sought the ground in +bashful confusion. + +"You love him then?" I cried, bitterly. + +"No, no," she said, agitatedly, "no, you do me wrong. I--I--cannot +explain myself. My father!--the Lady Dowager Sackville--the estate of +Sackville--the borough--my uncle, Fitzroy Somerset. Ah! what am I +saying? Forgive me. O Terence," she said, as her beautiful head sank +on my shoulder, "you know not what I suffer!" + +I seized her hand and covered it with passionate kisses. But the +high-bred English girl, recovering something of her former hauteur, +said hastily, "Leave me, leave me, but promise!" + +"I promise," I replied, enthusiastically; "I WILL spare his life!" + +"Thanks, Terence,--thanks!" and disengaging her hand from my lips she +rode rapidly away. + +The next morning, the Hon. Captain Henry Somerset and myself exchanged +nineteen shots in the glen, and at each fire I shot away a button from +his uniform. As my last bullet shot off the last button from his +sleeve, I remarked quietly, "You seem now, my lord, to be almost as +ragged as the gentry you sneered at," and rode haughtily away. + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE FIGHTING FIFTY-SIXTH. + +When I was nineteen years old my father sold the Chateau d'Enville and +purchased my commission in the "Fifty-sixth" with the proceeds. "I say, +Denville," said young McSpadden, a boy-faced ensign, who had just +joined, "you'll represent the estate in the Army, if you won't in the +House." Poor fellow, he paid for his meaningless joke with his life, +for I shot him through the heart the next morning. "You're a good +fellow, Denville," said the poor boy faintly, as I knelt beside him: +"good by!" For the first time since my grandfather's death I wept. I +could not help thinking that I would have been a better man if +Blanche--but why proceed? Was she not now in Florence--the belle of +the English Embassy? + +But Napoleon had returned from Elba. Europe was in a blaze of +excitement. The Allies were preparing to resist the Man of Destiny. +We were ordered from Gibraltar home, and were soon again en route for +Brussels. I did not regret that I was to be placed in active service. +I was ambitious, and longed for an opportunity to distinguish myself. +My garrison life in Gibraltar had been monotonous and dull. I had +killed five men in duel, and had an affair with the colonel of my +regiment, who handsomely apologized before the matter assumed a serious +aspect. I had been twice in love. Yet these were but boyish freaks +and follies. I wished to be a man. + +The time soon came,--the morning of Waterloo. But why describe that +momentous battle, on which the fate of the entire world was hanging? +Twice were the Fifty-sixth surrounded by French cuirassiers, and twice +did we mow them down by our fire. I had seven horses shot under me, +and was mounting the eighth, when an orderly rode up hastily, touched +his cap, and, handing me a despatch, galloped rapidly away. + +I opened it hurriedly and read:-- + +"LET PICTON ADVANCE IMMEDIATELY ON THE RIGHT." + +I saw it all at a glance. I had been mistaken for a general officer. +But what was to be done? Picton's division was two miles away, only +accessible through a heavy cross fire of artillery and musketry. But +my mind was made up. + +In an instant I was engaged with an entire squadron of cavalry, who +endeavored to surround me. Cutting my way through them, I advanced +boldly upon a battery and sabred the gunners before they could bring +their pieces to bear. Looking around, I saw that I had in fact +penetrated the French centre. Before I was well aware of the locality, +I was hailed by a sharp voice in French,-- + +"Come here, sir!" + +I obeyed, and advanced to the side of a little man in a cocked hat. + +"Has Grouchy come?" + +"Not yet, sire," I replied,--for it was the Emperor. + +"Ha!" he said suddenly, bending his piercing eyes on my uniform; "a +prisoner?" + +"No, sire," I said, proudly. + +"A spy?" + +I placed my hand upon my sword, but a gesture from the Emperor bade me +forbear. + +"You are a brave man," he said. + +I took my snuff-box from my pocket, and, taking a pinch, replied by +handing it, with a bow, to the Emperor. + +His quick eye caught the cipher on the lid. "What! a D'Enville? Ha! +this accounts for the purity of your accent. Any relation to Roderick +d'Enville?" + +"My father, sire." + +"He was my school-fellow at the Ecole Polytechnique. Embrace me!" And +the Emperor fell upon my neck in the presence of his entire staff. +Then, recovering himself, he gently placed in my hand his own +magnificent snuff-box, in exchange for mine, and hanging upon my breast +the cross of the Legion of Honor which he took from his own, he bade +one of his Marshals conduct me back to my regiment. + +I was so intoxicated with the honor of which I had been the recipient, +that on reaching our lines I uttered a shout of joy and put spurs to my +horse. The intelligent animal seemed to sympathize with my feelings, +and fairly flew over the ground. On a rising eminence a few yards +before me stood a gray-haired officer, surrounded by his staff. I +don't know what possessed me, but putting spurs to my horse, I rode at +him boldly, and with one bound cleared him, horse and all. A shout of +indignation arose from the assembled staff. I wheeled suddenly, with +the intention of apologizing, but my mare misunderstood me, and, again +dashing forward, once more vaulted over the head of the officer, this +time unfortunately uncovering him by a vicious kick of her hoof. +"Seize him!" roared the entire army. I was seized. As the soldiers +led me away, I asked the name of the gray-haired officer. "That--why, +that's the DUKE OF WELLINGTON!" + +I fainted. + + * * * * * + +For six months I had brain-fever. During my illness ten grapeshot were +extracted from my body which I had unconsciously received during the +battle. When I opened my eyes I met the sweet glance of a Sister of +Charity. + +"Blanche!" I stammered feebly. + +"The same," she replied. + +"You here?" + +"Yes, dear; but hush! It's a long story. You see, dear Terence, your +grandfather married my great-aunt's sister, and your father again +married my grandmother's niece, who, dying without a will, was, +according to the French law--" + +"But I do not comprehend," I said. + +"Of course not," said Blanche, with her old sweet smile; "you've had +brain-fever; so go to sleep." + +I understood, however, that Blanche loved me; and I am now, dear +reader, Sir Terence Sackville, K. C. B., and Lady Blanche is Lady +Sackville. + + + + +SELINA SEDILIA. + +BY MISS M. E. B--DD--N AND MRS. H--N--Y W--D. + + + +CHAPTER I. + +The sun was setting over Sloperton Grange, and reddened the window of +the lonely chamber in the western tower, supposed to be haunted by Sir +Edward Sedilia, the founder of the Grange. In the dreamy distance +arose the gilded mausoleum of Lady Felicia Sedilia, who haunted that +portion of Sedilia Manor, known as "Stiff-uns Acre." A little to the +left of the Grange might have been seen a mouldering ruin, known as +"Guy's Keep," haunted by the spirit of Sir Guy Sedilia, who was found, +one morning, crushed by one of the fallen battlements. Yet, as the +setting sun gilded these objects, a beautiful and almost holy calm +seemed diffused about the Grange. + +The Lady Selina sat by an oriel window, overlooking the park. The sun +sank gently in the bosom of the German Ocean, and yet the lady did not +lift her beautiful head from the finely curved arm and diminutive hand +which supported it. When darkness finally shrouded the landscape she +started, for the sound of horse-hoofs clattered over the stones of the +avenue. She had scarcely risen before an aristocratic young man fell +on his knees before her. + +"My Selina!" + +"Edgardo! You here?" + +"Yes, dearest." + +"And--you--you--have--seen nothing?" said the lady in an agitated voice +and nervous manner, turning her face aside to conceal her emotion. + +"Nothing--that is nothing of any account," said Edgardo. "I passed the +ghost of your aunt in the park, noticed the spectre of your uncle in +the ruined keep, and observed the familiar features of the spirit of +your great-grandfather at his usual post. But nothing beyond these +trifles, my Selina. Nothing more, love, absolutely nothing." + +The young man turned his dark liquid orbs fondly upon the ingenuous +face of his betrothed. + +"My own Edgardo!--and you still love me? You still would marry me in +spite of this dark mystery which surrounds me? In spite of the fatal +history of my race? In spite of the ominous predictions of my aged +nurse?" + +"I would, Selina"; and the young man passed his arm around her yielding +waist. The two lovers gazed at each other's faces in unspeakable +bliss. Suddenly Selina started. + +"Leave me, Edgardo! leave me! A mysterious something--a fatal +misgiving--a dark ambiguity--an equivocal mistrust oppresses me. I +would be alone!" + +The young man arose, and cast a loving glance on the lady. "Then we +will be married on the seventeenth." + +"The seventeenth," repeated Selina, with a mysterious shudder. + +They embraced and parted. As the clatter of hoofs in the court-yard +died away, the Lady Selina sank into the chair she had just quitted. + +"The seventeenth," she repeated slowly, with the same fateful shudder. +"Ah!--what if he should know that I have another husband living? Dare +I reveal to him that I have two legitimate and three natural children? +Dare I repeat to him the history of my youth? Dare I confess that at +the age of seven I poisoned my sister, by putting verdigris in her +cream-tarts,--that I threw my cousin from a swing at the age of twelve? +That the lady's-maid who incurred the displeasure of my girlhood now +lies at the bottom of the horse-pond? No! no! he is too pure,--too +good,--too innocent, to hear such improper conversation!" and her whole +body writhed as she rocked to and fro in a paroxysm of grief. + +But she was soon calm. Rising to her feet, she opened a secret panel +in the wall, and revealed a slow-match ready for lighting. + +"This match," said the Lady Selina, "is connected with a mine beneath +the western tower, where my three children are confined; another branch +of it lies under the parish church, where the record of my first +marriage is kept. I have only to light this match and the whole of my +past life is swept away!" she approached the match with a lighted +candle. + +But a hand was laid upon her arm, and with a shriek the Lady Selina +fell on her knees before the spectre of Sir Guy. + + + +CHAPTER II. + +"Forbear, Selina," said the phantom in a hollow voice. + +"Why should I forbear?" responded Selina haughtily, as she recovered +her courage. "You know the secret of our race?" + +"I do. Understand me,--I do not object to the eccentricities of your +youth. I know the fearful destiny which, pursuing you, led you to +poison your sister and drown your lady's-maid. I know the awful doom +which I have brought upon this house! But if you make way with these +children--" + +"Well," said the Lady Selina, hastily. + +"They will haunt you!" + +"Well, I fear them not," said Selina, drawing her superb figure to its +full height. + +"Yes, but, my dear child, what place are they to haunt? The ruin is +sacred to your uncle's spirit. Your aunt monopolizes the park, and, I +must be allowed to state, not unfrequently trespasses upon the grounds +of others. The horse-pond is frequented by the spirit of your maid, +and your murdered sister walks these corridors. To be plain, there is +no room at Sloperton Grange for another ghost. I cannot have them in my +room,--for you know I don't like children. Think of this, rash girl, +and forbear! Would you, Selina," said the phantom, mournfully,--"would +you force your great-grandfather's spirit to take lodgings elsewhere?" + +Lady Selina's hand trembled; the lighted candle fell from her nerveless +fingers. + +"No," she cried passionately; "never!" and fell fainting to the floor. + + + +CHAPTER III + +Edgardo galloped rapidly towards Sloperton. When the outline of the +Grange had faded away in the darkness, he reined his magnificent steed +beside the ruins of Guy's Keep. + +"It wants but a few minutes of the hour," he said, consulting his watch +by the light of the moon. "He dare not break his word. He will come." +He paused, and peered anxiously into the darkness. "But come what may, +she is mine," he continued, as his thoughts reverted fondly to the fair +lady he had quitted. "Yet if she knew all. If she knew that I were a +disgraced and ruined man,--a felon and an outcast. If she knew that at +the age of fourteen I murdered my Latin tutor and forged my uncle's +will. If she knew that I had three wives already, and that the fourth +victim of misplaced confidence and my unfortunate peculiarity is +expected to be at Sloperton by to-night's train with her baby. But no; +she must not know it. Constance must not arrive. Burke the Slogger +must attend to that. + +"Ha! here he is! Well?" + +These words were addressed to a ruffian in a slouched hat, who suddenly +appeared from Guy's Keep. + +"I be's here, measter," said the villain, with a disgracefully low +accent and complete disregard of grammatical rules. + +"It is well. Listen: I'm in possession of facts that will send you to +the gallows. I know of the murder of Bill Smithers, the robbery of the +tollgate-keeper, and the making away of the youngest daughter of Sir +Reginald de Walton. A word from me, and the officers of justice are on +your track." + +Burke the Slogger trembled. + +"Hark ye! serve my purpose, and I may yet save you. The 5.30 train +from Clapham will be due at Sloperton at 9.25. IT MUST NOT ARRIVE!" + +The villain's eyes sparkled as he nodded at Edgardo. + +"Enough,--you understand; leave me!" + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +About half a mile from Sloperton Station the South Clapham and Medway +line crossed a bridge over Sloperton-on-Trent. As the shades of +evening were closing, a man in a slouched hat might have been seen +carrying a saw and axe under his arm, hanging about the bridge. From +time to time he disappeared in the shadow of its abutments, but the +sound of a saw and axe still betrayed his vicinity. At exactly nine +o'clock he reappeared, and, crossing to the Sloperton side, rested his +shoulder against the abutment and gave a shove. The bridge swayed a +moment, and then fell with a splash into the water, leaving a space of +one hundred feet between the two banks. This done, Burke the +Slogger,--for it was he,--with a fiendish chuckle seated himself on the +divided railway track and awaited the coming of the train. + +A shriek from the woods announced its approach. For an instant Burke +the Slogger saw the glaring of a red lamp. The ground trembled. The +train was going with fearful rapidity. Another second and it had +reached the bank. Burke the Slogger uttered a fiendish laugh. But the +next moment the train leaped across the chasm, striking the rails +exactly even, and, dashing out the life of Burke the Slogger, sped away +to Sloperton. + +The first object that greeted Edgardo, as he rode up to the station on +the arrival of the train, was the body of Burke the Slogger hanging on +the cow-catcher; the second was the face of his deserted wife looking +from the windows of a second-class carriage. + + + +CHAPTER V. + +A nameless terror seemed to have taken possession of Clarissa, Lady +Selina's maid, as she rushed into the presence of her mistress. + +"O my lady, such news!" + +"Explain yourself," said her mistress, rising. + +"An accident has happened on the railway, and a man has been killed." + +"What--not Edgardo!" almost screamed Selina. + +"No, Burke the Slogger!" your ladyship. + +"My first husband!" said Lady Selina, sinking on her knees. "Just +Heaven, I thank thee!" + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +The morning of the seventeenth dawned brightly over Sloperton. "A fine +day for the wedding," said the sexton to Swipes, the butler of +Sloperton Grange. The aged retainer shook his head sadly. "Alas! +there's no trusting in signs!" he continued. "Seventy-five years ago, +on a day like this, my young mistress--" But he was cut short by the +appearance of a stranger. + +"I would see Sir Edgardo," said the new-comer, impatiently. + +The bridegroom, who, with the rest of the wedding-train, was about +stepping into the carriage to proceed to the parish church, drew the +stranger aside. + +"It's done!" said the stranger, in a hoarse whisper. + +"Ah! and you buried her?" + +"With the others!" + +"Enough. No more at present. Meet me after the ceremony, and you +shall have your reward." + +The stranger shuffled away, and Edgardo returned to his bride. "A +trifling matter of business I had forgotten, my dear Selina; let us +proceed." And the young man pressed the timid hand of his blushing +bride as he handed her into the carriage. The cavalcade rode out of +the court-yard. At the same moment, the deep bell on Guy's Keep tolled +ominously. + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +Scarcely had the wedding-train left the Grange, than Alice Sedilia, +youngest daughter of Lady Selina, made her escape from the western +tower, owing to a lack of watchfulness on the part of Clarissa. The +innocent child, freed from restraint, rambled through the lonely +corridors, and finally, opening a door, found herself in her mother's +boudoir. For some time she amused herself by examining the various +ornaments and elegant trifles with which it was filled. Then, in +pursuance of a childish freak, she dressed herself in her mother's +laces and ribbons. In this occupation she chanced to touch a peg which +proved to be a spring that opened a secret panel in the wall. Alice +uttered a cry of delight as she noticed what, to her childish fancy, +appeared to be the slow-match of a fire-work. Taking a lucifer match in +her hand she approached the fuse. She hesitated a moment. What would +her mother and her nurse say? + +Suddenly the ringing of the chimes of Sloperton parish church met her +ear. Alice knew that the sound signified that the marriage party had +entered the church, and that she was secure from interruption. With a +childish smile upon her lips, Alice Sedilia touched off the slow-match. + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +At exactly two o'clock on the seventeenth, Rupert Sedilia, who had just +returned from India, was thoughtfully descending the hill toward +Sloperton manor. "If I can prove that my aunt Lady Selina was married +before my father died, I can establish my claim to Sloperton Grange," +he uttered, half aloud. He paused, for a sudden trembling of the earth +beneath his feet, and a terrific explosion, as of a park of artillery, +arrested his progress. At the same moment he beheld a dense cloud of +smoke envelop the churchyard of Sloperton, and the western tower of the +Grange seemed to be lifted bodily from its foundation. The air seemed +filled with falling fragments, and two dark objects struck the earth +close at his feet. Rupert picked them up. One seemed to be a heavy +volume bound in brass. + +A cry burst from his lips. + +"The Parish Records." He opened the volume hastily. It contained the +marriage of Lady Selina to "Burke the Slogger." + +The second object proved to be a piece of parchment. He tore it open +with trembling fingers. It was the missing will of Sir James Sedilia! + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +When the bells again rang on the new parish church of Sloperton it was +for the marriage of Sir Rupert Sedilia and his cousin, the only +remaining members of the family. + +Five more ghosts were added to the supernatural population of Sloperton +Grange. Perhaps this was the reason why Sir Rupert sold the property +shortly afterward, and that for many years a dark shadow seemed to hang +over the ruins of Sloperton Grange. + + + + +THE NINETY-NINE GUARDSMEN. + +BY AL--X--D--R D--M--S + + + +CHAPTER I. + +SHOWING THE QUALITY OF THE CUSTOMERS OF THE INNKEEPER OF PROVINS. + +Twenty years after, the gigantic innkeeper of Provins stood looking at +a cloud of dust on the highway. + +This cloud of dust betokened the approach of a traveller. Travellers +had been rare that season on the highway between Paris and Provins. + +The heart of the innkeeper rejoiced. Turning to Dame Perigord, his +wife, he said, stroking his white apron:-- + +"St. Denis! make haste and spread the cloth. Add a bottle of +Charlevoix to the table. This traveller, who rides so fast, by his +pace must be a Monseigneur." + +Truly the traveller, clad in the uniform of a musketeer, as he drew up +to the door of the hostelry, did not seem to have spared his horse. +Throwing his reins to the landlord, he leaped lightly to the ground. +He was a young man of four-and-twenty, and spoke with a slight Gascon +accent. + +"I am hungry, Morbleu! I wish to dine!" + +The gigantic innkeeper bowed and led the way to a neat apartment, where +a table stood covered with tempting viands. The musketeer at once set +to work. Fowls, fish, and pates disappeared before him. Perigord +sighed as he witnessed the devastations. Only once the stranger paused. + +"Wine!" Perigord brought wine. The stranger drank a dozen bottles. +Finally he rose to depart. Turning to the expectant landlord, he +said:-- + +"Charge it." + +"To whom, your highness?" said Perigord, anxiously. + +"To his Eminence!" + +"Mazarin!" ejaculated the innkeeper. + +"The same. Bring me my horse," and the musketeer, remounting his +favorite animal, rode away. + +The innkeeper slowly turned back into the inn. Scarcely had he reached +the courtyard before the clatter of hoofs again called him to the +doorway. A young musketeer of a light and graceful figure rode up. + +"Parbleu, my dear Perigord, I am famishing. What have you got for +dinner?" + +"Venison, capons, larks, and pigeons, your excellency," replied the +obsequious landlord, bowing to the ground. + +"Enough!" The young musketeer dismounted and entered the inn. Seating +himself at the table replenished by the careful Perigord, he speedily +swept it as clean as the first comer. + +"Some wine, my brave Perigord," said the graceful young musketeer, as +soon as he could find utterance. + +Perigord brought three dozen of Charlevoix. The young man emptied them +almost at a draught. + +"By-by, Perigord," he said lightly, waving his hand, as, preceding the +astonished landlord, he slowly withdrew. + +"But, your highness,--the bill," said the astounded Perigord. + +"Ah, the bill. Charge it!" + +"To whom?" + +"The Queen!" + +"What, Madame?" + +"The same. Adieu, my good Perigord." And the graceful stranger rode +away. An interval of quiet succeeded, in which the innkeeper gazed +wofully at his wife. Suddenly he was startled by a clatter of hoofs, +and an aristocratic figure stood in the doorway. + +"Ah," said the courtier good-naturedly. "What, do my eyes deceive me? +No, it is the festive and luxurious Perigord. Perigord, listen. I +famish. I languish. I would dine." + +The innkeeper again covered the table with viands. Again it was swept +clean as the fields of Egypt before the miraculous swarm of locusts. +The stranger looked up. + +"Bring me another fowl, my Perigord." + +"Impossible, your excellency; the larder is stripped clean." + +"Another flitch of bacon, then." + +"Impossible, your highness; there is no more." + +"Well, then, wine!" + +The landlord brought one hundred and forty-four bottles. The courtier +drank them all. + +"One may drink if one cannot eat," said the aristocratic stranger, +good-humoredly. + +The innkeeper shuddered. + +The guest rose to depart. The innkeeper came slowly forward with his +bill, to which he had covertly added the losses which he had suffered +from the previous strangers. + +"Ah, the bill. Charge it." + +"Charge it! to whom?" + +"To the King," said the guest. + +"What! his Majesty?" + +"Certainly. Farewell, Perigord." + +The innkeeper groaned. Then he went out and took down his sign. Then +remarked to his wife:-- + +"I am a plain man, and don't understand politics. It seems, however, +that the country is in a troubled state. Between his Eminence the +Cardinal, his Majesty the King, and her Majesty the Queen, I am a +ruined man." + +"Stay," said Dame Perigord, "I have an idea." + +"And that is--" + +"Become yourself a musketeer." + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE COMBAT. + +On leaving Provins the first musketeer proceeded to Nangis, where he +was reinforced by thirty-three followers. The second musketeer, +arriving at Nangis at the same moment, placed himself at the head of +thirty-three more. The third guest of the landlord of Provins arrived +at Nangis in time to assemble together thirty-three other musketeers. + +The first stranger led the troops of his Eminence. + +The second led the troops of the Queen. + +The third led the troops of the King. + +The fight commenced. It raged terribly for seven hours. The first +musketeer killed thirty of the Queen's troops. The second musketeer +killed thirty of the King's troops. The third musketeer killed thirty +of his Eminence's troops. + +By this time it will be perceived the number of musketeers had been +narrowed down to four on each side. + +Naturally the three principal warriors approached each other. + +They simultaneously uttered a cry. + +"Aramis!" + +"Athos!" + +"D'Artagnan!" + +They fell into each other's arms. + +"And it seems that we are fighting against each other, my children," +said the Count de la Fere, mournfully. + +"How singular!" exclaimed Aramis and D'Artagnan. + +"Let us stop this fratricidal warfare," said Athos. + +"We will!" they exclaimed together. + +"But how to disband our followers?" queried D'Artagnan. + +Aramis winked. They understood each other. "Let us cut 'em down!" + +They cut 'em down. Aramis killed three. D'Artagnan three. Athos +three. + +The friends again embraced. "How like old times," said Aramis. "How +touching!" exclaimed the serious and philosophic Count de la Fere. + +The galloping of hoofs caused them to withdraw from each other's +embraces. A gigantic figure rapidly approached. + +"The innkeeper of Provins!" they cried, drawing their swords. + +"Perigord, down with him!" shouted D'Artagnan. + +"Stay," said Athos. + +The gigantic figure was beside them. He uttered a cry. + +"Athos, Aramis, D'Artagnan!" + +"Porthos!" exclaimed the astonished trio. + +"The same." They all fell in each other's arms. + +The Count de la Fere slowly raised his hands to Heaven. "Bless you! +Bless us, my children! However different our opinion may be in regard +to politics, we have but one opinion in regard to our own merits. +Where can you find a better man than Aramus?" + +"Than Porthos?" said Aramis. + +"Than D'Artagnan?" said Porthos. + +"Than Athos?" said D'Artagnan. + + + +CHAPTER III. + +SHOWING HOW THE KING OF FRANCE WENT UP A LADDER. + +The King descended into the garden. Proceeding cautiously along the +terraced walk, he came to the wall immediately below the windows of +Madame. To the left were two windows, concealed by vines. They opened +into the apartments of La Valliere. + +The King sighed. + +"It is about nineteen feet to that window," said the King. "If I had a +ladder about nineteen feet long, it would reach to that window. This +is logic." + +Suddenly the King stumbled over something. "St. Denis!" he exclaimed, +looking down. It was a ladder, just nineteen feet long. + +The King placed it against the wall. In so doing, he fixed the lower +end upon the abdomen of a man who lay concealed by the wall The man did +not utter a cry or wince. The King suspected nothing. He ascended the +ladder. + +The ladder was too short. Louis the Grand was not a tall man. He was +still two feet below the window. + +"Dear me!" said the King. + +Suddenly the ladder was lifted two feet from below. This enabled the +King to leap in the window. At the farther end of the apartment stood +a young girl, with red hair and a lame leg. She was trembling with +emotion. + +"Louise!" + +"The King!" + +"Ah, my God, mademoiselle." + +"Ah, my God, sire." + +But a low knock at the door interrupted the lovers. The King uttered a +cry of rage; Louise one of despair. + +The door opened and D'Artagnan entered. + +"Good evening, sire," said the musketeer. + +The King touched a bell. Porthos appeared in the doorway. + +"Good evening, sire." + +"Arrest M. D'Artagnan." + +Porthos looked at D'Artagnan, and did not move. + +The King almost turned purple with rage. He again touched the bell. +Athos entered. + +"Count, arrest Porthos and D'Artagnan." + +The Count de la Fere glanced at Porthos and D'Artagnan, and smiled +sweetly. + +"Sacre! Where is Aramis?" said the King, violently. + +"Here, sire," and Aramis entered. + +"Arrest Athos, Porthos, and D'Artagnan." + +Aramis bowed and folded his arms. + +"Arrest yourself!" + +Aramis did not move. + +The King shuddered and turned pale. "Am I not King of France?" + +"Assuredly, sire, but we are also severally, Porthos, Aramis, +D'Artagnan, and Athos." + +"Ah!" said the King. + +"Yes, sire." + +"What does this mean?" + +"It means, your Majesty," said Aramis, stepping forward, "that your +conduct as a married man is highly improper. I am an Abbe, and I +object to these improprieties. My friends here, D'Artagnan, Athos, and +Porthos, pure-minded young men, are also terribly shocked. Observe, +sire, how they blush!" + +Athos, Porthos, and D'Artagnan blushed. "Ah," said the King, +thoughtfully. "You teach me a lesson. You are devoted and noble young +gentlemen, but your only weakness is your excessive modesty. From this +moment I make you all Marshals and Dukes, with the exception of Aramis." + +"And me, sire?" said Aramis. + +"You shall be an Archbishop!" + +The four friends looked up and then rushed into each other's arms. The +King embraced Louise de la Valliere, by way of keeping them company. A +pause ensued. At last Athos spoke:-- + +"Swear, my children, that, next to yourselves, you will respect the +King of France; and remember that 'Forty years after' we will meet +again." + + + + +THE DWELLER OF THE THRESHOLD. + +BY SIR ED--D L--TT--N B--LW--R. + + + +BOOK I. + +THE PROMPTINGS OF THE IDEAL. + +It was noon. Sir Edward had stepped from his brougham and was +proceeding on foot down the Strand. He was dressed with his usual +faultless taste, but in alighting from his vehicle his foot had +slipped, and a small round disk of conglomerated soil, which instantly +appeared on his high arched instep, marred the harmonious glitter of +his boots. Sir Edward was fastidious. Casting his eyes around, at a +little distance he perceived the stand of a youthful bootblack. +Thither he sauntered, and carelessly placing his foot on the low stool, +he waited the application of the polisher's art. "'Tis true," said Sir +Edward to himself, yet half aloud, "the contact of the Foul and the +Disgusting mars the general effect of the Shiny and the Beautiful--and, +yet, why am I here? I repeat it, calmly and deliberately--why am I +here? Ha! Boy!" + +The Boy looked up--his dark Italian eyes glanced intelligently at the +Philosopher, and as with one hand he tossed back his glossy curls, from +his marble brow, and with the other he spread the equally glossy Day & +Martin over the Baronet's boot, he answered in deep rich tones: "The +Ideal is subjective to the Real. The exercise of apperception gives a +distinctiveness to idiocracy, which is, however, subject to the limits +of ME. You are an admirer of the Beautiful, sir. You wish your boots +blacked. The Beautiful is attainable by means of the Coin." + +"Ah," said Sir Edward thoughtfully, gazing upon the almost supernal +beauty of the Child before him; "you speak well. You have read Kant." + +The Boy blushed deeply. He drew a copy of Kant from his blouse, but in +his confusion several other volumes dropped from his bosom on the +ground. The Baronet picked them up. + +"Ah!" said the Philosopher, "what's this? Cicero's De Senectute, at +your age, too? Martial's Epigrams, Caesar's Commentaries. What! a +classical scholar?" + +"E pluribus Unum. Nux vomica. Nil desperandum. Nihil fit!" said the +Boy, enthusiastically. The Philosopher gazed at the Child. A strange +presence seemed to transfuse and possess him. Over the brow of the Boy +glittered the pale nimbus of the Student. + +"Ah, and Schiller's Robbers, too?" queried the Philosopher. + +"Das ist ausgespielt," said the Boy, modestly. + +"Then you have read my translation of Schiller's Ballads?" continued +the Baronet, with some show of interest. + +"I have, and infinitely prefer them to the original," said the Boy, +with intellectual warmth. "You have shown how in Actual life we strive +for a Goal we cannot reach; how in the Ideal the Goal is attainable, +and there effort is victory. You have given us the Antithesis which is +a key to the Remainder, and constantly balances before us the +conditions of the Actual and the privileges of the Ideal." + +"My very words," said the Baronet; "wonderful, wonderful!" and he gazed +fondly at the Italian boy, who again resumed his menial employment. +Alas! the wings of the Ideal were folded. The Student had been +absorbed in the Boy. + +But Sir Edward's boots were blacked, and he turned to depart. Placing +his hand upon the clustering tendrils that surrounded the classic nob +of the infant Italian, he said softly, like a strain of distant music:-- + +"Boy, you have done well. Love the Good. Protect the Innocent. +Provide for The Indigent. Respect the Philosopher. . . . Stay! Can +you tell we what IS The True, The Beautiful, The Innocent, The +Virtuous?" + +"They are things that commence with a capital letter," said the Boy, +promptly. + +"Enough! Respect everything that commences with a capital letter! +Respect ME!" and dropping a half-penny in the hand of the boy, he +departed. + +The Boy gazed fixedly at the coin. A frightful and instantaneous +change overspread his features. His noble brow was corrugated with +baser lines of calculation. His black eye, serpent-like, glittered +with suppressed passion. Dropping upon his hands and feet, he crawled +to the curbstone and hissed after the retreating form of the Baronet, +the single word:-- + +"Bilk!" + + + +BOOK II. + +IN THE WORLD. + +"Eleven years ago," said Sir Edward to himself, as his brougham slowly +rolled him toward the Committee Room; "just eleven years ago my natural +son disappeared mysteriously. I have no doubt in the world but that +this little bootblack is he. His mother died in Italy. He resembles +his mother very much. Perhaps I ought to provide for him. Shall I +disclose myself? No! no! Better he should taste the sweets of Labor. +Penury ennobles the mind and kindles the Love of the Beautiful. I will +act to him, not like a Father, not like a Guardian, not like a +Friend--but like a Philosopher!" + +With these words, Sir Edward entered the Committee Room. His Secretary +approached him. "Sir Edward, there are fears of a division in the +House, and the Prime Minister has sent for you." + +"I will be there," said Sir Edward, as he placed his hand on his chest +and uttered a hollow cough! + +No one who heard the Baronet that night, in his sarcastic and withering +speech on the Drainage and Sewerage Bill, would have recognized the +lover of the Ideal and the Philosopher of the Beautiful. No one who +listened to his eloquence would have dreamed of the Spartan resolution +this iron man had taken in regard to the Lost Boy--his own beloved +Lionel. None! + +"A fine speech from Sir Edward to-night," said Lord Billingsgate, as, +arm-and-arm with the Premier, he entered his carriage. + +"Yes! but how dreadfully he coughs!" + +"Exactly. Dr. Bolus says his lungs are entirely gone; he breathes +entirely by an effort of will, and altogether independent of pulmonary +assistance." + +"How strange!" and the carriage rolled away. + + + +BOOK III. + +THE DWELLER OF THE THRESHOLD. + +"ADON AI, appear! appear!" + +And as the Seer spoke, the awful Presence glided out of Nothingness, +and sat, sphinx-like, at the feet of the Alchemist. + +"I am come!" said the Thing. + +"You should say, 'I have come,'--it's better grammar," said the +Boy-Neophyte, thoughtfully accenting the substituted expression. + +"Hush, rash Boy," said the Seer, sternly. "Would you oppose your +feeble knowledge to the infinite intelligence of the Unmistakable? A +word, and you are lost forever." + +The Boy breathed a silent prayer, and, handing a sealed package to the +Seer, begged him to hand it to his father in case of his premature +decease. + +"You have sent for me," hissed the Presence. "Behold me, +Apokatharticon,--the Unpronounceable. In me all things exist that are +not already coexistent. I am the Unattainable, the Intangible, the +Cause, and the Effect. In me observe the Brahma of Mr. Emerson; not +only Brahma himself, but also the sacred musical composition rehearsed +by the faithful Hindoo. I am the real Gyges. None others are genuine." + +And the veiled Son of the Starbeam laid himself loosely about the room, +and permeated Space generally. + +"Unfathomable Mystery," said the Rosicrucian in a low, sweet voice. +"Brave Child with the Vitreous Optic! Thou who pervadest all things +and rubbest against us without abrasion of the cuticle. I command +thee, speak!" + +And the misty, intangible, indefinite Presence spoke. + + + +BOOK IV. + +MYSELF. + +After the events related in the last chapter, the reader will perceive +that nothing was easier than to reconcile Sir Edward to his son Lionel, +nor to resuscitate the beautiful Italian girl, who, it appears, was not +dead, and to cause Sir Edward to marry his first and boyish love, whom +he had deserted. They were married in St. George's, Hanover Square. +As the bridal party stood before the altar, Sir Edward, with a sweet +sad smile, said, in quite his old manner:-- + +"The Sublime and Beautiful are the Real; the only Ideal is the +Ridiculous and Homely. Let us always remember this. Let us through +life endeavor to personify the virtues, and always begin 'em with a +capital letter. Let us, whenever we can find an opportunity, deliver +our sentiments in the form of round-hand copies. Respect the Aged. +Eschew Vulgarity. Admire Ourselves. Regard the Novelist." + + + + +THE HAUNTED MAN. + +A CHRISTMAS STORY. + +BY CH--R--S D--CK--NS. + + + +PART I. + +THE FIRST PHANTOM. + +Don't tell me that it wasn't a knocker. I had seen it often enough, +and I ought to know. So ought the three-o'clock beer, in dirty +high-lows, swinging himself over the railing, or executing a demoniacal +jig upon the doorstep; so ought the butcher, although butchers as a +general thing are scornful of such trifles; so ought the postman, to +whom knockers of the most extravagant description were merely human +weaknesses, that were to be pitied and used. And so ought, for the +matter of that, etc., etc., etc. + +But then it was SUCH a knocker. A wild, extravagant, and utterly +incomprehensible knocker. A knocker so mysterious and suspicious that +Policeman X 37, first coming upon it, felt inclined to take it +instantly in custody, but compromised with his professional instincts +by sharply and sternly noting it with an eye that admitted of no +nonsense, but confidently expected to detect its secret yet. An ugly +knocker; a knocker with a hard, human face, that was a type of the +harder human face within. A human face that held between its teeth a +brazen rod. So hereafter, in the mysterious future should be held, +etc., etc. + +But if the knocker had a fierce human aspect in the glare of day, you +should have seen it at night, when it peered out of the gathering +shadows and suggested an ambushed figure; when the light of the street +lamps fell upon it, and wrought a play of sinister expression in its +hard outlines; when it seemed to wink meaningly at a shrouded figure +who, as the night fell darkly, crept up the steps and passed into the +mysterious house; when the swinging door disclosed a black passage into +which the figure seemed to lose itself and become a part of the +mysterious gloom; when the night grew boisterous and the fierce wind +made furious charges at the knocker, as if to wrench it off and carry +it away in triumph. Such a night as this. + +It was a wild and pitiless wind. A wind that had commenced life as a +gentle country zephyr, but wandering through manufacturing towns had +become demoralized, and reaching the city had plunged into extravagant +dissipation and wild excesses. A roistering wind that indulged in +Bacchanalian shouts on the street corners, that knocked off the hats +from the heads of helpless passengers, and then fulfilled its duties by +speeding away, like all young prodigals,--to sea. + +He sat alone in a gloomy library listening to the wind that roared in +the chimney. Around him novels and story-books were strewn thickly; in +his lap he held one with its pages freshly cut, and turned the leaves +wearily until his eyes rested upon a portrait in its frontispiece. And +as the wind howled the more fiercely, and the darkness without fell +blacker, a strange and fateful likeness to that portrait appeared above +his chair and leaned upon his shoulder. The Haunted Man gazed at the +portrait and sighed. The figure gazed at the portrait and sighed too. + +"Here again?" said the Haunted Man. + +"Here again," it repeated in a low voice. + +"Another novel?" + +"Another novel." + +"The old story?" + +"The old story." + +"I see a child," said the Haunted Man, gazing from the pages of the +book into the fire,--"a most unnatural child, a model infant. It is +prematurely old and philosophic. It dies in poverty to slow music. It +dies surrounded by luxury to slow music. It dies with an accompaniment +of golden water and rattling carts to slow music. Previous to its +decease it makes a will; it repeats the Lord's Prayer, it kisses the +'boofer lady.' That child--" + +"Is mine," said the phantom. + +"I see a good woman, undersized. I see several charming women, but +they are all undersized. They are more or less imbecile and idiotic, +but always fascinating and undersized. They wear coquettish caps and +aprons. I observe that feminine virtue is invariably below the medium +height, and that it is always simple and infantine. These women--" + +"Are mine." + +"I see a haughty, proud, and wicked lady. She is tall and queenly. I +remark that all proud and wicked women are tall and queenly. That +woman--" + +"Is mine," said the phantom, wringing his hands. + +"I see several things continually impending. I observe that whenever +an accident, a murder, or death is about to happen, there is something +in the furniture, in the locality, in the atmosphere, that foreshadows +and suggests it years in advance. I cannot say that in real life I +have noticed it,--the perception of this surprising fact belongs--" + +"To me!" said the phantom. The Haunted Man continued, in a despairing +tone:-- + +"I see the influence of this in the magazines and daily papers; I see +weak imitators rise up and enfeeble the world with senseless formula. +I am getting tired of it. It won't do, Charles! it won't do!" and the +Haunted Man buried his head in his hands and groaned. The figure looked +down upon him sternly: the portrait in the frontispiece frowned as he +gazed. + +"Wretched man," said the phantom, "and how have these things affected +you?" + +"Once I laughed and cried, but then I was younger. Now, I would forget +them if I could." + +"Have then your wish. And take this with you, man whom I renounce. +From this day henceforth you shall live with those whom I displace. +Without forgetting me, 't will be your lot to walk through life as if +we had not met. But first you shall survey these scenes that +henceforth must be yours. At one to-night, prepare to meet the phantom +I have raised. Farewell!" + +The sound of its voice seemed to fade away with the dying wind, and the +Haunted Man was alone. But the firelight flickered gayly, and the +light danced on the walls, making grotesque figures of the furniture. + +"Ha, ha!" said the Haunted Man, rubbing his hands gleefully; "now for a +whiskey punch and a cigar." + + + +BOOK II. + +THE SECOND PHANTOM. + +One! The stroke of the far-off bell had hardly died before the front +door closed with a reverberating clang. Steps were heard along the +passage; the library door swung open of itself, and the Knocker--yes, +the Knocker--slowly strode into the room. The Haunted Man rubbed his +eyes,--no! there could be no mistake about it,--it was the Knocker's +face, mounted on a misty, almost imperceptible body. The brazen rod +was transferred from its mouth to its right hand, where it was held +like a ghostly truncheon. + +"It's a cold evening," said the Haunted Man. + +"It is," said the Goblin, in a hard, metallic voice. + +"It must be pretty cold out there," said the Haunted Man, with vague +politeness. "Do you ever--will you--take some hot water and brandy?" + +"No," said the Goblin. + +"Perhaps you'd like it cold, by way of change?" continued the Haunted +Man, correcting himself, as he remembered the peculiar temperature with +which the Goblin was probably familiar. + +"Time flies," said the Goblin coldly. "We have no leisure for idle +talk. Come!" He moved his ghostly truncheon toward the window, and +laid his hand upon the other's arm. At his touch the body of the +Haunted Man seemed to become as thin and incorporeal as that of the +Goblin himself, and together they glided out of the window into the +black and blowy night. + +In the rapidity of their flight the senses of the Haunted Man seemed to +leave him. At length they stopped suddenly. + +"What do you see?" asked the Goblin. + +"I see a battlemented mediaeval castle. Gallant men in mail ride over +the drawbridge, and kiss their gauntleted fingers to fair ladies, who +wave their lily hands in return. I see fight and fray and tournament. +I hear roaring heralds bawling the charms of delicate women, and +shamelessly proclaiming their lovers. Stay. I see a Jewess about to +leap from a battlement. I see knightly deeds, violence, rapine, and a +good deal of blood. I've seen pretty much the same at Astley's." + +"Look again." + +"I see purple moors, glens, masculine women, bare-legged men, priggish +book-worms, more violence, physical excellence, and blood. Always +blood,--and the superiority of physical attainments." + +"And how do you feel now?" said the Goblin. + +The Haunted Man shrugged his shoulders. "None the better for being +carried back and asked to sympathize with a barbarous age." + +The Goblin smiled and clutched his arm; they again sped rapidly through +the black night and again halted. + +"What do you see?" said the Goblin. + +"I see a barrack room, with a mess table, and a group of intoxicated +Celtic officers telling funny stories, and giving challenges to duel. +I see a young Irish gentleman capable of performing prodigies of valor. +I learn incidentally that the acme of all heroism is the cornetcy of a +dragoon regiment. I hear a good deal of French! No, thank you," said +the Haunted Man hurriedly, as he stayed the waving hand of the Goblin; +"I would rather NOT go to the Peninsula, and don't care to have a +private interview with Napoleon." + +Again the Goblin flew away with the unfortunate man, and from a strange +roaring below them he judged they were above the ocean. A ship hove in +sight, and the Goblin stayed its flight. "Look," he said, squeezing +his companion's arm. + +The Haunted Man yawned. "Don't you think, Charles, you're rather +running this thing into the ground? Of course it's very moral and +instructive, and all that. But ain't there a little too much pantomime +about it? Come now!" + +"Look!" repeated the Goblin, pinching his arm malevolently. The +Haunted Man groaned. + +"O, of course, I see her Majesty's ship Arethusa. Of course I am +familiar with her stern First Lieutenant, her eccentric Captain, her +one fascinating and several mischievous midshipmen. Of course I know +it's a splendid thing to see all this, and not to be seasick. O, there +the young gentlemen are going to play a trick on the purser. For God's +sake, let us go," and the unhappy man absolutely dragged the Goblin +away with him. + +When they next halted, it was at the edge of a broad and boundless +prairie, in the middle of an oak opening. + +"I see," said the Haunted Man, without waiting for his cue, but +mechanically, and as if he were repeating a lesson which the Goblin had +taught him,--"I see the Noble Savage. He is very fine to look at! But +I observe under his war-paint, feathers, and picturesque blanket, dirt, +disease, and an unsymmetrical contour. I observe beneath his inflated +rhetoric deceit and hypocrisy; beneath his physical hardihood, cruelty, +malice, and revenge. The Noble Savage is a humbug. I remarked the +same to Mr. Catlin." + +"Come," said the phantom. + +The Haunted Man sighed, and took out his watch. "Couldn't we do the +rest of this another time?" + +"My hour is almost spent, irreverent being, but there is yet a chance +for your reformation. Come!" + +Again they sped through the night, and again halted. The sound of +delicious but melancholy music fell upon their ears. + +"I see," said the Haunted Man, with something of interest in his +manner,--"I see an old moss-covered manse beside a sluggish, flowing +river. I see weird shapes: witches, Puritans, clergymen, little +children, judges, mesmerized maidens, moving to the sound of melody +that thrills me with its sweetness and purity. But, although carried +along its calm and evenly flowing current, the shapes are strange and +frightful: an eating lichen gnaws at the heart of each. Not only the +clergymen, but witch, maiden, judge, and Puritan, all wear Scarlet +Letters of some kind burned upon their hearts. I am fascinated and +thrilled, but I feel a morbid sensitiveness creeping over me. I--I beg +your pardon." The Goblin was yawning frightfully. "Well, perhaps we +had better go." + +"One more, and the last," said the Goblin. + +They were moving home. Streaks of red were beginning to appear in the +eastern sky. Along the banks of the blackly flowing river by moorland +and stagnant fens, by low houses, clustering close to the water's edge, +like strange mollusks, crawled upon the beach to dry; by misty black +barges, the more misty and indistinct seen through its mysterious veil, +the river fog was slowly rising. So rolled away and rose from the +heart of the Haunted Man, etc., etc. + +They stopped before a quaint mansion of red brick. The Goblin waved +his hand without speaking. + +"I see," said the Haunted Man, "a gay drawing-room. I see my old +friends of the club, of the college, of society, even as they lived and +moved. I see the gallant and unselfish men, whom I have loved, and the +snobs whom I have hated. I see strangely mingling with them, and now +and then blending with their forms, our old friends Dick Steele, +Addison, and Congreve. I observe, though, that these gentlemen have a +habit of getting too much in the way. The royal standard of Queen +Anne, not in itself a beautiful ornament, is rather too prominent in +the picture. The long galleries of black oak, the formal furniture, +the old portraits, are picturesque, but depressing. The house is damp. +I enjoy myself better here on the lawn, where they are getting up a +Vanity Fair. See, the bell rings, the curtain is rising, the puppets +are brought out for a new play. Let me see." + +The Haunted Man was pressing forward in his eagerness, but the hand of +the Goblin stayed him, and pointing to his feet he saw, between him and +the rising curtain, a new-made grave. And bending above the grave in +passionate grief, the Haunted Man beheld the phantom of the previous +night. + + * * * * * + +The Haunted Man started, and--woke. The bright sunshine streamed into +the room. The air was sparkling with frost. He ran joyously to the +window and opened it. A small boy saluted him with "Merry Christmas." +The Haunted Man instantly gave him a Bank of England note. "How much +like Tiny Tim, Tom, and Bobby that boy looked,--bless my soul, what a +genius this Dickens has!" + +A knock at the door, and Boots entered. + +"Consider your salary doubled instantly. Have you read David +Copperfield?" + +"Yezzur." + +"Your salary is quadrupled. What do you think of the Old Curiosity +Shop?" + +The man instantly burst into a torrent of tears, and then into a roar +of laughter. + +"Enough! Here are five thousand pounds. Open a porter-house, and call +it, 'Our Mutual Friend.' Huzza! I feel so happy!" And the haunted +Man danced about the room. + +And so, bathed in the light of that blessed sun, and yet glowing with +the warmth of a good action, the Haunted Man, haunted no longer, save +by those shapes which make the dreams of children beautiful, reseated +himself in his chair, and finished Our Mutual Friend. + + + + +MISS MIX. + +BY CH--L--TTE BR--NTE. + + + +CHAPTER I. + +My earliest impressions are of a huge, misshapen rock, against which +the hoarse waves beat unceasingly. On this rock three pelicans are +standing in a defiant attitude. A dark sky lowers in the background, +while two sea-gulls and a gigantic cormorant eye with extreme disfavor +the floating corpse of a drowned woman in the foreground. A few +bracelets, coral necklaces, and other articles of jewelry, scattered +around loosely, complete this remarkable picture. + +It is one which, in some vague, unconscious way, symbolizes, to my +fancy, the character of a man. I have never been able to explain +exactly why. I think I must have seen the picture in some illustrated +volume, when a baby, or my mother may have dreamed it before I was born. + +As a child I was not handsome. When I consulted the triangular bit of +looking-glass which I always carried with me, it showed a pale, sandy, +and freckled face, shaded by locks like the color of seaweed when the +sun strikes it in deep water. My eyes were said to be indistinctive; +they were a faint, ashen gray; but above them rose--my only beauty--a +high, massive, domelike forehead, with polished temples, like +door-knobs of the purest porcelain. + +Our family was a family of governesses. My mother had been one, and my +sisters had the same occupation. Consequently, when, at the age of +thirteen, my eldest sister handed me the advertisement of Mr. +Rawjester, clipped from that day's "Times," I accepted it as my +destiny. Nevertheless, a mysterious presentiment of an indefinite +future haunted me in my dreams that night, as I lay upon my little +snow-white bed. The next morning, with two bandboxes tied up in silk +handkerchiefs, and a hair trunk, I turned my back upon Minerva Cottage +forever. + + + +CHAPTER II. + +Blunderbore Hall, the seat of James Rawjester, Esq., was encompassed by +dark pines and funereal hemlocks on all sides. The wind sang weirdly +in the turrets and moaned through the long-drawn avenues of the park. +As I approached the house I saw several mysterious figures flit before +the windows, and a yell of demoniac laughter answered my summons at the +bell. While I strove to repress my gloomy forebodings, the +housekeeper, a timid, scared-looking old woman, showed me into the +library. + +I entered, overcome with conflicting emotions. I was dressed in a +narrow gown of dark serge, trimmed with black bugles. A thick green +shawl was pinned across my breast. My hands were encased with black +half-mittens worked with steel beads; on my feet were large pattens, +originally the property of my deceased grandmother. I carried a blue +cotton umbrella. As I passed before a mirror, I could not help +glancing at it, nor could I disguise from myself the fact that I was +not handsome. + +Drawing a chair into a recess, I sat down with folded hands, calmly +awaiting the arrival of my master. Once or twice a fearful yell rang +through the house, or the rattling of chains, and curses uttered in a +deep, manly voice, broke upon the oppressive stillness. I began to +feel my soul rising with the emergency of the moment. + +"You look alarmed, miss. You don't hear anything, my dear, do you?" +asked the housekeeper nervously. + +"Nothing whatever," I remarked calmly, as a terrific scream, followed +by the dragging of chairs and tables in the room above, drowned for a +moment my reply. "It is the silence, on the contrary, which has made +me foolishly nervous." + +The housekeeper looked at me approvingly, and instantly made some tea +for me. + +I drank seven cups; as I was beginning the eighth, I heard a crash, and +the next moment a man leaped into the room through the broken window. + + + +CHAPTER III. + +The crash startled me from my self-control. The housekeeper bent +toward me and whispered:-- + +"Don't be excited. It's Mr. Rawjester,--he prefers to come in +sometimes in this way. It's his playfulness, ha! ha! ha!" + +"I perceive," I said calmly. "It's the unfettered impulse of a lofty +soul breaking the tyrannizing bonds of custom." And I turned toward +him. + +He had never once looked at me. He stood with his back to the fire, +which set off the herculean breadth of his shoulders. His face was +dark and expressive; his under jaw squarely formed, and remarkably +heavy. I was struck with his remarkable likeness to a Gorilla. + +As he absently tied the poker into hard knots with his nervous fingers, +I watched him with some interest. Suddenly he turned toward me:-- + +"Do you think I'm handsome, young woman?" + +"Not classically beautiful," I returned calmly; "but you have, if I may +so express myself, an abstract manliness,--a sincere and wholesome +barbarity which, involving as it does the naturalness--" But I stopped, +for he yawned at that moment,--an action which singularly developed the +immense breadth of his lower jaw,--and I saw he had forgotten me. +Presently he turned to the housekeeper:-- + +"Leave us." + +The old woman withdrew with a courtesy. + +Mr. Rawjester deliberately turned his back upon me and remained silent +for twenty minutes. I drew my shawl the more closely around my +shoulders and closed my eyes. + +"You are the governess?" at length he said. + +"I am, sir." + +"A creature who teaches geography, arithmetic, and the use of the +globes--ha!--a wretched remnant of femininity,--a skimp pattern of +girlhood with a premature flavor of tea-leaves and morality. Ugh!" + +I bowed my head silently. + +"Listen to me, girl!" he said sternly; "this child you have come to +teach--my ward--is not legitimate. She is the offspring of my +mistress,--a common harlot. Ah! Miss Mix, what do you think of me +now?" + +"I admire," I replied calmly, "your sincerity. A mawkish regard for +delicacy might have kept this disclosure to yourself. I only recognize +in your frankness that perfect community of thought and sentiment which +should exist between original natures." + +I looked up; he had already forgotten my presence, and was engaged in +pulling off his boots and coat. This done, he sank down in an +arm-chair before the fire, and ran the poker wearily through his hair. +I could not help pitying him. + +The wind howled dismally without, and the rain beat furiously against +the windows. I crept toward him and seated myself on a low stool +beside his chair. + +Presently he turned, without seeing me, and placed his foot absently in +my lap. I affected not to notice it. But he started and looked down. + +"You here yet--Carrothead? Ah, I forgot. Do you speak French?" + +"Oui, Monsieur." + +"Taisez-vous!" he said sharply, with singular purity of accent. I +complied. The wind moaned fearfully in the chimney, and the light +burned dimly. I shuddered in spite of myself. "Ah, you tremble, girl!" + +"It is a fearful night." + +"Fearful! Call you this fearful, ha! ha! ha! Look! you wretched +little atom, look!" and he dashed forward, and, leaping out of the +window, stood like a statue in the pelting storm, with folded arms. He +did not stay long, but in a few minutes returned by way of the hall +chimney. I saw from the way that he wiped his feet on my dress that he +had again forgotten my presence. + +"You are a governess. What can you teach?" he asked, suddenly and +fiercely thrusting his face in mine. + +"Manners!" I replied, calmly. + +"Ha! teach ME!" + +"You mistake yourself," I said, adjusting my mittens. "Your manners +require not the artificial restraint of society. You are radically +polite; this impetuosity and ferociousness is simply the sincerity +which is the basis of a proper deportment. Your instincts are moral; +your better nature, I see, is religious. As St. Paul justly +remarks--see chap. 6, 8, 9, and 10--" + +He seized a heavy candlestick, and threw it at me. I dodged it +submissively but firmly. + +"Excuse me," he remarked, as his under jaw slowly relaxed. "Excuse me, +Miss Mix--but I can't stand St. Paul! Enough--you are engaged." + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +I followed the housekeeper as she led the way timidly to my room. As we +passed into a dark hall in the wing, I noticed that it was closed by an +iron gate with a grating. Three of the doors on the corridor were +likewise grated. A strange noise, as of shuffling feet and the howling +of infuriated animals, rang through the hall. Bidding the housekeeper +good night, and taking the candle, I entered my bedchamber. + +I took off my dress, and, putting on a yellow flannel nightgown, which +I could not help feeling did not agree with my complexion, I composed +myself to rest by reading Blair's Rhetoric and Paley's Moral +Philosophy. I had just put out the light, when I heard voices in the +corridor. I listened attentively. I recognized Mr. Rawjester's stern +tones. + +"Have you fed No. 1?" he asked. + +"Yes, sir," said a gruff voice, apparently belonging to a domestic. + +"How's No. 2?" + +"She's a little off her feed, just now, but will pick up in a day or +two!" + +"And No. 3?" + +"Perfectly furious, sir. Her tantrums are ungovernable." + +"Hush!" + +The voices died away, and I sank into a fitful slumber. + +I dreamed that I was wandering through a tropical forest. Suddenly I +saw the figure of a gorilla approaching me. As it neared me, I +recognized the features of Mr. Rawjester. He held his hand to his side +as if in pain. I saw that he had been wounded. He recognized me and +called me by name, but at the same moment the vision changed to an +Ashantee village, where, around the fire, a group of negroes were +dancing and participating in some wild Obi festival. I awoke with the +strain still ringing in my ears. + +"Hokee-pokee wokee fum!" + +Good Heavens! could I be dreaming? I heard the voice distinctly on the +floor below, and smelt something burning. I arose, with an indistinct +presentiment of evil, and hastily putting some cotton in my ears and +tying a towel about my head, I wrapped myself in a shawl and rushed +down stairs. The door of Mr. Rawjester's room was open. I entered. + +Mr. Rawjester lay apparently in a deep slumber, from which even the +clouds of smoke that came from the burning curtains of his bed could +not rouse him. Around the room a large and powerful negress, scantily +attired, with her head adorned with feathers, was dancing wildly, +accompanying herself with bone castanets. It looked like some terrible +fetich. + +I did not lose my calmness. After firmly emptying the pitcher, basin, +and slop-jar on the burning bed, I proceeded cautiously to the garden, +and, returning with the garden-engine, I directed a small stream at Mr. +Rawjester. + +At my entrance the gigantic negress fled. Mr. Rawjester yawned and +woke. I explained to him, as he rose dripping from the bed, the reason +of my presence. He did not seem to be excited, alarmed, or +discomposed. He gazed at me curiously. + +"So you risked your life to save mine, eh? you canary-colored teacher +of infants." + +I blushed modestly, and drew my shawl tightly over my yellow flannel +nightgown. + +"You love me, Mary Jane,--don't deny it! This trembling shows it!" He +drew me closely toward him, and said, with his deep voice tenderly +modulated:-- + +"How's her pooty tootens,--did she get her 'ittle tootens wet,--bess +her?" + +I understood his allusion to my feet. I glanced down and saw that in +my hurry I had put on a pair of his old india-rubbers. My feet were +not small or pretty, and the addition did not add to their beauty. + +"Let me go, sir," I remarked quietly. "This is entirely improper; it +sets a bad example for your child." And I firmly but gently extricated +myself from his grasp. I approached the door. He seemed for a moment +buried in deep thought. + +"You say this was a negress?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Humph, No. 1, I suppose?" + +"Who is Number One, sir?" + +"My FIRST," he remarked, with a significant and sarcastic smile. Then, +relapsing into his old manner, he threw his boots at my head, and bade +me begone. I withdrew calmly. + + + +CHAPTER V. + +My pupil was a bright little girl, who spoke French with a perfect +accent. Her mother had been a French ballet-dancer, which probably +accounted for it. Although she was only six years old, it was easy to +perceive that she had been several times in love. She once said to +me:-- + +"Miss Mix, did you ever have the grande passion? Did you ever feel a +fluttering here?" and she placed her hand upon her small chest, and +sighed quaintly, "a kind of distaste for bonbons and caromels, when the +world seemed as tasteless and hollow as a broken cordial drop." + +"Then you have felt it, Nina?" I said quietly. "O dear, yes. There was +Buttons,--that was our page, you know,--I loved him dearly, but papa +sent him away. Then there was Dick, the groom, but he laughed at me, +and I suffered misery!" and she struck a tragic French attitude. +"There is to be company here to-morrow," she added, rattling on with +childish naivete, "and papa's sweetheart--Blanche Marabout--is to be +here. You know they say she is to be my mamma." + +What thrill was this shot through me? But I rose calmly, and, +administering a slight correction to the child, left the apartment. + +Blunderbore House, for the next week, was the scene of gayety and +merriment. That portion of the mansion closed with a grating was +walled up, and the midnight shrieks no longer troubled me. + +But I felt more keenly the degradation of my situation. I was obliged +to help Lady Blanche at her toilet and help her to look beautiful. For +what? To captivate him? O--no, no,--but why this sudden thrill and +faintness? Did he really love her? I had seen him pinch and swear at +her. But I reflected that he had thrown a candlestick at my head, and +my foolish heart was reassured. + +It was a night of festivity, when a sudden message obliged Mr. +Rawjester to leave his guests for a few hours. "Make yourselves merry, +idiots," he added, under his breath, as he passed me. The door closed +and he was gone. + +An half-hour passed. In the midst of the dancing a shriek was heard, +and out of the swaying crowd of fainting women and excited men a wild +figure strode into the room. One glance showed it to be a highwayman, +heavily armed, holding a pistol in each hand. + +"Let no one pass out of this room!" he said, in a voice of thunder. +"The house is surrounded and you cannot escape. The first one who +crosses yonder threshold will be shot like a dog. Gentlemen, I'll +trouble you to approach in single file, and hand me your purses and +watches." + +Finding resistance useless, the order was ungraciously obeyed. + +"Now, ladies, please to pass up your jewelry and trinkets." + +This order was still more ungraciously complied with. As Blanche +handed to the bandit captain her bracelet, she endeavored to conceal a +diamond necklace, the gift of Mr. Rawjester, in her bosom. But, with a +demoniac grin, the powerful brute tore it from its concealment, and, +administering a hearty box on the ear of the young girl, flung her +aside. + +It was now my turn. With a beating heart I made my way to the robber +chieftain, and sank at his feet. "O sir, I am nothing but a poor +governess, pray let me go." + +"O ho! A governess? Give me your last month's wages, then. Give me +what you have stolen from your master!" and he laughed fiendishly. + +I gazed at him quietly, and said, in a low voice: "I have stolen +nothing from you, Mr. Rawjester!" + +"Ah, discovered! Hush! listen, girl!" he hissed, in a fiercer whisper, +"utter a syllable to frustrate my plans and you die; aid me, and--" +But he was gone. + +In a few moments the party, with the exception of myself, were gagged +and locked in the cellar. The next moment torches were applied to the +rich hangings, and the house was in flames. I felt a strong hand seize +me, and bear me out in the open air and place me upon the hillside, +where I could overlook the burning mansion. It was Mr. Rawjester. + +"Burn!" he said, as he shook his fist at the flames. Then sinking on +his knees before me, he said hurriedly:-- + +"Mary Jane, I love you; the obstacles to our union are or will be soon +removed. In yonder mansion were confined my three crazy wives. One of +them, as you know, attempted to kill me! Ha! this is vengeance! But +will you be mine?" + +I fell, without a word, upon his neck. + + + + +GUY HEAVYSTONE; + +OR, + +"ENTIRE." + +A MUSCULAR NOVEL. + +BY THE AUTHOR or "SWORD AND GUN." + + + +CHAPTER I. + +"Nerei repandirostrum incurvicervicum pecus." + + +A dingy, swashy, splashy afternoon in October; a school-yard filled +with a mob of riotous boys. A lot of us standing outside. + +Suddenly came a dull, crashing sound from the school-room. At the +ominous interruption I shuddered involuntarily, and called to +Smithsye:-- + +"What's up, Smithums?" + +"Guy's cleaning out the fourth form," he replied. + +At the same moment George de Coverly passed me, holding his nose, from +whence the bright Norman blood streamed redly. To him the plebeian +Smithsye laughingly:-- + +"Cully! how's his nibs?" + +I pushed the door of the school-room open. There are some spectacles +which a man never forgets. The burning of Troy probably seemed a +large-sized conflagration to the pious Aeneas, and made an impression +on him which he carried away with the feeble Anchises. + +In the centre of the room, lightly brandishing the piston-rod of a +steam-engine, stood Guy Heavystone alone. I say alone, for the pile of +small boys on the floor in the corner could hardly be called company. + +I will try and sketch him for the reader. Guy Heavystone was then only +fifteen. His broad, deep chest, his sinewy and quivering flank, his +straight pastern, showed him to be a thoroughbred. Perhaps he was a +trifle heavy in the fetlock, but he held his head haughtily erect. His +eyes were glittering but pitiless. There was a sternness about the +lower part of his face,--the old Heavystone look,--a sternness, +heightened, perhaps, by the snaffle-bit which, in one of his strange +freaks, he wore in his mouth to curb his occasional ferocity. His +dress was well adapted to his square-set and herculean frame. A +striped knit undershirt, close-fitting striped tights, and a few +spangles set off his figure; a neat Glengarry cap adorned his head. On +it was displayed the Heavystone crest, a cock regardant on a dunghill +or, and the motto, "Devil a better!" + +I thought of Horatius on the bridge, of Hector before the walls. I +always make it a point to think of something classical at such times. + +He saw me, and his sternness partly relaxed. Something like a smile +struggled through his grim lineaments. It was like looking on the +Jungfrau after having seen Mont Blanc,--a trifle, only a trifle less +sublime and awful. Resting his hand lightly on the shoulder of the +head-master, who shuddered and collapsed under his touch, he strode +toward me. + +His walk was peculiar. You could not call it a stride. It was like +the "crest-tossing Bellerophon,"--a kind of prancing gait. Guy +Heavystone pranced toward me. + + + +CHAPTER II. + + "Lord Lovel he stood at the garden gate, + A-combing his milk-white steed." + + +It was the winter of 186- when I next met Guy Heavystone. He had left +the University and had entered the 76th "Heavies." "I have exchanged +the gown for the sword, you see," he said, grasping my hand, and +fracturing the bones of my little finger, as he shook it. + +I gazed at him with unmixed admiration. He was squarer, sterner, and +in every way smarter and more remarkable than ever. I began to feel +toward this man as Phalaster felt towards Phyrgino, as somebody must +have felt toward Archididasculus, as Boswell felt toward Johnson. + +"Come into my den," he said, and lifting me gently by the seat of my +pantaloons he carried me up stairs and deposited me, before I could +apologize, on the sofa. I looked around the room. It was a bachelor's +apartment, characteristically furnished in the taste of the proprietor. +A few claymores and battle-axes were ranged against the wall, and a +culverin, captured by Sir Ralph Heavystone, occupied the corner, the +other end of the room being taken up by a light battery. Foils, +boxing-gloves, saddles, and fishing-poles lay around carelessly. A +small pile of billets-doux lay upon a silver salver. The man was not +an anchorite, nor yet a Sir Galahad. + +I never could tell what Guy thought of women. "Poor little beasts," he +would often say when the conversation turned on any of his fresh +conquests. Then, passing his hand over his marble brow, the old look +of stern fixedness of purpose and unflinching severity would straighten +the lines of his mouth, and he would mutter, half to himself, "S'death!" + +"Come with me to Heavystone Grange. The Exmoor Hounds throw off +to-morrow. I'll give you a mount," he said, as he amused himself by +rolling up a silver candlestick between his fingers. "You shall have +Cleopatra. But stay," he added, thoughtfully; "now I remember, I +ordered Cleopatra to be shot this morning." + +"And why?" I queried. + +"She threw her rider yesterday and fell on him--" + +"And killed him?" + +"No. That's the reason why I have ordered her to be shot. I keep no +animals that are not dangerous--I should add--DEADLY!" He hissed the +last sentence between his teeth, and a gloomy frown descended over his +calm brow. + +I affected to turn over the tradesman's bills that lay on the table, +for, like all of the Heavystone race, Guy seldom paid cash, and said:-- + +"You remind me of the time when Leonidas--" + +"O, bother Leonidas and your classical allusions. Come!" + +We descended to dinner. + + + +CHAPTER III. + + "He carries weight, he rides a race, + 'Tis for a thousand pound." + + +"There is Flora Billingsgate, the greatest coquette and hardest rider +in the country," said my companion, Ralph Mortmain, as we stood upon +Dingleby Common before the meet. + +I looked up and beheld Guy Heavystone bending haughtily over the +saddle, as he addressed a beautiful brunette. She was indeed a +splendidly groomed and high-spirited woman. We were near enough to +overhear the following conversation, which any high-toned reader will +recognize as the common and natural expression of the higher classes. + +"When Diana takes the field the chase is not wholly confined to objects +ferae naturae," said Guy, darting a significant glance at his +companion. Flora did not shrink either from the glance or the meaning +implied in the sarcasm. + +"If I were looking for an Endymion, now--" she said archly, as she +playfully cantered over a few hounds and leaped a five-barred gate. + +Guy whispered a few words, inaudible to the rest of the party, and, +curvetting slightly, cleverly cleared two of the huntsmen in a flying +leap, galloped up the front steps of the mansion, and dashing at full +speed through the hall leaped through the drawing-room window and +rejoined me, languidly, on the lawn. + +"Be careful of Flora Billingsgate," he said to me, in low stern tones, +while his pitiless eye shot a baleful fire. "Gardez vous!" + +"Gnothi seauton," I replied calmly, not wishing to appear to be behind +him in perception or verbal felicity. + +Guy started off in high spirits. He was well carried. He and the +first whip, a ten-stone man, were head and head at the last fence, +while the hounds were rolling over their fox a hundred yards farther in +the open. + +But an unexpected circumstance occurred. Coming back, his chestnut +mare refused a ten-foot wall. She reared and fell backward. Again he +led her up to it lightly; again she refused, falling heavily from the +coping. Guy started to his feet. The old pitiless fire shone in his +eyes; the old stern look settled around his mouth. Seizing the mare by +the tail and mane he threw her over the wall. She landed twenty feet on +the other side, erect and trembling. Lightly leaping the same obstacle +himself, he remounted her. She did not refuse the wall the next time. + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +"He holds him by his glittering eye." + + +Guy was in the North of Ireland, cock-shooting. So Ralph Mortmain told +me, and also that the match between Mary Brandagee and Guy had been +broken off by Flora Billingsgate. "I don't like those Billingsgates," +said Ralph, "they're a bad stock. Her father, Smithfield de +Billingsgate, had an unpleasant way of turning up the knave from the +bottom of the pack. But nous verrons; let us go and see Guy." + +The next morning we started for Fin-ma-Coul's Crossing. When I reached +the shooting-box, where Guy was entertaining a select company of +friends, Flora Billingsgate greeted me with a saucy smile. + +Guy was even squarer and sterner than ever. His gusts of passion were +more frequent, and it was with difficulty that he could keep an +able-bodied servant in his family. His present retainers were more or +less maimed from exposure to the fury of their master. There was a +strange cynicism, a cutting sarcasm in his address, piercing through +his polished manner. I thought of Timon, etc., etc. + +One evening, we were sitting over our Chambertin, after a hard day's +work, and Guy was listlessly turning over some letters, when suddenly +he uttered a cry. Did you ever hear the trumpeting of a wounded +elephant? It was like that. + +I looked at him with consternation. He was glancing at a letter which +he held at arm's length, and snorting, as it were, at it as he gazed. +The lower part of his face was stern, but not as rigid as usual. He +was slowly grinding between his teeth the fragments of the glass he had +just been drinking from. Suddenly he seized one of his servants, and, +forcing the wretch upon his knees, exclaimed, with the roar of a +tiger:-- + +"Dog! why was this kept from me?" + +"Why, please, sir, Miss Flora said as how it was a reconciliation from +Miss Brandagee, and it was to be kept from you where you would not be +likely to see it,--and--and--" + +"Speak, dog! and you--" + +"I put it among your bills, sir!" + +With a groan, like distant thunder, Guy fell swooning to the floor. + +He soon recovered, for the next moment a servant came rushing into the +room with the information that a number of the ingenuous peasantry of +the neighborhood were about to indulge that evening in the national +pastime of burning a farm-house and shooting a landlord. Guy smiled a +fearful smile, without, however, altering his stern and pitiless +expression. + +"Let them come," he said calmly; "I feel like entertaining company." + +We barricaded the doors and windows, and then chose our arms from the +armory. Guy's choice was a singular one: it was a landing net with a +long handle, and a sharp cavalry sabre. + +We were not destined to remain long in ignorance of its use. A howl +was heard from without, and a party of fifty or sixty armed men +precipitated themselves against the door. + +Suddenly the window opened. With the rapidity of lightning, Guy +Heavystone cast the net over the head of the ringleader, ejaculated +"Habet!" and with a back stroke of his cavalry sabre severed the member +from its trunk, and, drawing the net back again, cast the gory head +upon the floor, saying quietly:-- + +"One." + +Again the net was cast, the steel flashed, the net was withdrawn, and +an ominous "Two!" accompanied the head as it rolled on the floor. + +"Do you remember what Pliny says of the gladiator?" said Guy, calmly +wiping his sabre. "How graphic is that passage commencing 'Inter nos, +etc.'" The sport continued until the heads of twenty desperadoes had +been gathered in. The rest seemed inclined to disperse. Guy +incautiously showed himself at the door; a ringing shot was heard, and +he staggered back, pierced through the heart. Grasping the door-post in +the last unconscious throes of his mighty frame, the whole side of the +house yielded to that earthquake tremor, and we had barely time to +escape before the whole building fell in ruins. I thought of Samson, +the Giant Judge, etc., etc.; but all was over. + +Guy Heavystone had died as he had lived,--HARD. + + + + +MR. MIDSHIPMAN BREEZY. + +A NAVAL OFFICER. + +BY CAPTAIN M--RRY--T, R. N. + + + +CHAPTER I. + +My father was a north-country surgeon. He had retired, a widower, from +her Majesty's navy many years before, and had a small practice in his +native village. When I was seven years old he employed me to carry +medicines to his patients. Being of a lively disposition, I sometimes +amused myself; during my daily rounds, by mixing the contents of the +different phials. Although I had no reason to doubt that the general +result of this practice was beneficial, yet, as the death of a +consumptive curate followed the addition of a strong mercurial lotion +to his expectorant, my father concluded to withdraw me from the +profession and send me to school. + +Grubbins, the schoolmaster, was a tyrant, and it was not long before my +impetuous and self-willed nature rebelled against his authority. I +soon began to form plans of revenge. In this I was assisted by Tom +Snaffle,--a schoolfellow. One day Tom suggested:-- + +"Suppose we blow him up. I've got two pounds of powder!" + +"No, that's too noisy," I replied. + +Tom was silent for a minute, and again spoke:-- + +"You remember how you flattened out the curate, Pills! Couldn't you +give Grubbins something--something to make him leathery sick--eh?" + +A flash of inspiration crossed my mind. I went to the shop of the +village apothecary. He knew me; I had often purchased vitriol, which I +poured into Grubbins's inkstand to corrode his pens and burn up his +coat-tail, on which he was in the habit of wiping them. I boldly asked +for an ounce of chloroform. The young apothecary winked and handed me +the bottle. + +It was Grubbins's custom to throw his handkerchief over his head, +recline in his chair and take a short nap during recess. Watching my +opportunity, as he dozed, I managed to slip his handkerchief from his +face and substitute my own, moistened with chloroform. In a few +minutes he was insensible. Tom and I then quickly shaved his head, +beard, and eyebrows, blackened his face with a mixture of vitriol and +burnt cork, and fled. There was a row and scandal the next day. My +father always excused me by asserting that Grubbins had got drunk,--but +somehow found it convenient to procure me an appointment in her +Majesty's navy at an early day. + + + +CHAPTER II. + +An official letter, with the Admiralty seal, informed me that I was +expected to join H. M. ship Belcher, Captain Boltrope, at Portsmouth, +without delay. In a few days I presented myself to a tall, +stern-visaged man, who was slowly pacing the leeward side of the +quarter-deck. As I touched my hat he eyed me sternly:-- + +"So ho! Another young suckling. The service is going to the devil. +Nothing but babes in the cockpit and grannies in the board. Boatswain's +mate, pass the word for Mr. Cheek!" + +Mr. Cheek, the steward, appeared and touched his hat. "Introduce Mr. +Breezy to the young gentlemen. Stop! Where's Mr. Swizzle?" + +"At the masthead, sir." + +"Where's Mr. Lankey?" + +"At the masthead, sir." + +"Mr. Briggs?" + +"Masthead, too, sir." + +"And the rest of the young gentlemen?" roared the enraged officer. + +"All masthead, sir." + +"Ah!" said Captain Boltrope, as he smiled grimly, "under the +circumstances, Mr. Breezy, you had better go to the masthead too." + + + +CHAPTER III. + +At the masthead I made the acquaintance of two youngsters of about my +own age, one of whom informed me that he had been there three hundred +and thirty-two days out of the year. + +"In rough weather, when the old cock is out of sorts, you know, we +never come down," added a young gentleman of nine years, with a dirk +nearly as long as himself, who had been introduced to me as Mr. Briggs. +"By the way, Pills," he continued, "how did you come to omit giving the +captain a naval salute?" + +"Why, I touched my hat," I said, innocently. + +"Yes, but that isn't enough, you know. That will do very well at other +times. He expects the naval salute when you first come on +board--greeny!" + +I began to feel alarmed, and begged him to explain. + +"Why, you see, after touching your hat, you should have touched him +lightly with your forefinger in his waistcoat, so, and asked, 'How's +his nibs?'--you see?" + +"How's his nibs?" I repeated. + +"Exactly. He would have drawn back a little, and then you should have +repeated the salute remarking, 'How's his royal nibs?' asking +cautiously after his wife and family, and requesting to be introduced +to the gunner's daughter." + +"The gunner's daughter?" + +"The same; you know she takes care of us young gentlemen; now don't +forget, Pillsy!" + +When we were called down to the deck I thought it a good chance to +profit by this instruction. I approached Captain Boltrope and repeated +the salute without conscientiously omitting a single detail. He +remained for a moment, livid and speechless. At length he gasped out:-- + +"Boatswain's mate?" + +"If you please, sir," I asked, tremulously, "I should like to be +introduced to the gunner's daughter!" + +"O, very good, sir!" screamed Captain Boltrope, rubbing his hands and +absolutely capering about the deck with rage. "O d--n you! Of course +you shall! O ho! the gunner's daughter! O, h--ll! this is too much! +Boatswain's mate!" Before I well knew where I was, I was seized, borne +to an eight-pounder, tied upon it and flogged! + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +As we sat together in the cockpit, picking the weevils out of our +biscuit, Briggs consoled me for my late mishap, adding that the "naval +salute," as a custom, seemed just then to be honored more in the BREACH +than the observance. I joined in the hilarity occasioned by the +witticism, and in a few moments we were all friends. Presently Swizzle +turned to me:-- + +"We have been just planning how to confiscate a keg of claret, which +Nips, the purser, keeps under his bunk. The old nipcheese lies there +drunk half the day, and there's no getting at it." + +"Let's get beneath the state-room and bore through the deck, and so tap +it," said Lankey. + +The proposition was received with a shout of applause. A long +half-inch auger and bit was procured from Chips, the carpenter's mate, +and Swizzle, after a careful examination of the timbers beneath the +ward-room, commenced operations. The auger at last disappeared, when +suddenly there was a slight disturbance on the deck above. Swizzle +withdrew the auger hurriedly; from its point a few bright red drops +trickled. + +"Huzza! send her up again!" cried Lankey. + +The auger was again applied. This time a shriek was heard from the +purser's cabin. Instantly the light was doused, and the party +retreated hurriedly to the cockpit. A sound of snoring was heard as +the sentry stuck his head into the door. "All right, sir," he replied +in answer to the voice of the officer of the deck. + +The next morning we heard that Nips was in the surgeon's hands, with a +bad wound in the fleshy part of his leg, and that the auger had NOT +struck claret. + + + +CHAPTER V. + +"Now, Pills, you'll have a chance to smell powder," said Briggs as he +entered the cockpit and buckled around his waist an enormous cutlass. +"We have just sighted a French ship." + +We went on deck. Captain Boltrope grinned as we touched our hats. He +hated the purser. "Come, young gentlemen, if you're boring for french +claret, yonder's a good quality. Mind your con, sir," he added, +turning to the quartermaster, who was grinning. + +The ship was already cleared for action. The men, in their eagerness, +had started the coffee from the tubs and filled them with shot. +Presently the Frenchman yawed, and a shot from a long thirty-two came +skipping over the water. It killed the quartermaster and took off both +of Lankey's legs. "Tell the purser our account is squared," said the +dying boy, with a feeble smile. + +The fight raged fiercely for two hours. I remember killing the French +Admiral, as we boarded, but on looking around for Briggs, after the +smoke had cleared away, I was intensely amused at witnessing the +following novel sight:-- + +Briggs had pinned the French captain against the mast with his cutlass, +and was now engaged, with all the hilarity of youth, in pulling the +captain's coat-tails between his legs, in imitation of a dancing-jack. +As the Frenchman lifted his legs and arms, at each jerk of Briggs's, I +could not help participating in the general mirth. + +"You young devil, what are you doing?" said a stifled voice behind me. +I looked up and beheld Captain Boltrope, endeavoring to calm his stern +features, but the twitching around his mouth betrayed his intense +enjoyment of the scene. "Go to the masthead--up with you, sir!" he +repeated sternly to Briggs. + +"Very good, sir," said the boy, coolly preparing to mount the shrouds. +"Good by, Johnny Crapaud. Humph!" he added, in a tone intended for my +ear, "a pretty way to treat a hero. The service is going to the devil!" + +I thought so too. + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +We were ordered to the West Indies. Although Captain Boltrope's manner +toward me was still severe, and even harsh, I understood that my name +had been favorably mentioned in the despatches. + +Reader, were you ever at Jamaica? If so, you remember the negresses, +the oranges, Port Royal Tom--the yellow fever. After being two weeks +at the station, I was taken sick of the fever. In a month I was +delirious. During my paroxysms, I had a wild distempered dream of a +stern face bending anxiously over my pillow, a rough hand smoothing my +hair, and a kind voice saying:-- + +"Bess his 'ittle heart! Did he have the naughty fever?" This face +seemed again changed to the well-known stern features of Captain +Boltrope. + +When I was convalescent, a packet edged in black was put in my hand. +It contained the news of my father's death, and a sealed letter which +he had requested to be given to me on his decease. I opened it +tremblingly. It read thus:-- + + +"My dear Boy:--I regret to inform you that in all probability you are +not my son. Your mother, I am grieved to say, was a highly improper +person. Who your father may be, I really cannot say, but perhaps the +Honorable Henry Boltrope, Captain R. N., may be able to inform you. +Circumstances over which I have no control have deferred this important +disclosure. + +"YOUR STRICKEN PARENT." + + +And so Captain Boltrope was my father. Heavens! Was it a dream? I +recalled his stern manner, his observant eye, his ill-concealed +uneasiness when in my presence. I longed to embrace him. Staggering to +my feet, I rushed in my scanty apparel to the deck, where Captain +Boltrope was just then engaged in receiving the Governor's wife and +daughter. The ladies shrieked; the youngest, a beautiful girl, blushed +deeply. Heeding them not, I sank at his feet, and, embracing them, +cried:-- + +"My father!" + +"Chuck him overboard!" roared Captain Boltrope. + +"Stay," pleaded the soft voice of Clara Maitland, the Governor's +daughter. + +"Shave his head! he's a wretched lunatic!" continued Captain Boltrope, +while his voice trembled with excitement. + +"No, let me nurse and take care of him," said the lovely girl, blushing +as she spoke. "Mamma, can't we take him home?" + +The daughter's pleading was not without effect. In the mean time I had +fainted. When I recovered my senses I found myself in Governor +Maitland's mansion. + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +The reader will guess what followed. I fell deeply in love with Clara +Maitland, to whom I confided the secret of my birth. The generous girl +asserted that she had detected the superiority of my manner at once. +We plighted our troth, and resolved to wait upon events. + +Briggs called to see me a few days afterward. He said that the purser +had insulted the whole cockpit, and all the midshipmen had called him +out. But he added thoughtfully: "I don't see how we can arrange the +duel. You see there are six of us to fight him." + +"Very easily," I replied. "Let your fellows all stand in a row, and +take his fire; that, you see, gives him six chances to one, and he must +be a bad shot if he can't hit one of you; while, on the other hand, you +see, he gets a volley from you six, and one of you'll be certain to +fetch him." + +"Exactly"; and away Briggs went, but soon returned to say that the +purser had declined,--"like a d--d coward," he added. + +But the news of the sudden and serious illness of Captain Boltrope put +off the duel. I hastened to his bedside, but too late,--an hour +previous he had given up the ghost. + +I resolved to return to England. I made known the secret of my birth, +and exhibited my adopted father's letter to Lady Maitland, who at once +suggested my marriage with her daughter, before I returned to claim the +property. We were married, and took our departure next day. + +I made no delay in posting at once, in company with my wife and my +friend Briggs, to my native village. Judge of my horror and surprise +when my late adopted father came out of his shop to welcome me. + +"Then you are not dead!" I gasped. + +"No, my dear boy." + +"And this letter?" + +My father--as I must still call him--glanced on the paper, and +pronounced it a forgery. Briggs roared with laughter. I turned to him +and demanded an explanation. + +"Why, don't you see, Greeny, it's all a joke,--a midshipman's joke!" + +"But--" I asked. + +"Don't be a fool. You've got a good wife,--be satisfied." + +I turned to Clara, and was satisfied. Although Mrs. Maitland never +forgave me, the jolly old Governor laughed heartily over the joke, and +so well used his influence that I soon became, dear reader, Admiral +Breezy, K. C. B. + + + + +JOHN JENKINS; + +OR, + +THE SMOKER REFORMED. + +BY T. S. A--TH--R. + + + +CHAPTER I. + +"One cigar a day!" said Judge Boompointer. + +"One cigar a day!" repeated John Jenkins, as with trepidation he +dropped his half-consumed cigar under his work-bench. + +"One cigar a day is three cents a day," remarked Judge Boompointer, +gravely; "and do you know, sir, what one cigar a day, or three cents a +day, amounts to in the course of four years?" + +John Jenkins, in his boyhood, had attended the village school, and +possessed considerable arithmetical ability. Taking up a shingle which +lay upon his work-bench, and producing a piece of chalk, with a feeling +of conscious pride he made an exhaustive calculation. + +"Exactly forty-three dollars and eighty cents," he replied, wiping the +perspiration from his heated brow, while his face flushed with honest +enthusiasm. + +"Well, sir, if you saved three cents a day, instead of wasting it, you +would now be the possessor of a new suit of clothes, an illustrated +Family Bible, a pew in the church, a complete set of Patent Office +Reports, a hymn-book, and a paid subscription to Arthur's Home +Magazine, which could be purchased for exactly forty-three dollars and +eighty cents; and," added the Judge, with increasing sternness, "if you +calculate leap-year, which you seem to have strangely omitted, you have +three cents more, sir; THREE CENTS MORE! What would that buy you, sir?" + +"A cigar," suggested John Jenkins; but, coloring again deeply, he hid +his face. + +"No, sir," said the Judge, with a sweet smile of benevolence stealing +over his stern features; "properly invested, it would buy you that +which passeth all price. Dropped into the missionary-box, who can tell +what heathen, now idly and joyously wantoning in nakedness and sin, +might be brought to a sense of his miserable condition, and made, +through that three cents, to feel the torments of the wicked?" + +With these words the Judge retired, leaving John Jenkins buried in +profound thought. "Three cents a day," he muttered. "In forty years I +might be worth four hundred and thirty-eight dollars and ten +cents,--and then I might marry Mary. Ah, Mary!" The young carpenter +sighed, and, drawing a twenty-five cent daguerreotype from his +vest-pocket, gazed long and fervidly upon the features of a young girl +in book muslin and a coral necklace. Then, with a resolute expression, +he carefully locked the door of his workshop and departed. + +Alas! his good resolutions were too late. We trifle with the tide of +fortune which too often nips us in the bud and casts the dark shadow of +misfortune over the bright lexicon of youth! That night the +half-consumed fragment of John Jenkins's cigar set fire to his workshop +and burned it up, together with all his tools and materials. There was +no insurance. + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE DOWNWARD PATH. + +"Then you still persist in marrying John Jenkins?" queried Judge +Boompointer, as he playfully, with paternal familiarity, lifted the +golden curls of the village belle, Mary Jones. + +"I do," replied the fair young girl, in a low voice, that resembled +rock candy in its saccharine firmness,--"I do. He has promised to +reform. Since he lost all his property by fire--" + +"The result of his pernicious habit, though he illogically persists in +charging it to me," interrupted the Judge. + +"Since then," continued the young girl, "he has endeavored to break +himself of the habit. He tells me that he has substituted the stalks +of the Indian ratan, the outer part of a leguminous plant called the +smoking-bean, and the fragmentary and unconsumed remainder of cigars +which occur at rare and uncertain intervals along the road, which, as +he informs me, though deficient in quality and strength, are +comparatively inexpensive." And, blushing at her own eloquence, the +young girl hid her curls on the Judge's arm. + +"Poor thing!" muttered Judge Boompointer. "Dare I tell her all? Yet I +must." + +"I shall cling to him," continued the young girl, rising with her +theme, "as the young vine clings to some hoary ruin. Nay, nay, chide +me not, Judge Boompointer. I will marry John Jenkins!" + +The Judge was evidently affected. Seating himself at the table, he +wrote a few lines hurriedly upon a piece of paper, which he folded and +placed in the fingers of the destined bride of John Jenkins. + +"Mary Jones," said the Judge, with impressive earnestness, "take this +trifle as a wedding gift from one who respects your fidelity and +truthfulness. At the altar let it be a reminder of me." And covering +his face hastily with a handkerchief, the stern and iron-willed man +left the room. As the door closed, Mary unfolded the paper. It was an +order on the corner grocery for three yards of flannel, a paper of +needles, four pounds of soap, one pound of starch, and two boxes of +matches! + +"Noble and thoughtful man!" was all Mary Jones could exclaim, as she +hid her face in her hands and burst into a flood of tears. + + * * * * * + +The bells of Cloverdale are ringing merrily. It is a wedding. "How +beautiful they look!" is the exclamation that passes from lip to lip, +as Mary Jones, leaning timidly on the arm of John Jenkins, enters the +church. But the bride is agitated, and the bridegroom betrays a +feverish nervousness. As they stand in the vestibule, John Jenkins +fumbles earnestly in his vest-pocket. Can it be the ring he is anxious +about? No. He draws a small brown substance from his pocket, and +biting off a piece, hastily replaces the fragment and gazes furtively +around. Surely no one saw him? Alas! the eyes of two of that wedding +party saw the fatal act. Judge Boompointer shook his head sternly. +Mary Jones sighed and breathed a silent prayer. Her husband chewed! + + + +CHAPTER III. + +AND LAST. + +"What! more bread?" said John Jenkins, gruffly. "You're always asking +for money for bread. D--nation! Do you want to ruin me by your +extravagance?" and as he uttered these words he drew from his pocket a +bottle of whiskey, a pipe, and a paper of tobacco. Emptying the first +at a draught, he threw the empty bottle at the head of his eldest boy, +a youth of twelve summers. The missile struck the child full in the +temple, and stretched him a lifeless corpse. Mrs. Jenkins, whom the +reader will hardly recognize as the once gay and beautiful Mary Jones, +raised the dead body of her son in her arms, and carefully placing the +unfortunate youth beside the pump in the back yard, returned with +saddened step to the house. At another time, and in brighter days, she +might have wept at the occurrence. She was past tears now. + +"Father, your conduct is reprehensible!" said little Harrison Jenkins, +the youngest boy. "Where do you expect to go when you die?" + +"Ah!" said John Jenkins, fiercely; "this comes of giving children a +liberal education; this is the result of Sabbath schools. Down, viper!" + +A tumbler thrown from the same parental fist laid out the youthful +Harrison cold. The four other children had, in the mean time, gathered +around the table with anxious expectancy. With a chuckle, the now +changed and brutal John Jenkins produced four pipes, and, filling them +with tobacco, handed one to each of his offspring and bade them smoke. +"It's better than bread!" laughed the wretch hoarsely. + +Mary Jenkins, though of a patient nature, felt it her duty now to +speak. "I have borne much, John Jenkins," she said. "But I prefer +that the children should not smoke. It is an unclean habit, and soils +their clothes. I ask this as a special favor!" + +John Jenkins hesitated,--the pangs of remorse began to seize him. + +"Promise me this, John!" urged Mary upon her knees. + +"I promise!" reluctantly answered John. + +"And you will put the money in a savings-bank?" + +"I will," repeated her husband; "and I'LL give up smoking, too." + +"'Tis well, John Jenkins!" said Judge Boompointer, appearing suddenly +from behind the door, where he had been concealed during this +interview. "Nobly said! my man. Cheer up! I will see that the +children are decently buried." The husband and wife fell into each +other's arms. And Judge Boompointer, gazing upon the affecting +spectacle, burst into tears. + +From that day John Jenkins was an altered man. + + + + +NO TITLE. + +By W--LK--E C--LL--NS. + + +PROLOGUE. + +The following advertisement appeared in the "Times" of the 17th of +June, 1845:-- + + +WANTED.--A few young men for a light genteel employment. + Address J. W., P. O. + + +In the same paper, of same date, in another column:-- + + +TO LET.--That commodious and elegant family mansion, No. 27 Limehouse +Road, Pultneyville, will be rented low to a respectable tenant if +applied for immediately, the family being about to remove to the +continent. + + +Under the local intelligence, in another column:-- + + +MISSING.--An unknown elderly gentleman a week ago left his lodgings in +the Kent Road, since which nothing has been heard of him. He left no +trace of his identity except a portmanteau containing a couple of +shirts marked "209, WARD." + + +To find the connection between the mysterious disappearance of the +elderly gentleman and the anonymous communication, the relevancy of +both these incidents to the letting of a commodious family mansion, and +the dead secret involved in the three occurrences, is the task of the +writer of this history. + +A slim young man with spectacles, a large hat, drab gaiters, and a +note-book, sat late that night with a copy of the "Times" before him, +and a pencil which he rattled nervously between his teeth in the +coffee-room of the "Blue Dragon." + + + +CHAPTER I. + +MARY JONES'S NARRATIVE. + +I am upper housemaid to the family that live at No. 27 Limehouse Road, +Pultneyville. I have been requested by Mr. Wilkey Collings, which I +takes the liberty of here stating is a gentleman born and bred, and has +some consideration for the feelings of servants, and is not above +rewarding them for their trouble, which is more than you can say for +some who ask questions and gets short answers enough, gracious knows, +to tell what I know about them. I have been requested to tell my story +in my own langwidge, though, being no schollard, mind cannot conceive. +I think my master is a brute. Do not know that he has ever attempted to +poison my missus,--which is too good for him, and how she ever came to +marry him, heart only can tell,--but believe him to be capable of any +such hatrosity. Have heard him swear dreadful because of not having his +shaving-water at nine o'clock precisely. Do not know whether he ever +forged a will or tried to get my missus' property, although, not having +confidence in the man, should not be surprised if he had done so. +Believe that there was always something mysterious in his conduct. +Remember distinctly how the family left home to go abroad. Was putting +up my back hair, last Saturday morning, when I heard a ring. Says +cook, "That's missus' bell, and mind you hurry or the master 'ill know +why." Says I, "Humbly thanking you, mem, but taking advice of them as +is competent to give it, I'll take my time." Found missus dressing +herself and master growling as usual. Says missus, quite calm and easy +like, "Mary, we begin to pack to-day." "What for, mem?" says I, taken +aback. "What's that hussy asking?" says master from the bedclothes +quite savage like. "For the Continent--Italy," says missus--"Can you +go Mary?" Her voice was quite gentle and saintlike, but I knew the +struggle it cost, and says I, "With YOU mem, to India's torrid clime, +if required, but with African Gorillas," says I, looking toward the +bed, "never." "Leave the room," says master, starting up and catching +of his bootjack. "Why Charles!" says missus, "how you talk!" affecting +surprise. "Do go Mary," says she, slipping a half-crown into my hand. +I left the room scorning to take notice of the odious wretch's conduct. + +Cannot say whether my master and missus were ever legally married. What +with the dreadful state of morals nowadays and them stories in the +circulating libraries, innocent girls don't know into what society they +might be obliged to take situations. Never saw missus' marriage +certificate, though I have quite accidental-like looked in her desk +when open, and would have seen it. Do not know of any lovers missus +might have had. Believe she had a liking for John Thomas, footman, for +she was always spiteful-like--poor lady--when we were together--though +there was nothing between us, as Cook well knows, and dare not deny, +and missus needn't have been jealous. Have never seen arsenic or +Prussian acid in any of the private drawers--but have seen paregoric +and camphor. One of my master's friends was a Count Moscow, a Russian +papist--which I detested. + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE SLIM YOUNG MAN'S STORY. + +I am by profession a reporter, and writer for the press. I live at +Pultneyville. I have always had a passion for the marvellous, and have +been distinguished for my facility in tracing out mysteries, and +solving enigmatical occurrences. On the night of the 17th June, 1845, +I left my office and walked homeward. The night was bright and +starlight. I was revolving in my mind the words of a singular item I +had just read in the "Times." I had reached the darkest portion of the +road, and found my self mechanically repeating: "An elderly gentleman a +week ago left his lodgings on the Kent Road," when suddenly I heard a +step behind me. + +I turned quickly, with an expression of horror in my face, and by the +light of the newly risen moon beheld an elderly gentleman, with green +cotton umbrella, approaching me. His hair, which was snow white, was +parted over a broad, open forehead. The expression of his face, which +was slightly flushed, was that of amiability verging almost upon +imbecility. There was a strange, inquiring look about the widely +opened mild blue eye,--a look that might have been intensified to +insanity, or modified to idiocy. As he passed me, he paused and partly +turned his face, with a gesture of inquiry. I see him still, his white +locks blowing in the evening breeze, his hat a little on the back of +his head, and his figure painted in relief against the dark blue sky. + +Suddenly he turned his mild eye full upon me. A weak smile played +about his thin lips. In a voice which had something of the +tremulousness of age and the self-satisfied chuckle of imbecility in +it, he asked, pointing to the rising moon, "Why?--hush!" + +He had dodged behind me, and appeared to be looking anxiously down the +road. I could feel his aged frame shaking with terror as he laid his +thin hands upon my shoulders and faced me in the direction of the +supposed danger. + +"Hush! did you not hear them coming?" + +I listened; there was no sound but the soughing of the roadside trees +in the evening wind. I endeavored to reassure him, with such success +that in a few moments the old weak smile appeared on his benevolent +face. + +"Why?--" But the look of interrogation was succeeded by a hopeless +blankness. + +"Why!" I repeated with assuring accents. + +"Why," he said, a gleam of intelligence flickering over his face, "is +yonder moon, as she sails in the blue empyrean, casting a flood of +light o'er hill and dale, like-- Why," he repeated, with a feeble +smile, "is yonder moon, as she sails in the blue empyrean--" He +hesitated,--stammered,--and gazed at me hopelessly, with the tears +dripping from his moist and widely opened eyes. + +I took his hand kindly in my own. "Casting a shadow o'er hill and +dale," I repeated quietly, leading him up the subject, "like-- Come, +now." + +"Ah!" he said, pressing my hand tremulously, "you know it?" + +"I do. Why is it like--the--eh--the commodious mansion on the +Limehouse Road?" + +A blank stare only followed. He shook his head sadly. "Like the young +men wanted for a light, genteel employment?" + +He wagged his feeble old head cunningly. + +"Or, Mr. Ward," I said, with bold confidence, "like the mysterious +disappearance from the Kent Road?" + +The moment was full of suspense. He did not seem to hear me. Suddenly +he turned. + +"Ha!" + +I darted forward. But he had vanished in the darkness. + + + +CHAPTER III. + +NO. 27 LIMEHOUSE ROAD. + +It was a hot midsummer evening. Limehouse Road was deserted save by +dust and a few rattling butchers' carts, and the bell of the muffin and +crumpet man. A commodious mansion, which stood on the right of the +road as you enter Pultneyville, surrounded by stately poplars and a +high fence surmounted by a chevaux de frise of broken glass, looked to +the passing and footsore pedestrian like the genius of seclusion and +solitude. A bill announcing in the usual terms that the house was to +let, hung from the bell at the servants' entrance. + +As the shades of evening closed, and the long shadows of the poplars +stretched across the road, a man carrying a small kettle stopped and +gazed, first at the bill and then at the house. When he had reached +the corner of the fence, he again stopped and looked cautiously up and +down the road. Apparently satisfied with the result of his scrutiny, +he deliberately sat himself down in the dark shadow of the fence, and +at once busied himself in some employment, so well concealed as to be +invisible to the gaze of passers-by. At the end of an hour he retired +cautiously. + +But not altogether unseen. A slim young man, with spectacles and +note-book, stepped from behind a tree as the retreating figure of the +intruder was lost in the twilight, and transferred from the fence to +his note-book the freshly stencilled inscription, "S--T--1860--X." + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +COUNT MOSCOW'S NARRATIVE. + +I am a foreigner. Observe! To be a foreigner in England is to be +mysterious, suspicious, intriguing. M. Collins has requested the +history of my complicity with certain occurrences. It is nothing, bah! +absolutely nothing. + +I write with ease and fluency. Why should I not write? Tra la la? I +am what you English call corpulent. Ha, ha! I am a pupil of +Macchiavelli. I find it much better to disbelieve everything, and to +approach my subject and wishes circuitously, than in a direct manner. +You have observed that playful animal, the cat. Call it, and it does +not come to you directly, but rubs itself against all the furniture in +the room, and reaches you finally--and scratches. Ah, ha, scratches! I +am of the feline species. People call me a villain--bah! + +I know the family, living No. 27 Limehouse Road. I respect the +gentleman,--a fine, burly specimen of your Englishman,--and madame, +charming, ravishing, delightful. When it became known to me that they +designed to let their delightful residence, and visit foreign shores, I +at once called upon them. I kissed the hand of madame. I embraced the +great Englishman. Madame blushed slightly. The great Englishman shook +my hand like a mastiff. + +I began in that dexterous, insinuating manner, of which I am truly +proud. I thought madame was ill. Ah, no. A change, then, was all +that was required. I sat down at the piano and sang. In a few minutes +madame retired. I was alone with my friend. + +Seizing his hand, I began with every demonstration of courteous +sympathy. I do not repeat my words, for my intention was conveyed more +in accent, emphasis, and manner, than speech. I hinted to him that he +had another wife living. I suggested that this was balanced--ha!--by +his wife's lover. That, possibly, he wished to fly; hence the letting +of his delightful mansion. That he regularly and systematically beat +his wife in the English manner, and that she repeatedly deceived me. I +talked of hope, of consolation, of remedy. I carelessly produced a +bottle of strychnine and a small vial of stramonium from my pocket, and +enlarged on the efficiency of drugs. His face, which had gradually +become convulsed, suddenly became fixed with a frightful expression. +He started to his feet, and roared: "You d--d Frenchman!" + +I instantly changed my tactics, and endeavored to embrace him. He +kicked me twice, violently. I begged permission to kiss madame's hand. +He replied by throwing me down stairs. + +I am in bed with my head bound up, and beef-steaks upon my eyes, but +still confident and buoyant. I have not lost faith in Macchiavelli. +Tra la la! as they sing in the opera. I kiss everybody's hands. + + + +CHAPTER V. + +DR. DIGGS'S STATEMENT. + +My name is David Diggs. I am a surgeon, living at No. 9 Tottenham +Court. On the 15th of June, 1854, I was called to see an elderly +gentleman lodging on the Kent Road. Found him highly excited, with +strong febrile symptoms, pulse 120, increasing. Repeated incoherently +what I judged to be the popular form of a conundrum. On closer +examination found acute hydrocephalus and both lobes of the brain +rapidly filling with water. In consultation with an eminent +phrenologist, it was further discovered that all the organs were more +or less obliterated, except that of Comparison. Hence the patient was +enabled to only distinguish the most common points of resemblance +between objects, without drawing upon other faculties, such as Ideality +or Language, for assistance. Later in the day found him +sinking,--being evidently unable to carry the most ordinary conundrum +to a successful issue. Exhibited Tinct. Val., Ext. Opii, and Camphor, +and prescribed quiet and emollients. On the 17th the patient was +missing. + + + +CHAPTER LAST. + +STATEMENT OF THE PUBLISHER. + +On the 18th of June, Mr. Wilkie Collins left a roll of manuscript with +us for publication, without title or direction, since which time he has +not been heard from. In spite of the care of the proof-readers, and +valuable literary assistance, it is feared that the continuity of the +story has been destroyed by some accidental misplacing of chapters +during its progress. How and what chapters are so misplaced, the +publisher leaves to an indulgent public to discover. + + + + +N N. + +BEING A NOVEL IN THE FRENCH PARAGRAPHIC STYLE. + + +--Mademoiselle, I swear to you that I love you. + +--You who read these pages. You who turn your burning eyes upon these +words--words that I trace-- Ah, Heaven! the thought maddens me. + +--I will be calm. I will imitate the reserve of the festive +Englishman, who wears a spotted handkerchief which he calls a Belchio, +who eats biftek, and caresses a bulldog. I will subdue myself like him. + +--Ha! Poto-beer! All right--Goddam! + +--Or, I will conduct myself as the free-born American--the gay Brother +Jonathan! I will whittle me a stick. I will whistle to myself "Yankee +Doodle," and forget my passion in excessive expectoration. + +--Hoho!--wake snakes and walk chalks. + + +The world is divided into two great divisions,--Paris and the +provinces. There is but one Paris. There are several provinces, among +which may be numbered England, America, Russia, and Italy. + +N N. was a Parisian. + +But N N. did not live in Paris. Drop a Parisian in the provinces, and +you drop a part of Paris with him. Drop him in Senegambia, and in +three days he will give you an omelette soufflee, or a pate de foie +gras, served by the neatest of Senegambian filles, whom he will call +Mademoiselle. In three weeks he will give you an opera. + +N N. was not dropped in Senegambia, but in San Francisco,--quite as +awkward. + +They find gold in San Francisco, but they don't understand gilding. + +N N. existed three years in this place. He became bald on the top of +his head, as all Parisians do. Look down from your box at the Opera +Comique, Mademoiselle, and count the bald crowns of the fast young men +in the pit. Ah--you tremble! They show where the arrows of love have +struck and glanced off. + +N N. was also near-sighted, as all Parisians finally become. This is a +gallant provision of Nature to spare them the mortification of +observing that their lady friends grow old. After a certain age every +woman is handsome to a Parisian. + +One day, N N. was walking down Washington street. Suddenly he stopped. + +He was standing before the door of a mantuamaker. Beside the counter, +at the farther extremity of the shop, stood a young and elegantly +formed woman. Her face was turned from N N. He entered. With a +plausible excuse, and seeming indifference, he gracefully opened +conversation with the mantuamaker as only a Parisian can. But he had to +deal with a Parisian. His attempts to view the features of the fair +stranger by the counter were deftly combated by the shop-woman. He was +obliged to retire. + +N N. went home and lost his appetite. He was haunted by the elegant +basque and graceful shoulders of the fair unknown, during the whole +night. + +The next day he sauntered by the mantuamaker. Ah! Heavens! A thrill +ran through his frame, and his fingers tingled with a delicious +electricity. The fair inconnue was there! He raised his hat +gracefully. He was not certain, but he thought that a slight motion of +her faultless bonnet betrayed recognition. He would have wildly darted +into the shop, but just then the figure of the mantuamaker appeared in +the doorway. + +--Did Monsieur wish anything? + +Misfortune! Desperation. N N. purchased a bottle of Prussic acid, a +sack of charcoal, and a quire of pink note-paper, and returned home. +He wrote a letter of farewell to the closely fitting basque, and opened +the bottle of Prussic acid. + +Some one knocked at his door. It was a Chinaman, with his weekly linen. + +These Chinese are docile, but not intelligent. They are ingenious, but +not creative. They are cunning in expedients, but deficient in tact. +In love they are simply barbarous. They purchase their wives openly, +and not constructively by attorney. By offering small sums for their +sweethearts, they degrade the value of the sex. + +Nevertheless, N N. felt he was saved. He explained all to the faithful +Mongolian, and exhibited the letter he had written. He implored him to +deliver it. + +The Mongolian assented. The race are not cleanly or sweet-savored, but +N N. fell upon his neck. He embraced him with one hand, and closed his +nostrils with the other. Through him, he felt he clasped the +close-fitting basque. + +The next day was one of agony and suspense. Evening came, but no +Mercy. N N. lit the charcoal. But, to compose his nerves, he closed +his door and first walked mildly up and down Montgomery Street. When +he returned, he found the faithful Mongolian on the steps. + +--All lity! + +These Chinese are not accurate in their pronunciation. They avoid the +r, like the English nobleman. + +N N. gasped for breath. He leaned heavily against the Chinaman. + +--Then you have seen her, Ching Long? + +--Yes. All lity. She cum. Top side of house. + +The docile barbarian pointed up the stairs, and chuckled. + +--She here--impossible! Ah, Heaven! do I dream? + +--Yes. All lity,--top side of house. Good by, John. + +This is the familiar parting epithet of the Mongolian. It is +equivalent to our au revoir. + +N N. gazed with a stupefied air on the departing servant. + +He placed his hand on his throbbing heart. She here,--alone beneath +this roof. O Heavens, what happiness! + +But how? Torn from her home. Ruthlessly dragged, perhaps, from her +evening devotions, by the hands of a relentless barbarian. Could she +forgive him? + +He dashed frantically up the stairs. He opened the door. She was +standing beside his couch with averted face. + +A strange giddiness overtook him. He sank upon his knees at the +threshold. + +--Pardon, pardon. My angel, can you forgive me? + +A terrible nausea now seemed added to the fearful giddiness. His +utterance grew thick and sluggish. + +--Speak, speak, enchantress. Forgiveness is all I ask. My Love, my +Life! + +She did not answer. He staggered to his feet. As he rose, his eyes +fell on the pan of burning charcoal. A terrible suspicion flashed +across his mind. This giddiness,--this nausea. The ignorance of the +barbarian. This silence. O merciful heavens! she was dying! + +He crawled toward her. He touched her. She fell forward with a +lifeless sound upon the floor. He uttered a piercing shriek, and threw +himself beside her. + + * * * * * + +A file of gendarmes, accompanied by the Chef Burke, found him the next +morning lying lifeless upon the floor. They laughed brutally,--these +cruel minions of the law,--and disengaged his arm from the waist of the +wooden dummy which they had come to reclaim for the mantuamaker. + +Emptying a few bucketfuls of water over his form, they finally +succeeded in robbing him, not only of his mistress, but of that Death +he had coveted without her. + +Ah! we live in a strange world, Messieurs. + + + + +FANTINE. + +AFTER THE FRENCH OF VICTOR HUGO. + + + +PROLOGUE. + +As long as there shall exist three paradoxes, a moral Frenchman, a +religious Atheist, and a believing sceptic; so long, in fact, as +booksellers shall wait--say twenty-five years--for a new gospel; so +long as paper shall remain cheap and ink three sous a bottle, I have no +hesitation in saying that such books as these are not utterly +profitless. + +VICTOR HUGO. + + + +I. + +To be good is to be queer. What is a good man? Bishop Myriel. + +My friend, you will possibly object to this. You will say you know +what a good man is. Perhaps you will say your clergyman is a good man, +for instance. + +Bah! you are mistaken; you are an Englishman, and an Englishman is a +beast. + +Englishmen think they are moral when they are only serious. These +Englishmen also wear ill-shaped hats, and dress horribly! + +Bah! they are canaille. + +Still, Bishop Myriel was a good man,--quite as good as you. Better +than you, in fact. + +One day M. Myriel was in Paris. This angel used to walk about the +streets like any other man. He was not proud, though fine-looking. +Well, three gamins de Paris called him bad names. Says one:-- + +"Ah, mon Dieu! there goes a priest; look out for your eggs and +chickens!" + +What did this good man do? He called to them kindly. + +"My children," said he, "this is clearly not your fault. I recognize +in this insult and irreverence only the fault of your immediate +progenitors. Let us pray for your immediate progenitors." + +They knelt down and prayed for their immediate progenitors. + +The effect was touching. + +The Bishop looked calmly around. + +"On reflection," said he, gravely, "I was mistaken; this is clearly the +fault of Society. Let us pray for Society." + +They knelt down and prayed for Society. + +The effect was sublimer yet. What do you think of that? You, I mean. + +Everybody remembers the story of the Bishop and Mother Nez Retrousse. +Old Mother Nez Retrouse sold asparagus. She was poor; there's a great +deal of meaning in that word, my friend. Some people say "poor but +honest." I say, Bah! + +Bishop Myriel bought six bunches of asparagus. This good man had one +charming failing; he was fond of asparagus. He gave her a franc and +received three sous change. + +The sous were bad,--counterfeit. What did this good Bishop do? He +said: "I should not have taken change from a poor woman." + +Then afterwards, to his housekeeper: "Never take change from a poor +woman." + +Then he added to himself: "For the sous will probably be bad." + + + +II. + +When a man commits a crime, society claps him in prison. A prison is +one of the worst hotels imaginable. The people there are low and +vulgar. The butter is bad, the coffee is green. Ah, it is horrible! + +In prison, as in a bad hotel, a man soon loses, not only his morals, +but what is much worse to a Frenchman, his sense of refinement and +delicacy. + +Jean Valjean came from prison with confused notions of society. He +forgot the modern peculiarities of hospitality. So he walked off with +the Bishop's candlesticks. + +Let us consider: candlesticks were stolen; that was evident. Society +put Jean Valjean in prison; that was evident, too. In prison, Society +took away his refinement; that is evident, likewise. + +Who is Society? + +You and I are Society. + +My friend, you and I stole those candlesticks! + + + +III. + +The Bishop thought so, too. He meditated profoundly for six days. On +the morning of the seventh he went to the Prefecture of Police. + +He said: "Monsieur, have me arrested. I have stolen candlesticks." + +The official was governed by the law of Society, and refused. + +What did this Bishop do? + +He had a charming ball and chain made, affixed to his leg, and wore it +the rest of his life. + +This is a fact! + + + +IV. + +Love is a mystery. + +A little friend of mine down in the country, at Auvergne, said to me +one day: "Victor, Love is the world,--it contains everything." + +She was only sixteen, this sharp-witted little girl, and a beautiful +blonde. She thought everything of me. + +Fantine was one of those women who do wrong in the most virtuous and +touching manner. This is a peculiarity of French grisettes. + +You are an Englishman, and you don't understand. Learn, my friend, +learn. Come to Paris and improve your morals. + +Fantine was the soul of modesty. She always wore high-neck dresses. +High-neck dresses are a sign of modesty. + +Fantine loved Tholmoyes. Why? My God! What are you to do? It was +the fault of her parents, and she hadn't any. How shall you teach her? +You must teach the parent if you wish to educate the child. How would +you become virtuous? + +Teach your grandmother! + + + +V. + +When Tholmoyes ran away from Fantine,--which was done in a charming, +gentlemanly manner,--Fantine became convinced that a rigid sense of +propriety might look upon her conduct as immoral. She was a creature of +sensitiveness,--and her eyes were opened. + +She was virtuous still, and resolved to break off the liaison at once. + +So she put up her wardrobe and baby in a bundle. Child as she was, she +loved them both. Then left Paris. + + + +VI. + +Fantine's native place had changed. + +M. Madeline--an angel, and inventor of jet work--had been teaching the +villagers how to make spurious jet. + +This is a progressive age. Those Americans,--children of the +West,--they make nutmegs out of wood. + +I, myself, have seen hams made of pine, in the wigwams of those +children of the forest. + +But civilization has acquired deception too. Society is made up of +deception. Even the best French society. + +Still there was one sincere episode. + +Eh? + +The French Revolution! + + + +VII. + +M. Madeline was, if anything, better than Myriel. + +M. Myriel was a saint. M. Madeline a good man. + +M. Myriel was dead. M. Madeline was living. + +That made all the difference. + +M. Madeline made virtue profitable. I have seen it written:-- + +"Be virtuous and you will be happy." + +Where did I see this written? In the modern Bible? No. In the Koran? +No. In Rousseau? No. Diderot? No. Where then? + +In a copy-book. + + + +VIII. + +M. Madeline was M. le Maire. + +This is how it came about. + +For a long time he refused the honor. One day an old woman, standing +on the steps, said:-- + +"Bah, a good mayor is a good thing. + +"You are a good thing. + +"Be a good mayor." + +This woman was a rhetorician. She understood inductive ratiocination. + + + +IX. + +When this good M. Madeline, whom the reader will perceive must have +been a former convict, and a very bad man, gave himself up to justice +as the real Jean Valjean, about this same time, Fantine was turned away +from the manufactory, and met with a number of losses from society. +Society attacked her, and this is what she lost:-- + +First her lover. + +Then her child. + +Then her place. + +Then her hair. + +Then her teeth. + +Then her liberty. + +Then her life. + +What do you think of society after that? I tell you the present social +system is a humbug. + + + +X. + +This is necessarily the end of Fantine. There are other things that +will be stated in other volumes to follow. Don't be alarmed; there are +plenty of miserable people left. + +Au revoir--my friend. + + + + +"LA FEMME." + +AFTER THE FRENCH OF M. MICHELET. + + + +I. + +WOMEN AS AN INSTITUTION. + +"If it were not for women, few of us would at present be in existence." +This is the remark of a cautious and discreet writer. He was also +sagacious and intelligent. + +Woman! Look upon her and admire her. Gaze upon her and love her. If +she wishes to embrace you, permit her. Remember she is weak and you +are strong. + +But don't treat her unkindly. Don't make love to another woman before +her face, even if she be your wife. Don't do it. Always be polite, +even should she fancy somebody better than you. + +If your mother, my dear Amadis, had not fancied your father better than +somebody, you might have been that somebody's son. Consider this. +Always be a philosopher, even about women. + +Few men understand women. Frenchmen, perhaps, better than any one +else. I am a Frenchman. + + + +II. + +THE INFANT. + +She is a child--a little thing--an infant. + +She has a mother and father. Let us suppose, for example, they are +married. Let us be moral if we cannot be happy and free--they are +married--perhaps--they love one another--who knows? + +But she knows nothing of this; she is an infant--a small thing--a +trifle! + +She is not lovely at first. It is cruel, perhaps, but she is red, and +positively ugly. She feels this keenly and cries. She weeps. Ah, my +God, how she weeps! Her cries and lamentations now are really +distressing. + +Tears stream from her in floods. She feels deeply and copiously like +M. Alphonse de Lamartine in his Confessions. + +If you are her mother, Madame, you will fancy worms; you will examine +her linen for pins, and what not. Ah, hypocrite! you, even YOU, +misunderstand her. + +Yet she has charming natural impulses. See how she tosses her dimpled +arms. She looks longingly at her mother. She has a language of her +own. She says, "goo goo," and "ga ga." + +She demands something--this infant! + +She is faint, poor thing. She famishes. She wishes to be restored. +Restore her, Mother! + +It is the first duty of a mother to restore her child! + + + +III. + +THE DOLL. + +She is hardly able to walk; she already totters under the weight of a +doll. + +It is a charming and elegant affair. It has pink cheeks and +purple-black hair. She prefers brunettes, for she has already, with +the quick knowledge of a French infant, perceived she is a blonde, and +that her doll cannot rival her. Mon Dieu, how touching! Happy child! +She spends hours in preparing its toilet. She begins to show her taste +in the exquisite details of its dress. She loves it madly, devotedly. +She will prefer it to bonbons. She already anticipates the wealth of +love she will hereafter pour out on her lover, her mother, her father, +and finally, perhaps, her husband. + +This is the time the anxious parent will guide these first outpourings. +She will read her extracts from Michelet's L'Amour, Rousseau's Heloise, +and the Revue des deux Mondes. + + + +IV. + +THE MUD PIE. + +She was in tears to-day. + +She had stolen away from her bonne and was with some rustic infants. +They had noses in the air, and large, coarse hands and feet. + +They had seated themselves around a pool in the road, and were +fashioning fantastic shapes in the clayey soil with their hands. Her +throat swelled and her eyes sparkled with delight as, for the first +time, her soft palms touched the plastic mud. She made a graceful and +lovely pie. She stuffed it with stones for almonds and plums. She +forgot everything. It was being baked in the solar rays, when madame +came and took her away. + +She weeps. It is night, and she is weeping still. + + + +V. + +HER FIRST LOVE. + +She no longer doubts her beauty. She is loved. She saw him secretly. +He is vivacious and sprightly. He is famous. He has already had an +affair with Finfin, the fille de chambre, and poor Finfin is desolate. +He is noble. She knows he is the son of Madame la Baronne Couturiere. +She adores him. + +She affects not to notice him. Poor little thing! Hippolyte is +distracted--annihilated--inconsolable and charming. + +She admires his boots, his cravat, his little gloves his exquisite +pantaloons--his coat, and cane. + +She offers to run away with him. He is transported, but magnanimous. +He is wearied, perhaps. She sees him the next day offering flowers to +the daughter of Madame la Comtesse Blanchisseuse. + +She is again in tears. + +She reads Paul et Virginie. She is secretly transported. When she +reads how the exemplary young woman laid down her life rather than +appear en deshabille to her lover, she weeps again. Tasteful and +virtuous Bernardine de St. Pierre!--the daughters of France admire you! + +All this time her doll is headless in the cabinet. The mud pie is +broken on the road. + + + +VI. + +THE WIFE. + +She is tired of loving and she marries. + +Her mother thinks it, on the whole, the best thing. As the day +approaches, she is found frequently in tears. Her mother will not +permit the affianced one to see her, and he makes several attempts to +commit suicide. + +But something happens. Perhaps it is winter, and the water is cold. +Perhaps there are not enough people present to witness his heroism. + +In this way her future husband is spared to her. The ways of +Providence are indeed mysterious. At this time her mother will talk +with her. She will offer philosophy. She will tell her she was +married herself. + +But what is this new and ravishing light that breaks upon her? The +toilet and wedding clothes! She is in a new sphere. + +She makes out her list in her own charming writing. Here it is. Let +every mother heed it.* + + * * * * * + + * * * * * + +She is married. On the day after, she meets her old lover, Hippolyte. +He is again transported. + + +* The delicate reader will appreciate the omission of certain articles +for which English synonymes are forbidden. + + + +VII. + +HER OLD AGE. + +A Frenchwoman never grows old. + + + + +MARY MCGILLUP. + +A SOUTHERN NOVEL. + +AFTER BELLE BOYD. + +WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY G. A. S--LA. + + + +INTRODUCTION. + +"Will you write me up?" + +The scene was near Temple Bar. The speaker was the famous rebel Mary +McGillup,--a young girl of fragile frame, and long, lustrous black +hair. I must confess that the question was a peculiar one, and, under +the circumstances, somewhat puzzling. It was true I had been kindly +treated by the Northerners, and, though prejudiced against them, was to +some extent under obligations to them. It was true that I knew little +or nothing of American politics, history, or geography. But when did +an English writer ever weigh such trifles? Turning to the speaker, I +inquired with some caution the amount of pecuniary compensation offered +for the work. + +"Sir!" she said, drawing her fragile form to its full height, "you +insult me,--you insult the South." + +"But look ye here, d'ye see--the tin--the blunt--the ready--the stiff; +you know. Don't ye see, we can't do without that, you know!" + +"It shall be contingent on the success of the story," she answered +haughtily. "In the mean time take this precious gem." And drawing a +diamond ring from her finger, she placed it with a roll of MSS. in my +hands and vanished. + +Although unable to procure more than L1 2s. 6 d. from an intelligent +pawnbroker to whom I stated the circumstances and with whom I pledged +the ring, my sympathies with the cause of a downtrodden and chivalrous +people were at once enlisted. I could not help wondering that in rich +England, the home of the oppressed and the free, a young and lovely +woman like the fair author of those pages should be obliged to thus +pawn her jewels--her marriage gift--for the means to procure her bread! +With the exception of the English aristocracy,--who much resemble +them,--I do not know of a class of people that I so much admire as the +Southern planters. May I become better acquainted with both! + +Since writing the above, the news of Mr. Lincoln's assassination has +reached me. It is enough for me to say that I am dissatisfied with the +result. I do not attempt to excuse the assassin. Yet there will be +men who will charge this act upon the chivalrous South. This leads me +to repeat a remark once before made by me in this connection which has +become justly celebrated. It is this:-- + +"It is usual, in cases of murder, to look for the criminal among those +who expect to be benefited by the crime. In the death of Lincoln, his +immediate successor in office alone receives the benefit of his dying." + +If her Majesty Queen Victoria were assassinated, which Heaven forbid, +the one most benefited by her decease would, of course, be his Royal +Highness the Prince of Wales, her immediate successor. It would be +unnecessary to state that suspicion would at once point to the real +culprit, which would of course be his Royal Highness. This is logic. + +But I have done. After having thus stated my opinion in favor of the +South, I would merely remark that there is One who judgeth all +things,--who weigheth the cause between brother and brother,--and +awardeth the perfect retribution; and whose ultimate decision I, as a +British subject, have only anticipated. + +G. A. S. + + + +CHAPTER I. + +Every reader of Belle Boyd's narrative will remember an allusion to a +"lovely, fragile-looking girl of nineteen," who rivalled Belle Boyd in +devotion to the Southern cause, and who, like her, earned the enviable +distinction of being a "rebel spy." + +I am that "fragile" young creature. Although on friendly terms with +the late Miss Boyd, now Mrs. Hardinge, candor compels me to state that +nothing but our common politics prevents me from exposing the +ungenerous spirit she has displayed in this allusion. To be dismissed +in a single paragraph after years of-- But I anticipate. To put up +with this feeble and forced acknowledgment of services rendered would +be a confession of a craven spirit, which, thank God, though "fragile" +and only "nineteen," I do not possess. I may not have the "blood of a +Howard" in my veins, as some people, whom I shall not disgrace myself +by naming, claim to have, but I have yet to learn that the race of +McGillup ever yet brooked slight or insult. I shall not say that +attention in certain quarters seems to have turned SOME PEOPLE'S heads; +nor that it would have been more delicate if certain folks had kept +quiet on the subject of their courtship, and the rejection of certain +offers, when it is known that their forward conduct was all that +procured them a husband! Thank heaven, the South has some daughters +who are above such base considerations! While nothing shall tempt me +to reveal the promises to share equally the fame of certain +enterprises, which were made by one who shall now be nameless, I have +deemed it only just to myself to put my own adventures upon record. If +they are not equal to those of another individual, it is because, +though "fragile," my education has taught me to have some consideration +for the truth. I am done. + + + +CHAPTER II. + +I was born in Missouri. My dislike for the Northern scum was inherent. +This was shown, at an early age, in the extreme distaste I exhibited +for Webster's spelling-book,--the work of a well-known Eastern +Abolitionist. I cannot be too grateful for the consideration shown by +my chivalrous father,--a gentleman of the old school,--who resisted to +the last an attempt to introduce Mitchell's Astronomy and Geography +into the public school of our district. When I state that this same +Mitchell became afterward a hireling helot in the Yankee Army, every +intelligent reader will appreciate the prophetic discrimination of this +true son of the South. + +I was eight years old when I struck the first blow for Southern freedom +against the Northern Tyrant. It is hardly necessary to state that in +this instance the oppressor was a pale, overworked New England +"schoolmarm." The principle for which I was contending, I felt, +however, to be the same. Resenting an affront put upon me, I one day +heaved a rock* at the head of the Vandal schoolmistress. I was seized +and overpowered. My pen falters as I reach the climax. English +readers will not give credit to this sickening story,--the civilized +world will avert its head,--but I, Mary McGillup, was publicly SPANKED! + + +* NOTE, BY G. A. S.--In the Southwest, any stone larger than a pea is +termed "a rock." + + + +CHAPTER III. + +But the chaotic vortex of civil war approached, and fell destruction, +often procrastinated, brooded in storm.* As the English people may +like to know what was really the origin of the rebellion, I have no +hesitation in giving them the true and only cause. Slavery had nothing +to do with it, although the violation of the Declaration of +Independence, in the disregard by the North of the Fugitive Slave +Law,** might have provoked a less fiery people than the Southrons. At +the inception of the struggle a large amount of Southern indebtedness +was held by the people of the North. To force payment from the +generous but insolvent debtor--to obtain liquidation from the Southern +planter--was really the soulless and mercenary object of the craven +Northerners. Let the common people of England look to this. Let the +improvident literary hack; the starved impecunious Grub Street debtor; +the newspaper frequenter of sponging-houses, remember this in their +criticisms of the vile and slavish Yankee. + + +* I make no pretension to fine writing, but perhaps Mrs. Hardinge can +lay over that. O, of course! M. McG. + +** The Declaration of Independence grants to each subject "the pursuit +of life, liberty, and happiness." A fugitive slave may be said to +personify "life, liberty, and happiness." Hence his pursuit is really +legal. This is logic. G. A. S. + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +The roasting of an Abolitionist, by a greatly infuriated community, was +my first taste of the horrors of civil war. Heavens! Why will the +North persist in this fratricidal warfare? The expulsion of several +Union refugees, which soon followed, now fairly plunged my beloved +State in the seething vortex. + +I was sitting at the piano one afternoon, singing that stirring +refrain, so justly celebrated, but which a craven spirit, unworthy of +England, has excluded from some of her principal restaurants, and was +dwelling with some enthusiasm on the following line:-- + + + "Huzza! she spurns the Northern scum!" + + +when a fragment of that scum, clothed in that detestable blue uniform +which is the symbol of oppression, entered the apartment. "I have the +honor of addressing the celebrated rebel spy, Miss McGillup," said the +Vandal officer. + +In a moment I was perfectly calm. With the exception of slightly +expectorating twice in the face of the minion, I did not betray my +agitation. Haughtily, yet firmly, I replied:-- + +"I am." + +"You looked as if you might be," the brute replied, as he turned on his +heel to leave the apartment. + +In an instant I threw myself before him. "You shall not leave here +thus," I shrieked, grappling him with an energy which no one, seeing my +frail figure, would have believed. "I know the reputation of your +hireling crew. I read your dreadful purpose in your eye. Tell me not +that your designs are not sinister. You came here to insult me,--to +kiss me, perhaps. You sha'n't,--you naughty man. Go away!" + +The blush of conscious degradation rose to the cheek of the Lincoln +hireling as he turned his face away from mine. + +In an instant I drew my pistol from my belt, which, in anticipation of +some such outrage, I always carried, and shot him. + + + +CHAPTER V. + + "Thy forte was less to act than speak, + Maryland! + Thy politics were changed each week, + Maryland! + With Northern Vandals thou wast meek, + With sympathizers thou wouldst shriek, + I know thee--O, 'twas like thy cheek! + Maryland! my Maryland!" + + +After committing the act described in the preceding chapter, which +every English reader will pardon, I went up stairs, put on a clean pair +of stockings, and, placing a rose in my lustrous black hair, proceeded +at once to the camp of Generals Price and Mosby to put them in +possession of information which would lead to the destruction of a +portion of the Federal Army. During a great part of my flight I was +exposed to a running fire from the Federal pickets of such coarse +expressions as, "Go it, Sally Reb," "Dust it, my Confederate beauty," +but I succeeded in reaching the glorious Southern camp uninjured. + +In a week afterwards I was arrested, by a lettre de cachet of Mr. +Stanton, and placed in the Bastile. British readers of my story will +express surprise at these terms, but I assure them that not only these +articles but tumbrils, guillotines, and conciergeries were in active +use among the Federals. If substantiation be required, I refer to the +Charleston Mercury, the only reliable organ, next to the New York Daily +News, published in the country. At the Bastile I made the acquaintance +of the accomplished and elegant author of Guy Livingstone,* to whom I +presented a curiously carved thigh-bone of a Union officer, and from +whom I received the following beautiful acknowledgment:-- + + +"Demoiselle:--Should I ever win hame to my ain countrie, I make mine +avow to enshrine in my reliquaire this elegant bijouterie and offering +of La Belle Rebelle. Nay, methinks this fraction of man's anatomy were +some compensation for the rib lost by the 'grand old gardener,' Adam." + + +* The recent conduct of Mr. Livingstone renders him unworthy of my +notice. His disgusting praise of Belle Boyd, and complete ignoring of +my claims, show the artfulness of some females and puppyism of some +men. M. McG. + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +Released at last from durance vile and placed on board of an Erie +canal-boat, on my way to Canada, I for a moment breathed the sweets of +liberty. Perhaps the interval gave me opportunity to indulge in +certain reveries which I had hitherto sternly dismissed. Henry +Breckinridge Folair, a consistent copperhead, captain of the +canal-boat, again and again pressed that suit I had so often rejected. + +It was a lovely moonlight night. We sat on the deck of the gliding +craft. The moonbeam and the lash of the driver fell softly on the +flanks of the off horse, and only the surging of the tow-rope broke the +silence. Folair's arm clasped my waist. I suffered it to remain. +Placing in my lap a small but not ungrateful roll of checkerberry +lozenges, he took the occasion to repeat softly in my ear the words of +a motto he had just unwrapped--with its graceful covering of the tissue +paper--from a sugar almond. The heart of the wicked little rebel, Mary +McGillup, was won! + +The story of Mary McGillup is done. I might have added the journal of +my husband, Henry Breckinridge Folair, but as it refers chiefly to his +freights, and a schedule of his passengers, I have been obliged, +reluctantly, to suppress it. + +It is due to my friends to say that I have been requested not to write +this book. Expressions have reached my ears, the reverse of +complimentary. I have been told that its publication will probably +insure my banishment for life. Be it so. If the cause for which I +labored have been subserved, I am content. + +LONDON, May, 1865. + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Condensed Novels, by Bret Harte + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CONDENSED NOVELS *** + +***** This file should be named 2277.txt or 2277.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/7/2277/ + +Produced by an anonymous Project Gutenberg volunteer. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + +CONDENSED NOVELS + +by BRET HARTE + + + + +Contents: +HANDSOME IS AS HANDSOME DOES +LOTHOW, or THE ADVENTURES OF A YOUNG GENTLEMAN IN SEARCH OF A RELIGION +MUCK-A-MUCK, A MODERN INDIAN NOVEL, AFTER JAMES FENIMORE COOPER +TERENCE DENVILLE +SELINA SEDILIA +THE NINETY-NINE GUARDSMEN [AFTER THE THREE MUSKETEERS, BY DUMAS] +MISS MIX [AFTER CHARLOTTE BRONTE] +GUY HEAVYSTONE; OR, "ENTIRE." +MR. MIDSHIPMAN BREEZY +JOHN JENKINS; OR, THE SMOKER REFORMED +NO TITLE [AFTER WILKE COLLINS] + Contains: + MARY JONES'S NARRATIVE + THE SLIM YOUNG MAN'S STORY + NO. 27 LIMEHOUSE ROAD + COUNT MOSCOW'S NARRATIVE + DR. DIGGS'S STATEMENT + +MARY MCGILLUP, A SOUTHERN NOVEL, AFTER BELLE BOYD + + + + + +HANDSOME IS AS HANDSOME DOES. + +BY CH--S R--DE. + + +CHAPTER I. + + +The Dodds were dead. For twenty year they had slept under the +green graves of Kittery churchyard. The townfolk still spoke of +them kindly. The keeper of the alehouse, where David had smoked +his pipe, regretted him regularly, and Mistress Kitty, Mrs. Dodd's +maid, whose trim figure always looked well in her mistress's gowns, +was inconsolable. The Hardins were in America. Raby was +aristocratically gouty; Mrs. Raby, religious. Briefly, then, we +have disposed of-- + +1. Mr. and Mrs. Dodd (dead). + +2. Mr. and Mrs. Hardin (translated). + +3. Raby, baron et femme. (Yet I don't know about the former; he +came of a long-lived family, and the gout is an uncertain disease.) + +We have active at the present writing (place aux dames)-- + +1. Lady Caroline Coventry, niece of Sir Frederick. + +2. Faraday Huxley Little, son of Henry and Grace Little, deceased. + +Sequitur to the above, A HERO AND HEROINE. + + +CHAPTER II. + + +On the death of his parents, Faraday Little was taken to Raby Hall. +In accepting his guardianship, Mr. Raby struggled stoutly against +two prejudices: Faraday was plain-looking and sceptical. + +"Handsome is as handsome does, sweetheart," pleaded Jael, +interceding for the orphan with arms that were still beautiful. +"Dear knows, it is not his fault if he does not look like--his +father," she added with a great gulp. Jael was a woman, and +vindicated her womanhood by never entirely forgiving a former +rival. + +"It's not that alone, madam," screamed Raby, "but, d--m it, the +little rascal's a scientist,--an atheist, a radical, a scoffer! +Disbelieves in the Bible, ma'am; is full of this Darwinian stuff +about natural selection and descent. Descent, forsooth! In my +day, madam, gentlemen were content to trace their ancestors back to +gentlemen, and not to--monkeys!" + +"Dear heart, the boy is clever," urged Jael. + +"Clever!" roared Raby; "what does a gentleman want with +cleverness?" + + +CHAPTER III. + + +Young Little WAS clever. At seven he had constructed a telescope; +at nine, a flying-machine. At ten he saved a valuable life. + +Norwood Park was the adjacent estate,--a lordly domain dotted with +red deer and black trunks, but scrupulously kept with gravelled +roads as hard and blue as steel. There Little was strolling one +summer morning, meditating on a new top with concealed springs. At +a little distance before him he saw the flutter of lace and +ribbons. A young lady, a very young lady,--say of seven summers,-- +tricked out in the crying abominations of the present fashion, +stood beside a low bush. Her nursery-maid was not present, +possibly owing to the fact that John the footman was also absent. + +Suddenly Little came towards her. "Excuse me, but do you know what +those berries are?" He was pointing to the low bush filled with +dark clusters of shining--suspiciously shining--fruit. + +"Certainly; they are blueberries." + +"Pardon me; you are mistaken. They belong to quite another +family." + +Miss Impudence drew herself up to her full height (exactly three +feet nine and a half inches), and, curling an eight of an inch of +scarlet lip, said, scornfully. "YOUR family, perhaps." + +Faraday Little smiled in the superiority of boyhood over girlhood. + +"I allude to the classification. That plant is the belladonna, or +deadly nightshade. Its alkaloid is a narcotic poison." + +Sauciness turned pale. "I--have--just--eaten--some!" And began to +whimper. "O dear, what shall I do?" Then did it, i. e. wrung her +small fingers and cried. + +"Pardon me one moment." Little passed his arm around her neck, and +with his thumb opened widely the patrician-veined lids of her sweet +blue eyes. "Thank Heaven, there is yet no dilation of the pupil; +it is not too late!" He cast a rapid glance around. The nozzle +and about three feet of garden hose lay near him. + +"Open your mouth, quick!" + +It was a pretty, kissable mouth. But young Little meant business. +He put the nozzle down her pink throat as far as it would go. + +"Now, don't move." + +He wrapped his handkerchief around a hoopstick. Then he inserted +both in the other end of the stiff hose. It fitted snugly. He +shoved it in and then drew it back. + +Nature abhors a vacuum. The young patrician was as amenable to +this law as the child of the lowest peasant. + +She succumbed. It was all over in a minute. Then she burst into a +small fury. + +"You nasty, bad--UGLY boy." + +Young Little winced, but smiled. + +"Stimulants," he whispered to the frightened nursery-maid who +approached; "good evening." He was gone. + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +The breach between young Little and Mr. Raby was slowly widening. +Little found objectionable features in the Hall. "This black oak +ceiling and wainscoating is not as healthful as plaster; besides, +it absorbs the light. The bedroom ceiling is too low; the +Elizabethan architects knew nothing of ventilation. The color of +that oak panelling which you admire is due to an excess of carbon +and the exuvia from the pores of your skin--" + +"Leave the house," bellowed Raby, "before the roof falls on your +sacrilegious head!" + +As Little left the house, Lady Caroline and a handsome boy of about +Little's age entered. Lady Caroline recoiled, and then--blushed. +Little glared; he instinctively felt the presence of a rival. + + +CHAPTER V. + + +Little worked hard. He studied night and day. In five years he +became a lecturer, then a professor. + +He soared as high as the clouds, he dipped as low as the cellars of +the London poor. He analyzed the London fog, and found it two +parts smoke, one disease, one unmentionable abominations. He +published a pamphlet, which was violently attacked. Then he knew +he had done something. + +But he had not forgotten Caroline. He was walking one day in the +Zoological Gardens and he came upon a pretty picture,--flesh and +blood too. + +Lady Caroline feeding buns to the bears! An exquisite thrill +passed through his veins. She turned her sweet face and their eyes +met. They recollected their first meeting seven years before, but +it was his turn to be shy and timid. Wonderful power of age and +sex! She met him with perfect self-possession. + +"Well meant, but indigestible I fear" (he alluded to the buns). + +"A clever person like yourself can easily correct that" (she, the +slyboots, was thinking of something else). + +In a few moments they were chatting gayly. Little eagerly +descanted upon the different animals; she listened with delicious +interest. An hour glided delightfully away. + +After this sunshine, clouds. + +To them suddenly entered Mr. Raby and a handsome young man. The +gentlemen bowed stiffly and looked vicious,--as they felt. The +lady of this quartette smiled amiably, as she did not feel. + +"Looking at your ancestors, I suppose," said Mr. Raby, pointing to +the monkeys; "we will not disturb you. Come." And he led +Caroline away. + +Little was heart-sick. He dared not follow them. But an hour +later he saw something which filled his heart with bliss +unspeakable. + +Lady Caroline, with a divine smile on her face, feeding the +monkeys! + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +Encouraged by love, Little worked hard upon his new flying-machine. +His labors were lightened by talking of the beloved one with her +French maid Therese, whom he had discreetly bribed. Mademoiselle +Therese was venal, like all her class, but in this instance I fear +she was not bribed by British gold. Strange as it may seem to the +British mind, it was British genius, British eloquence, British +thought, that brought her to the feet of this young savan. + +"I believe," said Lady Caroline, one day, interrupting her maid in +a glowing eulogium upon the skill of "M. Leetell,"--"I believe you +are in love with this Professor." A quick flush crossed the olive +cheek of Therese, which Lady Caroline afterward remembered. + +The eventful day of trial came. The public were gathered, +impatient and scornful as the pigheaded public are apt to be. In +the open area a long cylindrical balloon, in shape like a Bologna +sausage, swayed above the machine, from which, like some enormous +bird caught in a net, it tried to free itself. A heavy rope held +it fast to the ground. + +Little was waiting for the ballast, when his eye caught Lady +Caroline's among the spectators. The glance was appealing. In a +moment he was at her side. + +"I should like so much to get into the machine," said the arch- +hypocrite, demurely. + +"Are you engaged to marry young Raby," said Little, bluntly. + +"As you please," she said with a courtesy; "do I take this as a +refusal?" + +Little was a gentleman. He lifted her and her lapdog into the car. + +"How nice! it won't go off?" + +"No, the rope is strong, and the ballast is not yet in." + +A report like a pistol, a cry from the spectators, a thousand hands +stretched to grasp the parted rope, and the balloon darted upward. + +Only one hand of that thousand caught the rope,--Little's! But in +the same instant the horror-stricken spectators saw him whirled +from his feet and borne upward, still clinging to the rope, into +space. + + +CHAPTER VII.* + + +* The right of dramatization of this and succeeding chapters is +reserved by the writer. + + +Lady Caroline fainted. The cold watery nose of her dog on her +cheek brought her to herself. She dared not look over the edge of +the car; she dared not look up to the bellying monster above her, +bearing her to death. She threw herself on the bottom of the car, +and embraced the only living thing spared her,--the poodle. Then +she cried. Then a clear voice came apparently out of the +circumambient air:-- + +"May I trouble you to look at the barometer?" + +She put her head over the car. Little was hanging at the end of a +long rope. She put her head back again. + +In another moment he saw her perplexed, blushing face over the +edge,--blissful sight. + +"O, please don't think of coming up! Stay there, do!" + +Little stayed. Of course she could make nothing out of the +barometer, and said so. Little smiled. + +"Will you kindly send it down to me?" + +But she had no string or cord. Finally she said, "Wait a moment." + +Little waited. This time her face did not appear. The barometer +came slowly down at the end of--a stay-lace. + +The barometer showed a frightful elevation. Little looked up at +the valve and said nothing. Presently he heard a sigh. Then a +sob. Then, rather sharply,-- + +"Why don't you do something?" + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +Little came up the rope hand over hand. Lady Caroline crouched in +the farther side of the car. Fido, the poodle, whined. "Poor +thing," said Lady Caroline, "it's hungry." + +"Do you wish to save the dog?" said Little. + +"Yes." + +"Give me your parasol." + +She handed Little a good-sized affair of lace and silk and +whalebone. (None of your "sunshades.") Little examined its ribs +carefully. + +"Give me the dog." + +Lady Caroline hurriedly slipped a note under the dog's collar, and +passed over her pet. + +Little tied the dog to the handle of the parasol and launched them +both into space. The next moment they were slowly, but tranquilly, +sailing to the earth. + +"A parasol and a parachute are distinct, but not different. Be not +alarmed, he will get his dinner at some farm-house." + +"Where are we now?" + +"That opaque spot you see is London fog. Those twin clouds are +North and South America. Jerusalem and Madagascar are those specks +to the right." + +Lady Caroline moved nearer; she was becoming interested. Then she +recalled herself and said freezingly, "How are we going to +descend?" + +"By opening the valve." + +"Why don't you open it then?" + +"BECAUSE THE VALVE-STRING IS BROKEN!" + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +Lady Caroline fainted. When she revived it was dark. They were +apparently cleaving their way through a solid block of black +marble. She moaned and shuddered. + +"I wish we had a light." + +"I have no lucifers," said Little. "I observe, however, that you +wear a necklace of amber. Amber under certain conditions becomes +highly electrical. Permit me." + +He took the amber necklace and rubbed it briskly. Then he asked +her to present her knuckle to the gem. A bright spark was the +result. This was repeated for some hours. The light was not +brilliant, but it was enough for the purposes of propriety, and +satisfied the delicately minded girl. + +Suddenly there was a tearing, hissing noise and a smell of gas. +Little looked up and turned pale. The balloon, at what I shall +call the pointed end of the Bologna sausage, was evidently bursting +from increased pressure. The gas was escaping, and already they +were beginning to descend. Little was resigned but firm. + +"If the silk gives way, then we are lost. Unfortunately I have no +rope nor material for binding it." + +The woman's instinct had arrived at the same conclusion sooner than +the man's reason. But she was hesitating over a detail. + +"Will you go down the rope for a moment?" she said, with a sweet +smile. + +Little went down. Presently she called to him. She held something +in her hand,--a wonderful invention of the seventeenth century, +improved and perfected in this: a pyramid of sixteen circular hoops +of light yet strong steel, attached to each other by cloth bands. + +With a cry of joy Little seized them, climbed to the balloon, and +fitted the elastic hoops over its conical end. Then he returned to +the car. + +"We are saved." + +Lady Caroline, blushing, gathered her slim but antique drapery +against the other end of the car. + + +CHAPTER X. + + +They were slowly descending. Presently Lady Caroline distinguished +the outlines of Raby Hall. "I think I will get out here," she +said. + +Little anchored the balloon and prepared to follow her. + +"Not so, my friend," she said, with an arch smile. "We must not be +seen together. People might talk. Farewell." + +Little sprang again into the balloon and sped away to America. He +came down in California, oddly enough in front of Hardin's door, at +Dutch Flat. Hardin was just examining a specimen of ore. + +"You are a scientist; can you tell me if that is worth anything?" +he said, handing it to Little. + +Little held it to the light. "It contains ninety per cent of +silver." + +Hardin embraced him. "Can I do anything for you, and why are you +here?" + +Little told his story. Hardin asked to see the rope. Then he +examined it carefully. + +"Ah, this was cut, not broken!" + +"With a knife?" asked Little. + +"No. Observe both sides are equally indented. It was done with a +SCISSORS!" + +"Just Heaven!" gasped Little. "Therese!" + + +CHAPTER XI. + + +Little returned to London. Passing through London one day he met a +dog-fancier. "Buy a nice poodle, sir?" + +Something in the animal attracted his attention. "Fido!" he +gasped. + +The dog yelped. + +Little bought him. On taking off his collar a piece of paper +rustled to the floor. He knew the handwriting and kissed it. It +ran:-- + + +"TO THE HON. AUGUSTUS RABY--I cannot marry you. If I marry any +one" (sly puss) "it will be the man who has twice saved my life,-- +Professor Little. + +"CAROLINE COVENTRY." + + +And she did. + + + +LOTHAW; + +OR, + +THE ADVENTURES OF A YOUNG GENTLEMAN IN SEARCH OF A RELIGION. + +BY MR. BENJAMINS. + + +CHAPTER I. + + +"I remember him a little boy," said the Duchess. "His mother was a +dear friend of mine; you know she was one of my bridesmaids." + +"And you have never seen him since, mamma?" asked the oldest +married daughter, who did not look a day older than her mother. + +"Never; he was an orphan shortly after. I have often reproached +myself, but it is so difficult to see boys." + +This simple yet first-class conversation existed in the morning- +room of Plusham, where the mistress of the palatial mansion sat +involved in the sacred privacy of a circle of her married +daughters. One dexterously applied golden knitting-needles to the +fabrication of a purse of floss silk of the rarest texture, which +none who knew the almost fabulous wealth of the Duke would believe +was ever destined to hold in its silken meshes a less sum than +L1,000,000; another adorned a slipper exclusively with seed pearls; +a third emblazoned a page with rare pigments and the finest quality +of gold leaf. Beautiful forms leaned over frames glowing with +embroidery, and beautiful frames leaned over forms inlaid with +mother-of-pearl. Others, more remote, occasionally burst into +melody as they tried the passages of a new and exclusive air given +to them in MS. by some titled and devoted friend, for the private +use of the aristocracy alone, and absolutely prohibited for +publication. + +The Duchess, herself the superlative of beauty, wealth, and +position, was married to the highest noble in the Three Kingdoms. +Those who talked about such matters said that their progeny were +exactly like their parents,--a peculiarity of the aristocratic and +wealthy. They all looked like brothers and sisters, except their +parents, who, such was their purity of blood, the perfection of +their manners, and the opulence of their condition, might have been +taken for their own children's elder son and daughter. The +daughters, with one exception, were all married to the highest +nobles in the land. That exception was the Lady Coriander, who, +there being no vacancy above a marquis and a rental of L1,000,000, +waited. Gathered around the refined and sacred circle of their +breakfast-table, with their glittering coronets, which, in filial +respect to their father's Tory instincts and their mother's +Ritualistic tastes, they always wore on their regal brows, the +effect was dazzling as it was refined. It was this peculiarity and +their strong family resemblance which led their brother-in-law, the +good-humored St. Addlegourd, to say that, "'Pon my soul, you know, +the whole precious mob looked like a ghastly pack of court cards, +you know." St. Addlegourd was a radical. Having a rent-roll of +L15,000,000, and belonging to one of the oldest families in +Britain, he could afford to be. + +"Mamma, I've just dropped a pearl," said the Lady Coriander, +bending over the Persian hearthrug. + +"From your lips, sweet friend," said Lothaw, who came of age and +entered the room at the same moment. + +"No, from my work. It was a very valuable pearl, mamma; papa gave +Isaacs and Sons L50,000 for the two." + +"Ah, indeed," said the Duchess, languidly rising; "let us go to +luncheon." + +"But your Grace," interposed Lothaw, who was still quite young, and +had dropped on all-fours on the carpet in search of the missing +gem, "consider the value--" + +"Dear friend," interposed the Duchess, with infinite tact, gently +lifting him by the tails of his dress-coat, "I am waiting for your +arm." + + +CHAPTER II. + + +Lothaw was immensely rich. The possessor of seventeen castles, +fifteen villas, nine shooting-boxes, and seven town houses, he had +other estates of which he had not even heard. + +Everybody at Plusham played croquet, and none badly. Next to their +purity of blood and great wealth, the family were famous for this +accomplishment. Yet Lothaw soon tired of the game, and after +seriously damaging his aristocratically large foot in an attempt to +"tight croquet" the Lady Aniseed's ball, he limped away to join the +Duchess. + +"I'm going to the hennery," she said. + +"Let me go with you, I dearly love fowls--broiled," he added, +thoughtfully. + +"The Duke gave Lady Montairy some large Cochins the other day," +continued the Duchess, changing the subject with delicate tact. + + + "Lady Montairy, + Quite contrairy, + How do your cochins grow?" + + +sang Lothaw gayly. + +The Duchess looked shocked. After a prolonged silence, Lothaw +abruptly and gravely said:-- + +"If you please, ma'am, when I come into my property I should like +to build some improved dwellings for the poor, and marry Lady +Coriander." + +"You amaze me, dear friend, and yet both your aspirations are noble +and eminently proper," said the Duchess; "Coriander is but a +child,--and yet," she added, looking graciously upon her companion, +"for the matter of that, so are you." + + +CHAPTER III. + + +Mr. Putney Giles's was Lothaw's first grand dinner-party. Yet, by +carefully watching the others, he managed to acquit himself +creditably, and avoided drinking out of the finger-bowl by first +secretly testing its contents with a spoon. The conversation was +peculiar and singularly interesting. + +"Then you think that monogamy is simply a question of the +thermometer?" said Mrs. Putney Giles to her companion. + +"I certainly think that polygamy should be limited by isothermal +lines," replied Lothaw. + +"I should say it was a matter of latitude," observed a loud +talkative man opposite. He was an Oxford Professor with a taste +for satire, and had made himself very obnoxious to the company, +during dinner, by speaking disparagingly of a former well-known +Chancellor of the Exchequer,--a great statesman and brilliant +novelist,--whom he feared and hated. + +Suddenly there was a sensation in the room; among the females it +absolutely amounted to a nervous thrill. His Eminence, the +Cardinal, was announced. He entered with great suavity of manner, +and, after shaking hands with everybody, asking after their +relatives, and chucking the more delicate females under the chin +with a high-bred grace peculiar to his profession, he sat down, +saying, "And how do we all find ourselves this evening, my dears?" +in several different languages, which he spoke fluently. + +Lothaw's heart was touched. His deeply religious convictions were +impressed. He instantly went up to this gifted being, confessed, +and received absolution. "To-morrow," he said to himself, "I will +partake of the communion, and endow the Church with my vast +estates. For the present I'll let the improved cottages go." + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +As Lothaw turned to leave the Cardinal, he was struck by a +beautiful face. It was that of a matron, slim but shapely as an +Ionic column. Her face was Grecian, with Corinthian temples; +Hellenic eyes that looked from jutting eyebrows, like dormer- +windows in an Attic forehead, completed her perfect Athenian +outline. She wore a black frock-coat tightly buttoned over her +bloomer trousers, and a standing collar. + +"Your Lordship is struck by that face," said a social parasite. + +"I am; who is she?" + +"Her name is Mary Ann. She is married to an American, and has +lately invented a new religion" + +"Ah!" said Lothaw eagerly, with difficulty restraining himself from +rushing toward her. + +"Yes; shall I introduce you?" + +Lothaw thought of Lady Coriander's High Church proclivities, of the +Cardinal, and hesitated: "No, I thank you, not now." + + +CHAPTER V. + + +Lothaw was maturing. He had attended two woman's rights +conventions, three Fenian meetings, had dined at White's, and had +danced vis-a-vis to a prince of the blood, and eaten off of gold +plates at Crecy House. + +His stables were near Oxford, and occupied more ground than the +University. He was driving over there one day, when he perceived +some rustics and menials endeavoring to stop a pair of runaway +horses attached to a carriage in which a lady and gentleman were +seated. Calmly awaiting the termination of the accident, with +high-bred courtesy Lothaw forbore to interfere until the carriage +was overturned, the occupants thrown out, and the runaways secured +by the servants, when he advanced and offered the lady the +exclusive use of his Oxford stables. + +Turning upon him a face whose perfect Hellenic details he +remembered, she slowly dragged a gentleman from under the wheels +into the light and presented him with ladylike dignity as her +husband, Major-General Camperdown, an American. + +"Ah," said Lothaw, carelessly, "I believe I have some land there. +If I mistake not, my agent, Mr. Putney Giles, lately purchased the +State of--Illinois--I think you call it." + +"Exactly. As a former resident of the city of Chicago, let me +introduce myself as your tenant." + +Lothaw bowed graciously to the gentleman, who, except that he +seemed better dressed than most Englishmen, showed no other signs +of inferiority and plebeian extraction. + +"We have met before," said Lothaw to the lady as she leaned on his +arm, while they visited his stables, the University, and other +places of interest in Oxford. "Pray tell me, what is this new +religion of yours?" + +"It is Woman Suffrage, Free Love, Mutual Affinity, and Communism. +Embrace it and me." + +Lothaw did not know exactly what to do. She however soothed and +sustained his agitated frame and sealed with an embrace his +speechless form. The General approached and coughed slightly with +gentlemanly tact. + +"My husband will be too happy to talk with you further on this +subject," she said with quiet dignity, as she regained the +General's side. Come with us to Oneida. Brook Farm is a thing of +the past." + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +As Lothaw drove toward his country-seat, "The Mural Enclosure," he +observed a crowd, apparently of the working class, gathered around +a singular-looking man in the picturesque garb of an Ethiopian +serenader. "What does he say?" inquired Lothaw of his driver. + +The man touched his hat respectfully and said, "My Mary Ann." + +"'My Mary Ann!'" Lothaw's heart beat rapidly. Who was this +mysterious foreigner? He had heard from Lady Coriander of a +certain Popish plot; but could he connect Mr. Camperdown with it? + +The spectacle of two hundred men at arms who advanced to meet him +at the gates of The Mural Enclosure drove all else from the still +youthful and impressible mind of Lothaw. Immediately behind them, +on the steps of the baronial halls, were ranged his retainers, led +by the chief cook and bottle-washer, and head crumb-remover. On +either side were two companies of laundry-maids, preceded by the +chief crimper and fluter, supporting a long Ancestral Line, on +which depended the family linen, and under which the youthful lord +of the manor passed into the halls of his fathers. Twenty-four +scullions carried the massive gold and silver plate of the family +on their shoulders, and deposited it at the feet of their master. +The spoons were then solemnly counted by the steward, and the +perfect ceremony ended. + +Lothaw sighed. He sought out the gorgeously gilded "Taj," or +sacred mausoleum erected to his grandfather in the second story +front room, and wept over the man he did not know. He wandered +alone in his magnificent park, and then, throwing himself on a +grassy bank, pondered on the Great First Cause, and the necessity +of religion. "I will send Mary Ann a handsome present," said +Lothaw, thoughtfully. + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +"Each of these pearls, my Lord, is worth fifty thousand guineas," +said Mr. Amethyst, the fashionable jeweler, as he lightly lifted a +large shovelful from a convenient bin behind his counter. + +"Indeed," said Lothaw, carelessly, "I should prefer to see some +expensive ones. + +"Some number sixes, I suppose," said Mr. Amethyst, taking a couple +from the apex of a small pyramid that lay piled on the shelf. +"These are about the size of the Duchess of Billingsgate's, but +they are in finer condition. The fact is, her Grace permits her +two children, the Marquis of Smithfield and the Duke of St. Giles,-- +two sweet pretty boys, my Lord,--to use them as marbles in their +games. Pearls require some attention, and I go down there +regularly twice a week to clean them. Perhaps your Lordship would +like some ropes of pearls?" + +"About half a cable's length," said Lothaw, shortly, "and send them +to my lodgings." + +Mr. Amethyst became thoughtful. "I am afraid I have not the exact +number--that is--excuse me one moment. I will run over to the +Tower and borrow a few from the crown jewels." And before Lothaw +could prevent him, he seized his hat and left Lothaw alone. + +His position certainly was embarrassing. He could not move without +stepping on costly gems which had rolled from the counter; the +rarest diamonds lay scattered on the shelves; untold fortunes in +priceless emeralds lay within his grasp. Although such was the +aristocratic purity of his blood and the strength of his religious +convictions that he probably would not have pocketed a single +diamond, still he could not help thinking that he might he accused +of taking some. "You can search me, if you like," he said when Mr. +Amethyst returned; "but I assure you, upon the honor of a +gentleman, that I have taken nothing." + +"Enough, my Lord," said Mr. Amethyst, with a low bow; "we never +search the aristocracy." + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +As Lothaw left Mr. Amethyst's, he ran against General Camperdown. +"How is Mary Ann?" he asked hurriedly. + +"I regret to state that she is dying," said the general, with a +grave voice, as he removed his cigar from his lips, and lifted his +hat to Lothaw. + +"Dying!" said Lothaw, incredulously. + +"Alas, too true!" replied the General. "The engagements of a long +lecturing season, exposure in travelling by railway during the +winter, and the imperfect nourishment afforded by the refreshments +along the road, have told on her delicate frame. But she wants to +see you before she dies. Here is the key of my lodging. I will +finish my cigar out here." + +Lothaw hardly recognized those wasted Hellenic outlines as he +entered the dimly lighted room of the dying woman. She was already +a classic ruin,--as wrecked and yet as perfect as the Parthenon. +He grasped her hand silently. + +"Open-air speaking twice a week, and saleratus bread in the rural +districts, have brought me to this," she said feebly; "but it is +well. The cause progresses. The tyrant man succumbs." + +Lothaw could only press her hand. + +"Promise me one thing. Don't--whatever you do--become a Catholic." + +"Why?" + +"The Church does not recognize divorce. And now embrace me. I +would prefer at this supreme moment to introduce myself to the next +world through the medium of the best society in this. Good by. +When I am dead, be good enough to inform my husband of the fact." + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +Lothaw spent the next six months on an Aryan island, in an Aryan +climate, and with an Aryan race. + +"This is an Aryan landscape," said his host, "and that is a Mary +Ann statue." It was, in fact, a full-length figure in marble of +Mrs. General Camperdown! + +"If you please, I should like to become a Pagan," said Lothaw, one +day, after listening to an impassioned discourse on Greek art from +the lips of his host. + +But that night, on consulting a well-known spiritual medium, Lothaw +received a message from the late Mrs. General Camperdown, advising +him to return to England. Two days later he presented himself at +Plusham. + +"The young ladies are in the garden," said the Duchess. "Don't you +want to go and pick a rose?" she added with a gracious smile, and +the nearest approach to a wink that was consistent with her +patrician bearing and aquiline nose. + +Lothaw went and presently returned with the blushing Coriander upon +his arm. + +"Bless you, my children," said the Duchess. Then, turning to +Lothaw, she said: "You have simply fulfilled and accepted your +inevitable destiny. It was morally impossible for you to marry out +of this family. For the present, the Church of England is safe." + + + +MUCK-A-MUCK. + +A MODERN INDIAN NOVEL. + +AFTER COOPER. + + +CHAPTER I. + + +It was toward the close of a bright October day. The last rays of +the setting sun were reflected from one of those sylvan lakes +peculiar to the Sierras of California. On the right the curling +smoke of an Indian village rose between the columns of the lofty +pines, while to the left the log cottage of Judge Tompkins, +embowered in buckeyes, completed the enchanting picture. + +Although the exterior of the cottage was humble and unpretentious, +and in keeping with the wildness of the landscape, its interior +gave evidence of the cultivation and refinement of its inmates. An +aquarium, containing goldfishes, stood on a marble centre-table at +one end of the apartment, while a magnificent grand piano occupied +the other. The floor was covered with a yielding tapestry carpet, +and the walls were adorned with paintings from the pencils of Van +Dyke, Rubens, Tintoretto, Michael Angelo, and the productions of +the more modern Turner, Kensett, Church, and Bierstadt. Although +Judge Tompkins had chosen the frontiers of civilization as his +home, it was impossible for him to entirely forego the habits and +tastes of his former life. He was seated in a luxurious arm-chair, +writing at a mahogany ecritoire, while his daughter, a lovely young +girl of seventeen summers, plied her crochet-needle on an ottoman +beside him. A bright fire of pine logs flickered and flamed on the +ample hearth. + +Genevra Octavia Tompkins was Judge Tompkins's only child. Her +mother had long since died on the Plains. Reared in affluence, no +pains had been spared with the daughter's education. She was a +graduate of one of the principal seminaries, and spoke French with +a perfect Benicia accent. Peerlessly beautiful, she was dressed in +a white moire antique robe trimmed with tulle. That simple rosebud +with which most heroines exclusively decorate their hair, was all +she wore in her raven locks. + +The Judge was the first to break the silence. + +"Genevra, the logs which compose yonder fire seem to have been +incautiously chosen. The sibilation produced by the sap, which +exudes copiously therefrom, is not conducive to composition." + +"True, father, but I thought it would be preferable to the constant +crepitation which is apt to attend the combustion of more seasoned +ligneous fragments." + +The Judge looked admiringly at the intellectual features of the +graceful girl, and half forgot the slight annoyances of the green +wood in the musical accents of his daughter. He was smoothing her +hair tenderly, when the shadow of a tall figure, which suddenly +darkened the doorway, caused him to look up. + + +CHAPTER II. + + +It needed but a glance at the new-comer to detect at once the form +and features of the haughty aborigine,--the untaught and +untrammelled son of the forest. Over one shoulder a blanket, +negligently but gracefully thrown, disclosed a bare and powerful +breast, decorated with a quantity of three-cent postage-stamps +which he had despoiled from an Overland Mail stage a few weeks +previous. A cast-off beaver of Judge Tompkins's, adorned by a +simple feather, covered his erect head, from beneath which his +straight locks descended. His right hand hung lightly by his side, +while his left was engaged in holding on a pair of pantaloons, +which the lawless grace and freedom of his lower limbs evidently +could not brook. + +"Why," said the Indian, in a low sweet tone,--"why does the Pale +Face still follow the track of the Red Man? Why does he pursue +him, even as O-kee-chow, the wild-cat, chases Ka-ka, the skunk? +Why are the feet of Sorrel-top, the white chief, among the acorns +of Muck-a-muck, the mountain forest? Why," he repeated, quietly +but firmly abstracting a silver spoon from the table,--"why do you +seek to drive him from the wigwams of his fathers? His brothers +are already gone to the happy hunting-grounds. Will the Pale Face +seek him there?" And, averting his face from the Judge, he hastily +slipped a silver cake-basket beneath his blanket, to conceal his +emotion. + +"Muck-a-Muck has spoken," said Genevra, softly. "Let him now +listen. Are the acorns of the mountain sweeter than the esculent +and nutritious bean of the Pale Face miner? Does my brother prize +the edible qualities of the snail above that of the crisp and +oleaginous bacon? Delicious are the grasshoppers that sport on the +hillside,--are they better than the dried apples of the Pale Faces? +Pleasant is the gurgle of the torrent, Kish-Kish, but is it better +than the cluck-cluck of old Bourbon from the old stone bottle?" + +"Ugh!" said the Indian,--"ugh! good. The White Rabbit is wise. +Her words fall as the snow on Tootoonolo, and the rocky heart of +Muck-a-Muck is hidden. What says my brother the Gray Gopher of +Dutch Flat?" + +"She has spoken, Muck-a-Muck," said the Judge, gazing fondly on his +daughter. "It is well. Our treaty is concluded. No, thank you,-- +you need NOT dance the Dance of Snow Shoes, or the Moccasin Dance, +the Dance of Green Corn, or the Treaty Dance. I would be alone. A +strange sadness overpowers me." + +"I go," said the Indian. "Tell your great chief in Washington, the +Sachem Andy, that the Red Man is retiring before the footsteps of +the adventurous Pioneer. Inform him, if you please, that westward +the star of empire takes its way, that the chiefs of the Pi-Ute +nation are for Reconstruction to a man, and that Klamath will poll +a heavy Republican vote in the fall." + +And folding his blanket more tightly around him, Muck-a-Muck +withdrew. + + +CHAPTER III. + + +Genevra Tompkins stood at the door of the log-cabin, looking after +the retreating Overland Mail stage which conveyed her father to +Virginia City. "He may never return again," sighed the young girl +as she glanced at the frightfully rolling vehicle and wildly +careering horses,--"at least, with unbroken bones. Should he meet +with an accident! I mind me now a fearful legend, familiar to my +childhood. Can it be that the drivers on this line are privately +instructed to despatch all passengers maimed by accident, to +prevent tedious litigation? No, no. But why this weight upon my +heart?" + +She seated herself at the piano and lightly passed her hand over +the keys. Then, in a clear mezzo-soprano voice, she sang the first +verse of one of the most popular Irish ballads:-- + + + "O Arrah, ma dheelish, the distant dudheen + Lies soft in the moonlight, ma bouchal vourneen: + The springing gossoons on the heather are still, + And the caubeens and colleens are heard on the hills." + + +But as the ravishing notes of her sweet voice died upon the air, +her hands sank listlessly to her side. Music could not chase away +the mysterious shadow from her heart. Again she rose. Putting on +a white crape bonnet, and carefully drawing a pair of lemon-colored +gloves over her taper fingers, she seized her parasol and plunged +into the depths of the pine forest. + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +Genevra had not proceeded many miles before a weariness seized upon +her fragile limbs, and she would fain seat herself upon the trunk +of a prostrate pine, which she previously dusted with her +handkerchief. The sun was just sinking below the horizon, and the +scene was one of gorgeous and sylvan beauty. "How beautiful is +Nature!" murmured the innocent girl, as, reclining gracefully +against the root of the tree, she gathered up her skirts and tied a +handkerchief around her throat. But a low growl interrupted her +meditation. Starting to her feet, her eyes met a sight which froze +her blood with terror. + +The only outlet to the forest was the narrow path, barely wide +enough for a single person, hemmed in by trees and rocks, which she +had just traversed. Down this path, in Indian file, came a +monstrous grizzly, closely followed by a California lion, a wild- +cat, and a buffalo, the rear being brought up by a wild Spanish +bull. The mouths of the three first animals were distended with +frightful significance; the horns of the last were lowered as +ominously. As Genevra was preparing to faint, she heard a low +voice behind her. + +"Eternally dog-gone my skin ef this ain't the puttiest chance yet." + +At the same moment, a long, shining barrel dropped lightly from +behind her, and rested over her shoulder. + +Genevra shuddered. + +"Dern ye--don't move!" + +Genevra became motionless. + +The crack of a rifle rang through the woods. Three frightful yells +were heard, and two sullen roars. Five animals bounded into the +air and five lifeless bodies lay upon the plain. The well-aimed +bullet had done its work. Entering the open throat of the grizzly, +it had traversed his body only to enter the throat of the +California lion, and in like manner the catamount, until it passed +through into the respective foreheads of the bull and the buffalo, +and finally fell flattened from the rocky hillside. + +Genevra turned quickly. "My preserver!" she shrieked, and fell +into the arms of Natty Bumpo, the celebrated Pike Ranger of Donner +Lake. + + +CHAPTER V. + + +The moon rose cheerfully above Donner Lake. On its placid bosom a +dug-out canoe glided rapidly, containing Natty Bumpo and Genevra +Tompkins. + +Both were silent. The same thought possessed each, and perhaps +there was sweet companionship even in the unbroken quiet. Genevra +bit the handle of her parasol and blushed. Natty Bumpo took a +fresh chew of tobacco. At length Genevra said, as if in half- +spoken revery:-- + +"The soft shining of the moon and the peaceful ripple of the waves +seem to say to us various things of an instructive and moral +tendency." + +"You may bet yer pile on that, Miss," said her companion, gravely. +"It's all the preachin' and psalm-singin' I've heern since I was a +boy." + +"Noble being!" said Miss Tompkins to herself, glancing at the +stately Pike as he bent over his paddle to conceal his emotion. +"Reared in this wild seclusion, yet he has become penetrated with +visible consciousness of a Great First Cause." Then, collecting +herself, she said aloud: "Methinks 'twere pleasant to glide ever +thus down the stream of life, hand in hand with the one being whom +the soul claims as its affinity. But what am I saying?"--and the +delicate-minded girl hid her face in her hands. + +A long silence ensued, which was at length broken by her companion. + +"Ef you mean you're on the marry," he said, thoughtfully, "I ain't +in no wise partikler!" + +"My husband," faltered the blushing girl; and she fell into his +arms. + +In ten minutes more the loving couple had landed at Judge +Tompkins's. + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +A year has passed away. Natty Bumpo was returning from Gold Hill, +where he had been to purchase provisions. On his way to Donner +Lake, rumors of an Indian uprising met his ears. "Dern their pesky +skins, ef they dare to touch my Jenny," he muttered between his +clenched teeth. + +It was dark when he reached the borders of the lake. Around a +glittering fire he dimly discerned dusky figures dancing. They +were in war paint. Conspicuous among them was the renowned Muck-a- +Muck. But why did the fingers of Natty Bumpo tighten convulsively +around his rifle? + +The chief held in his hand long tufts of raven hair. The heart of +the pioneer sickened as he recognized the clustering curls of +Genevra. In a moment his rifle was at his shoulder, and with a +sharp "ping," Muck-a-Muck leaped into the air a corpse. To knock +out the brains of the remaining savages, tear the tresses from the +stiffening hand of Muck-a-Muck, and dash rapidly forward to the +cottage of Judge Tompkins, was the work of a moment. + +He burst open the door. Why did he stand transfixed with open +mouth and distended eyeballs? Was the sight too horrible to be +borne? On the contrary, before him, in her peerless beauty, stood +Genevra Tompkins, leaning on her father's arm. + +"Ye'r not scalped, then!" gasped her lover. + +"No. I have no hesitation in saying that I am not; but why this +abruptness?" responded Genevra. + +Bumpo could not speak, but frantically produced the silken tresses. +Genevra turned her face aside. + +"Why, that's her waterfall!" said the Judge. + +Bumpo sank fainting to the floor. + +The famous Pike chieftain never recovered from the deceit, and +refused to marry Genevra, who died, twenty years afterwards, of a +broken heart. Judge Tompkins lost his fortune in Wild Cat. The +stage passes twice a week the deserted cottage at Donner Lake. +Thus was the death of Muck-a-Muck avenged. + + + +TERENCE DENVILLE. + +BY CH--L--S L--V--R. + + +CHAPTER I. + +MY HOME. + + +The little village of Pilwiddle is one of the smallest and +obscurest hamlets on the western coast of Ireland. On a lofty +crag, overlooking the hoarse Atlantic, stands "Denville's Shot +Tower"--a corruption by the peasantry of D'Enville's Chateau, so +called from my great-grandfather, Phelim St. Kemy d'Enville, who +assumed the name and title of a French heiress with whom he ran +away. To this fact my familiar knowledge and excellent +pronunciation of the French language may be attributed, as well as +many of the events which covered my after life. + +The Denvilles were always passionately fond of field sports. At +the age of four, I was already the boldest rider and the best shot +in the country. When only eight, I won the St. Remy Cup at the +Pilwiddle races,--riding my favorite bloodmare Hellfire. As I +approached the stand amidst the plaudits of the assembled +multitude, and cries of, "Thrue for ye, Masther Terence," and "O, +but it's a Dinville!" there was a slight stir among the gentry, who +surrounded the Lord Lieutenant, and other titled personages whom +the race had attracted thither. "How young he is,--a mere child; +and yet how noble-looking," said a sweet low voice, which thrilled +my soul. + +I looked up and met the full liquid orbs of the Hon. Blanche +Fitzroy Sackville, youngest daughter of the Lord Lieutenant. She +blushed deeply. I turned pale and almost fainted. But the cold, +sneering tones of a masculine voice sent the blood back again into +my youthful cheek. + +"Very likely the ragged scion of one of these banditti Irish +gentry, who has taken naturally to 'the road.' He should be at +school--though I warrant me his knowledge of Terence will not +extend beyond his own name," said Lord Henry Somerset, aid-de-camp +to the Lord Lieutenant. + +A moment and I was perfectly calm, though cold as ice. +Dismounting, and stepping to the side of the speaker, I said in a +low, firm voice:-- + +"Had your Lordship read Terence more carefully, you would have +learned that banditti are sometimes proficient in other arts beside +horsemanship," and I touched his holster significantly with my +hand. I had not read Terence myself, but with the skilful audacity +of my race I calculated that a vague allusion, coupled with a +threat, would embarrass him. It did. + +"Ah--what mean you?" he said, white with rage. + +"Enough, we are observed," I replied; "Father Tom will wait on you +this evening; and to-morrow morning, my lord, in the glen below +Pilwiddle we will meet again." + +"Father Tom--glen!" ejaculated the Englishman, with genuine +surprise. "What? do priests carry challenges and act as seconds in +your infernal country?" + +"Yes!" I answered, scornfully, "why should they not? Their +services are more often necessary than those of a surgeon," I added +significantly, turning away. + +The party slowly rode off, with the exception of the Hon. Blanche +Sackville, who lingered for a moment behind. In an instant I was +at her side. Bending her blushing face over the neck of her white +filly, she said hurriedly:-- + +"Words have passed between Lord Somerset and yourself. You are +about to fight. Don't deny it--but hear me. You will meet him--I +know your skill of weapons. He will be at your mercy. I entreat +you to spare his life!" + +I hesitated. "Never!" I cried passionately; "he has insulted a +Denville!" + +"Terence," she whispered, "Terence--FOR MY SAKE?" + +The blood rushed to my cheeks, and her eyes sought the ground in +bashful confusion. + +"You love him then?" I cried, bitterly. + +"No, no," she said, agitatedly, "no, you do me wrong. I--I--cannot +explain myself. My father!--the Lady Dowager Sackville--the estate +of Sackville--the borough--my uncle, Fitzroy Somerset. Ah! what am +I saying? Forgive me. O Terence," she said, as her beautiful head +sank on my shoulder, "you know not what I suffer!" + +I seized her hand and covered it with passionate kisses. But the +high-bred English girl, recovering something of her former hauteur, +said hastily, "Leave me, leave me, but promise!" + +"I promise," I replied, enthusiastically; "I WILL spare his life!" + +"Thanks, Terence,--thanks!" and disengaging her hand from my lips +she rode rapidly away. + +The next morning, the Hon. Captain Henry Somerset and myself +exchanged nineteen shots in the glen, and at each fire I shot away +a button from his uniform. As my last bullet shot off the last +button from his sleeve, I remarked quietly, "You seem now, my lord, +to be almost as ragged as the gentry you sneered at," and rode +haughtily away. + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE FIGHTING FIFTY-SIXTH. + + +When I was nineteen years old my father sold the Chateau d'Enville +and purchased my commission in the "Fifty-sixth" with the proceeds. +"I say, Denville," said young McSpadden, a boy-faced ensign, who +had just joined, "you'll represent the estate in the Army, if you +won't in the House." Poor fellow, he paid for his meaningless joke +with his life, for I shot him through the heart the next morning. +"You're a good fellow, Denville," said the poor boy faintly, as I +knelt beside him: "good by!" For the first time since my +grandfather's death I wept. I could not help thinking that I would +have been a better man if Blanche--but why proceed? Was she not +now in Florence--the belle of the English Embassy? + +But Napoleon had returned from Elba. Europe was in a blaze of +excitement. The Allies were preparing to resist the Man of +Destiny. We were ordered from Gibraltar home, and were soon again +en route for Brussels. I did not regret that I was to be placed in +active service. I was ambitious, and longed for an opportunity to +distinguish myself. My garrison life in Gibraltar had been +monotonous and dull. I had killed five men in duel, and had an +affair with the colonel of my regiment, who handsomely apologized +before the matter assumed a serious aspect. I had been twice in +love. Yet these were but boyish freaks and follies. I wished to +be a man. + +The time soon came,--the morning of Waterloo. But why describe +that momentous battle, on which the fate of the entire world was +hanging? Twice were the Fifty-sixth surrounded by French +cuirassiers, and twice did we mow them down by our fire. I had +seven horses shot under me, and was mounting the eighth, when an +orderly rode up hastily, touched his cap, and, handing me a +despatch, galloped rapidly away. + +I opened it hurriedly and read:-- + +"LET PICTON ADVANCE IMMEDIATELY ON THE RIGHT." + +I saw it all at a glance. I had been mistaken for a general +officer. But what was to be done? Picton's division was two miles +away, only accessible through a heavy cross fire of artillery and +musketry. But my mind was made up. + +In an instant I was engaged with an entire squadron of cavalry, who +endeavored to surround me. Cutting my way through them, I advanced +boldly upon a battery and sabred the gunners before they could +bring their pieces to bear. Looking around, I saw that I had in +fact penetrated the French centre. Before I was well aware of the +locality, I was hailed by a sharp voice in French,-- + +"Come here, sir!" + +I obeyed, and advanced to the side of a little man in a cocked hat. + +"Has Grouchy come?" + +"Not yet, sire," I replied,--for it was the Emperor. + +"Ha!" he said suddenly, bending his piercing eyes on my uniform; "a +prisoner?" + +"No, sire," I said, proudly. + +"A spy?" + +I placed my hand upon my sword, but a gesture from the Emperor bade +me forbear. + +"You are a brave man," he said. + +I took my snuff-box from my pocket, and, taking a pinch, replied by +handing it, with a bow, to the Emperor. + +His quick eye caught the cipher on the lid. "What! a D'Enville? +Ha! this accounts for the purity of your accent. Any relation to +Roderick d'Enville?" + +"My father, sire." + +"He was my school-fellow at the Ecole Polytechnique. Embrace me!" +And the Emperor fell upon my neck in the presence of his entire +staff. Then, recovering himself, he gently placed in my hand his +own magnificent snuff-box, in exchange for mine, and hanging upon +my breast the cross of the Legion of Honor which he took from his +own, he bade one of his Marshals conduct me back to my regiment. + +I was so intoxicated with the honor of which I had been the +recipient, that on reaching our lines I uttered a shout of joy and +put spurs to my horse. The intelligent animal seemed to sympathize +with my feelings, and fairly flew over the ground. On a rising +eminence a few yards before me stood a gray-haired officer, +surrounded by his staff. I don't know what possessed me, but +putting spurs to my horse, I rode at him boldly, and with one bound +cleared him, horse and all. A shout of indignation arose from the +assembled staff. I wheeled suddenly, with the intention of +apologizing, but my mare misunderstood me, and, again dashing +forward, once more vaulted over the head of the officer, this time +unfortunately uncovering him by a vicious kick of her hoof. "Seize +him!" roared the entire army. I was seized. As the soldiers led +me away, I asked the name of the gray-haired officer. "That--why, +that's the DUKE OF WELLINGTON!" + +I fainted. + + * * * * * * + +For six months I had brain-fever. During my illness ten grapeshot +were extracted from my body which I had unconsciously received +during the battle. When I opened my eyes I met the sweet glance of +a Sister of Charity. + +"Blanche!" I stammered feebly. + +"The same," she replied. + +"You here?" + +"Yes, dear; but hush! It's a long story. You see, dear Terence, +your grandfather married my great-aunt's sister, and your father +again married my grandmother's niece, who, dying without a will, +was, according to the French law--" + +"But I do not comprehend," I said. + +"Of course not," said Blanche, with her old sweet smile; "you've +had brain-fever; so go to sleep." + +I understood, however, that Blanche loved me; and I am now, dear +reader, Sir Terence Sackville, K. C. B., and Lady Blanche is Lady +Sackville. + + + +SELINA SEDILIA. + +BY MISS M. E. B--DD--N AND MRS. H--N--Y W--D. + + +CHAPTER I. + + +The sun was setting over Sloperton Grange, and reddened the window +of the lonely chamber in the western tower, supposed to be haunted +by Sir Edward Sedilia, the founder of the Grange. In the dreamy +distance arose the gilded mausoleum of Lady Felicia Sedilia, who +haunted that portion of Sedilia Manor, known as "Stiff-uns Acre." +A little to the left of the Grange might have been seen a +mouldering ruin, known as "Guy's Keep," haunted by the spirit of +Sir Guy Sedilia, who was found, one morning, crushed by one of the +fallen battlements. Yet, as the setting sun gilded these objects, +a beautiful and almost holy calm seemed diffused about the Grange. + +The Lady Selina sat by an oriel window, overlooking the park. The +sun sank gently in the bosom of the German Ocean, and yet the lady +did not lift her beautiful head from the finely curved arm and +diminutive hand which supported it. When darkness finally shrouded +the landscape she started, for the sound of horse-hoofs clattered +over the stones of the avenue. She had scarcely risen before an +aristocratic young man fell on his knees before her. + +"My Selina!" + +"Edgardo! You here?" + +"Yes, dearest." + +"And--you--you--have--seen nothing?" said the lady in an agitated +voice and nervous manner, turning her face aside to conceal her +emotion. + +"Nothing--that is nothing of any account," said Edgardo. "I passed +the ghost of your aunt in the park, noticed the spectre of your +uncle in the ruined keep, and observed the familiar features of the +spirit of your great-grandfather at his usual post. But nothing +beyond these trifles, my Selina. Nothing more, love, absolutely +nothing." + +The young man turned his dark liquid orbs fondly upon the ingenuous +face of his betrothed. + +"My own Edgardo!--and you still love me? You still would marry me +in spite of this dark mystery which surrounds me? In spite of the +fatal history of my race? In spite of the ominous predictions of +my aged nurse?" + +"I would, Selina"; and the young man passed his arm around her +yielding waist. The two lovers gazed at each other's faces in +unspeakable bliss. Suddenly Selina started. + +"Leave me, Edgardo! leave me! A mysterious something--a fatal +misgiving--a dark ambiguity--an equivocal mistrust oppresses me. I +would be alone!" + +The young man arose, and cast a loving glance on the lady. "Then +we will be married on the seventeenth." + +"The seventeenth," repeated Selina, with a mysterious shudder. + +They embraced and parted. As the clatter of hoofs in the court- +yard died away, the Lady Selina sank into the chair she had just +quitted. + +"The seventeenth," she repeated slowly, with the same fateful +shudder. "Ah!--what if he should know that I have another husband +living? Dare I reveal to him that I have two legitimate and three +natural children? Dare I repeat to him the history of my youth? +Dare I confess that at the age of seven I poisoned my sister, by +putting verdigris in her cream-tarts,--that I threw my cousin from +a swing at the age of twelve? That the lady's-maid who incurred +the displeasure of my girlhood now lies at the bottom of the horse- +pond? No! no! he is too pure,--too good,--too innocent, to hear +such improper conversation!" and her whole body writhed as she +rocked to and fro in a paroxysm of grief. + +But she was soon calm. Rising to her feet, she opened a secret +panel in the wall, and revealed a slow-match ready for lighting. + +"This match," said the Lady Selina, "is connected with a mine +beneath the western tower, where my three children are confined; +another branch of it lies under the parish church, where the record +of my first marriage is kept. I have only to light this match and +the whole of my past life is swept away!" she approached the match +with a lighted candle. + +But a hand was laid upon her arm, and with a shriek the Lady Selina +fell on her knees before the spectre of Sir Guy. + + +CHAPTER II. + + +"Forbear, Selina," said the phantom in a hollow voice. + +"Why should I forbear?" responded Selina haughtily, as she +recovered her courage. "You know the secret of our race?" + +"I do. Understand me,--I do not object to the eccentricities of +your youth. I know the fearful destiny which, pursuing you, led +you to poison your sister and drown your lady's-maid. I know the +awful doom which I have brought upon this house! But if you make +way with these children--" + +"Well," said the Lady Selina, hastily. + +"They will haunt you!" + +"Well, I fear them not," said Selina, drawing her superb figure to +its full height. + +"Yes, but, my dear child, what place are they to haunt? The ruin +is sacred to your uncle's spirit. Your aunt monopolizes the park, +and, I must be allowed to state, not unfrequently trespasses upon +the grounds of others. The horse-pond is frequented by the spirit +of your maid, and your murdered sister walks these corridors. To +be plain, there is no room at Sloperton Grange for another ghost. +I cannot have them in my room,--for you know I don't like children. +Think of this, rash girl, and forbear! Would you, Selina," said +the phantom, mournfully,--"would you force your great-grandfather's +spirit to take lodgings elsewhere?" + +Lady Selina's hand trembled; the lighted candle fell from her +nerveless fingers. + +"No," she cried passionately; "never!" and fell fainting to the +floor. + + +CHAPTER III + + +Edgardo galloped rapidly towards Sloperton. When the outline of +the Grange had faded away in the darkness, he reined his +magnificent steed beside the ruins of Guy's Keep. + +"It wants but a few minutes of the hour," he said, consulting his +watch by the light of the moon. "He dare not break his word. He +will come." He paused, and peered anxiously into the darkness. +"But come what may, she is mine," he continued, as his thoughts +reverted fondly to the fair lady he had quitted. "Yet if she knew +all. If she knew that I were a disgraced and ruined man,--a felon +and an outcast. If she knew that at the age of fourteen I murdered +my Latin tutor and forged my uncle's will. If she knew that I had +three wives already, and that the fourth victim of misplaced +confidence and my unfortunate peculiarity is expected to be at +Sloperton by to-night's train with her baby. But no; she must not +know it. Constance must not arrive. Burke the Slogger must attend +to that. + +"Ha! here he is! Well?" + +These words were addressed to a ruffian in a slouched hat, who +suddenly appeared from Guy's Keep. + +"I be's here, measter," said the villain, with a disgracefully low +accent and complete disregard of grammatical rules. + +"It is well. Listen: I'm in possession of facts that will send you +to the gallows. I know of the murder of Bill Smithers, the robbery +of the tollgate-keeper, and the making away of the youngest +daughter of Sir Reginald de Walton. A word from me, and the +officers of justice are on your track." + +Burke the Slogger trembled. + +"Hark ye! serve my purpose, and I may yet save you. The 5.30 train +from Clapham will be due at Sloperton at 9.25. IT MUST NOT +ARRIVE!" + +The villain's eyes sparkled as he nodded at Edgardo. + +"Enough,--you understand; leave me!" + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +About half a mile from Sloperton Station the South Clapham and +Medway line crossed a bridge over Sloperton-on-Trent. As the +shades of evening were closing, a man in a slouched hat might have +been seen carrying a saw and axe under his arm, hanging about the +bridge. From time to time he disappeared in the shadow of its +abutments, but the sound of a saw and axe still betrayed his +vicinity. At exactly nine o'clock he reappeared, and, crossing to +the Sloperton side, rested his shoulder against the abutment and +gave a shove. The bridge swayed a moment, and then fell with a +splash into the water, leaving a space of one hundred feet between +the two banks. This done, Burke the Slogger,--for it was he,--with +a fiendish chuckle seated himself on the divided railway track and +awaited the coming of the train. + +A shriek from the woods announced its approach. For an instant +Burke the Slogger saw the glaring of a red lamp. The ground +trembled. The train was going with fearful rapidity. Another +second and it had reached the bank. Burke the Slogger uttered a +fiendish laugh. But the next moment the train leaped across the +chasm, striking the rails exactly even, and, dashing out the life +of Burke the Slogger, sped away to Sloperton. + +The first object that greeted Edgardo, as he rode up to the station +on the arrival of the train, was the body of Burke the Slogger +hanging on the cow-catcher; the second was the face of his deserted +wife looking from the windows of a second-class carriage. + + +CHAPTER V. + + +A nameless terror seemed to have taken possession of Clarissa, Lady +Selina's maid, as she rushed into the presence of her mistress. + +"O my lady, such news!" + +"Explain yourself," said her mistress, rising. + +"An accident has happened on the railway, and a man has been +killed." + +"What--not Edgardo!" almost screamed Selina. + +"No, Burke the Slogger!" your ladyship. + +"My first husband!" said Lady Selina, sinking on her knees. "Just +Heaven, I thank thee!" + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +The morning of the seventeenth dawned brightly over Sloperton. "A +fine day for the wedding," said the sexton to Swipes, the butler of +Sloperton Grange. The aged retainer shook his head sadly. "Alas! +there's no trusting in signs!" he continued. "Seventy-five years +ago, on a day like this, my young mistress--" But he was cut short +by the appearance of a stranger. + +"I would see Sir Edgardo," said the new-comer, impatiently. + +The bridegroom, who, with the rest of the wedding-train, was about +stepping into the carriage to proceed to the parish church, drew +the stranger aside. + +"It's done!" said the stranger, in a hoarse whisper. + +"Ah! and you buried her?" + +"With the others!" + +"Enough. No more at present. Meet me after the ceremony, and you +shall have your reward." + +The stranger shuffled away, and Edgardo returned to his bride. "A +trifling matter of business I had forgotten, my dear Selina; let us +proceed." And the young man pressed the timid hand of his blushing +bride as he handed her into the carriage. The cavalcade rode out +of the court-yard. At the same moment, the deep bell on Guy's Keep +tolled ominously. + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +Scarcely had the wedding-train left the Grange, than Alice Sedilia, +youngest daughter of Lady Selina, made her escape from the western +tower, owing to a lack of watchfulness on the part of Clarissa. +The innocent child, freed from restraint, rambled through the +lonely corridors, and finally, opening a door, found herself in her +mother's boudoir. For some time she amused herself by examining +the various ornaments and elegant trifles with which it was filled. +Then, in pursuance of a childish freak, she dressed herself in her +mother's laces and ribbons. In this occupation she chanced to +touch a peg which proved to be a spring that opened a secret panel +in the wall. Alice uttered a cry of delight as she noticed what, +to her childish fancy, appeared to be the slow-match of a fire- +work. Taking a lucifer match in her hand she approached the fuse. +She hesitated a moment. What would her mother and her nurse say? + +Suddenly the ringing of the chimes of Sloperton parish church met +her ear. Alice knew that the sound signified that the marriage +party had entered the church, and that she was secure from +interruption. With a childish smile upon her lips, Alice Sedilia +touched off the slow-match. + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +At exactly two o'clock on the seventeenth, Rupert Sedilia, who had +just returned from India, was thoughtfully descending the hill +toward Sloperton manor. "If I can prove that my aunt Lady Selina +was married before my father died, I can establish my claim to +Sloperton Grange," he uttered, half aloud. He paused, for a sudden +trembling of the earth beneath his feet, and a terrific explosion, +as of a park of artillery, arrested his progress. At the same +moment he beheld a dense cloud of smoke envelop the churchyard of +Sloperton, and the western tower of the Grange seemed to be lifted +bodily from its foundation. The air seemed filled with falling +fragments, and two dark objects struck the earth close at his feet. +Rupert picked them up. One seemed to be a heavy volume bound in +brass. + +A cry burst from his lips. + +"The Parish Records." He opened the volume hastily. It contained +the marriage of Lady Selina to "Burke the Slogger." + +The second object proved to be a piece of parchment. He tore it +open with trembling fingers. It was the missing will of Sir James +Sedilia! + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +When the bells again rang on the new parish church of Sloperton it +was for the marriage of Sir Rupert Sedilia and his cousin, the only +remaining members of the family. + +Five more ghosts were added to the supernatural population of +Sloperton Grange. Perhaps this was the reason why Sir Rupert sold +the property shortly afterward, and that for many years a dark +shadow seemed to hang over the ruins of Sloperton Grange. + + + +THE NINETY-NINE GUARDSMEN. + +BY AL--X--D--R D--M--S + + +CHAPTER I. + +SHOWING THE QUALITY OF THE CUSTOMERS OF THE INNKEEPER OF PROVINS. + + +Twenty years after, the gigantic innkeeper of Provins stood looking +at a cloud of dust on the highway. + +This cloud of dust betokened the approach of a traveller. +Travellers had been rare that season on the highway between Paris +and Provins. + +The heart of the innkeeper rejoiced. Turning to Dame Perigord, his +wife, he said, stroking his white apron:-- + +"St. Denis! make haste and spread the cloth. Add a bottle of +Charlevoix to the table. This traveller, who rides so fast, by his +pace must be a Monseigneur." + +Truly the traveller, clad in the uniform of a musketeer, as he drew +up to the door of the hostelry, did not seem to have spared his +horse. Throwing his reins to the landlord, he leaped lightly to +the ground. He was a young man of four-and-twenty, and spoke with +a slight Gascon accent. + +"I am hungry, Morbleu! I wish to dine!" + +The gigantic innkeeper bowed and led the way to a neat apartment, +where a table stood covered with tempting viands. The musketeer at +once set to work. Fowls, fish, and pates disappeared before him. +Perigord sighed as he witnessed the devastations. Only once the +stranger paused. + +"Wine!" Perigord brought wine. The stranger drank a dozen +bottles. Finally he rose to depart. Turning to the expectant +landlord, he said:-- + +"Charge it." + +"To whom, your highness?" said Perigord, anxiously. + +"To his Eminence!" + +"Mazarin!" ejaculated the innkeeper. + +"The same. Bring me my horse," and the musketeer, remounting his +favorite animal, rode away. + +The innkeeper slowly turned back into the inn. Scarcely had he +reached the courtyard before the clatter of hoofs again called him +to the doorway. A young musketeer of a light and graceful figure +rode up. + +"Parbleu, my dear Perigord, I am famishing. What have you got for +dinner?" + +"Venison, capons, larks, and pigeons, your excellency," replied the +obsequious landlord, bowing to the ground. + +"Enough!" The young musketeer dismounted and entered the inn. +Seating himself at the table replenished by the careful Perigord, +he speedily swept it as clean as the first comer. + +"Some wine, my brave Perigord," said the graceful young musketeer, +as soon as he could find utterance. + +Perigord brought three dozen of Charlevoix. The young man emptied +them almost at a draught. + +"By-by, Perigord," he said lightly, waving his hand, as, preceding +the astonished landlord, he slowly withdrew. + +"But, your highness,--the bill," said the astounded Perigord. + +"Ah, the bill. Charge it!" + +"To whom?" + +"The Queen!" + +"What, Madame?" + +"The same. Adieu, my good Perigord." And the graceful stranger +rode away. An interval of quiet succeeded, in which the innkeeper +gazed wofully at his wife. Suddenly he was startled by a clatter +of hoofs, and an aristocratic figure stood in the doorway. + +"Ah," said the courtier good-naturedly. "What, do my eyes deceive +me? No, it is the festive and luxurious Perigord. Perigord, +listen. I famish. I languish. I would dine." + +The innkeeper again covered the table with viands. Again it was +swept clean as the fields of Egypt before the miraculous swarm of +locusts. The stranger looked up. + +"Bring me another fowl, my Perigord." + +"Impossible, your excellency; the larder is stripped clean." + +"Another flitch of bacon, then." + +"Impossible, your highness; there is no more." + +"Well, then, wine!" + +The landlord brought one hundred and forty-four bottles. The +courtier drank them all. + +"One may drink if one cannot eat," said the aristocratic stranger, +good-humoredly. + +The innkeeper shuddered. + +The guest rose to depart. The innkeeper came slowly forward with +his bill, to which he had covertly added the losses which he had +suffered from the previous strangers. + +"Ah, the bill. Charge it." + +"Charge it! to whom?" + +"To the King," said the guest. + +"What! his Majesty?" + +"Certainly. Farewell, Perigord." + +The innkeeper groaned. Then he went out and took down his sign. +Then remarked to his wife:-- + +"I am a plain man, and don't understand politics. It seems, +however, that the country is in a troubled state. Between his +Eminence the Cardinal, his Majesty the King, and her Majesty the +Queen, I am a ruined man." + +"Stay," said Dame Perigord, "I have an idea." + +"And that is--" + +"Become yourself a musketeer." + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE COMBAT. + + +On leaving Provins the first musketeer proceeded to Nangis, where +he was reinforced by thirty-three followers. The second musketeer, +arriving at Nangis at the same moment, placed himself at the head +of thirty-three more. The third guest of the landlord of Provins +arrived at Nangis in time to assemble together thirty-three other +musketeers. + +The first stranger led the troops of his Eminence. + +The second led the troops of the Queen. + +The third led the troops of the King. + +The fight commenced. It raged terribly for seven hours. The first +musketeer killed thirty of the Queen's troops. The second +musketeer killed thirty of the King's troops. The third musketeer +killed thirty of his Eminence's troops. + +By this time it will be perceived the number of musketeers had been +narrowed down to four on each side. + +Naturally the three principal warriors approached each other. + +They simultaneously uttered a cry. + +"Aramis!" + +"Athos!" + +"D'Artagnan!" + +They fell into each other's arms. + +"And it seems that we are fighting against each other, my +children," said the Count de la Fere, mournfully. + +"How singular!" exclaimed Aramis and D'Artagnan. + +"Let us stop this fratricidal warfare," said Athos. + +"We will!" they exclaimed together. + +"But how to disband our followers?" queried D'Artagnan. + +Aramis winked. They understood each other. "Let us cut 'em down!" + +They cut 'em down. Aramis killed three. D'Artagnan three. Athos +three. + +The friends again embraced. "How like old times," said Aramis. +"How touching!" exclaimed the serious and philosophic Count de la +Fere. + +The galloping of hoofs caused them to withdraw from each other's +embraces. A gigantic figure rapidly approached. + +"The innkeeper of Provins!" they cried, drawing their swords. + +"Perigord, down with him!" shouted D'Artagnan. + +"Stay," said Athos. + +The gigantic figure was beside them. He uttered a cry. + +"Athos, Aramis, D'Artagnan!" + +"Porthos!" exclaimed the astonished trio. + +"The same." They all fell in each other's arms. + +The Count de la Fere slowly raised his hands to Heaven. "Bless +you! Bless us, my children! However different our opinion may be +in regard to politics, we have but one opinion in regard to our own +merits. Where can you find a better man than Aramus?" + +"Than Porthos?" said Aramis. + +"Than D'Artagnan?" said Porthos. + +"Than Athos?" said D'Artagnan. + + +CHAPTER III. + +SHOWING HOW THE KING OF FRANCE WENT UP A LADDER. + + +The King descended into the garden. Proceeding cautiously along +the terraced walk, he came to the wall immediately below the +windows of Madame. To the left were two windows, concealed by +vines. They opened into the apartments of La Valliere. + +The King sighed. + +"It is about nineteen feet to that window," said the King. "If I +had a ladder about nineteen feet long, it would reach to that +window. This is logic." + +Suddenly the King stumbled over something. "St. Denis!" he +exclaimed, looking down. It was a ladder, just nineteen feet long. + +The King placed it against the wall. In so doing, he fixed the +lower end upon the abdomen of a man who lay concealed by the wall +The man did not utter a cry or wince. The King suspected nothing. +He ascended the ladder. + +The ladder was too short. Louis the Grand was not a tall man. He +was still two feet below the window. + +"Dear me!" said the King. + +Suddenly the ladder was lifted two feet from below. This enabled +the King to leap in the window. At the farther end of the +apartment stood a young girl, with red hair and a lame leg. She +was trembling with emotion. + +"Louise!" + +"The King!" + +"Ah, my God, mademoiselle." + +"Ah, my God, sire." + +But a low knock at the door interrupted the lovers. The King +uttered a cry of rage; Louise one of despair. + +The door opened and D'Artagnan entered. + +"Good evening, sire," said the musketeer. + +The King touched a bell. Porthos appeared in the doorway. + +"Good evening, sire." + +"Arrest M. D'Artagnan." + +Porthos looked at D'Artagnan, and did not move. + +The King almost turned purple with rage. He again touched the +bell. Athos entered. + +"Count, arrest Porthos and D'Artagnan." + +The Count de la Fere glanced at Porthos and D'Artagnan, and smiled +sweetly. + +"Sacre! Where is Aramis?" said the King, violently. + +"Here, sire," and Aramis entered. + +"Arrest Athos, Porthos, and D'Artagnan." + +Aramis bowed and folded his arms. + +"Arrest yourself!" + +Aramis did not move. + +The King shuddered and turned pale. "Am I not King of France?" + +"Assuredly, sire, but we are also severally, Porthos, Aramis, +D'Artagnan, and Athos." + +"Ah!" said the King. + +"Yes, sire." + +"What does this mean?" + +"It means, your Majesty," said Aramis, stepping forward, "that your +conduct as a married man is highly improper. I am an Abbe, and I +object to these improprieties. My friends here, D'Artagnan, Athos, +and Porthos, pure-minded young men, are also terribly shocked. +Observe, sire, how they blush!" + +Athos, Porthos, and D'Artagnan blushed. "Ah," said the King, +thoughtfully. "You teach me a lesson. You are devoted and noble +young gentlemen, but your only weakness is your excessive modesty. +From this moment I make you all Marshals and Dukes, with the +exception of Aramis." + +"And me, sire?" said Aramis. + +"You shall be an Archbishop!" + +The four friends looked up and then rushed into each other's arms. +The King embraced Louise de la Valliere, by way of keeping them +company. A pause ensued. At last Athos spoke:-- + +"Swear, my children, that, next to yourselves, you will respect-- +the King of France; and remember that 'Forty years after' we will +meet again." + + + +THE DWELLER OF THE THRESHOLD. + +BY SIR ED--D L--TT--N B--LW--R. + + +BOOK I. + +THE PROMPTINGS OF THE IDEAL. + + +It was noon. Sir Edward had stepped from his brougham and was +proceeding on foot down the Strand. He was dressed with his usual +faultless taste, but in alighting from his vehicle his foot had +slipped, and a small round disk of conglomerated soil, which +instantly appeared on his high arched instep, marred the harmonious +glitter of his boots. Sir Edward was fastidious. Casting his eyes +around, at a little distance he perceived the stand of a youthful +bootblack. Thither he sauntered, and carelessly placing his foot +on the low stool, he waited the application of the polisher's art. +"'Tis true," said Sir Edward to himself, yet half aloud, "the +contact of the Foul and the Disgusting mars the general effect of +the Shiny and the Beautiful--and, yet, why am I here? I repeat it, +calmly and deliberately--why am I here? Ha! Boy!" + +The Boy looked up--his dark Italian eyes glanced intelligently at +the Philosopher, and as with one hand he tossed back his glossy +curls, from his marble brow, and with the other he spread the +equally glossy Day & Martin over the Baronet's boot, he answered in +deep rich tones: "The Ideal is subjective to the Real. The +exercise of apperception gives a distinctiveness to idiocracy, +which is, however, subject to the limits of ME. You are an admirer +of the Beautiful, sir. You wish your boots blacked. The Beautiful +is attainable by means of the Coin." + +"Ah," said Sir Edward thoughtfully, gazing upon the almost supernal +beauty of the Child before him; "you speak well. You have read +Kant." + +The Boy blushed deeply. He drew a copy of Kant from his blouse, +but in his confusion several other volumes dropped from his bosom +on the ground. The Baronet picked them up. + +"Ah!" said the Philosopher, "what's this? Cicero's De Senectute, +at your age, too? Martial's Epigrams, Caesar's Commentaries. +What! a classical scholar?" + +"E pluribus Unum. Nux vomica. Nil desperandum. Nihil fit!" said +the Boy, enthusiastically. The Philosopher gazed at the Child. A +strange presence seemed to transfuse and possess him. Over the +brow of the Boy glittered the pale nimbus of the Student. + +"Ah, and Schiller's Robbers, too?" queried the Philosopher. + +"Das ist ausgespielt," said the Boy, modestly. + +"Then you have read my translation of Schiller's Ballads?" +continued the Baronet, with some show of interest. + +"I have, and infinitely prefer them to the original," said the Boy, +with intellectual warmth. "You have shown how in Actual life we +strive for a Goal we cannot reach; how in the Ideal the Goal is +attainable, and there effort is victory. You have given us the +Antithesis which is a key to the Remainder, and constantly balances +before us the conditions of the Actual and the privileges of the +Ideal." + +My very words," said the Baronet; "wonderful, wonderful!" and he +gazed fondly at the Italian boy, who again resumed his menial +employment. Alas! the wings of the Ideal were folded. The Student +had been absorbed in the Boy. + +But Sir Edward's boots were blacked, and he turned to depart. +Placing his hand upon the clustering tendrils that surrounded the +classic nob of the infant Italian, he said softly, like a strain of +distant music:-- + +"Boy, you have done well. Love the Good. Protect the Innocent. +Provide for The Indigent. Respect the Philosopher. . . . Stay! +Can you tell we what IS The True, The Beautiful, The Innocent, The +Virtuous?" + +"They are things that commence with a capital letter," said the +Boy, promptly. + +"Enough! Respect everything that commences with a capital letter! +Respect ME!" and dropping a half-penny in the hand of the boy, he +departed. + +The Boy gazed fixedly at the coin. A frightful and instantaneous +change overspread his features. His noble brow was corrugated with +baser lines of calculation. His black eye, serpent-like, glittered +with suppressed passion. Dropping upon his hands and feet, he +crawled to the curbstone and hissed after the retreating form of +the Baronet, the single word:-- + +"Bilk!" + + +BOOK II. + +IN THE WORLD. + + +"Eleven years ago," said Sir Edward to himself, as his brougham +slowly rolled him toward the Committee Room; "just eleven years ago +my natural son disappeared mysteriously. I have no doubt in the +world but that this little bootblack is he. His mother died in +Italy. He resembles his mother very much. Perhaps I ought to +provide for him. Shall I disclose myself? No! no! Better he +should taste the sweets of Labor. Penury ennobles the mind and +kindles the Love of the Beautiful. I will act to him, not like a +Father, not like a Guardian, not like a Friend--but like a +Philosopher!" + +With these words, Sir Edward entered the Committee Room. His +Secretary approached him. "Sir Edward, there are fears of a +division in the House, and the Prime Minister has sent for you." + +"I will be there," said Sir Edward, as he placed his hand on his +chest and uttered a hollow cough! + +No one who heard the Baronet that night, in his sarcastic and +withering speech on the Drainage and Sewerage Bill, would have +recognized the lover of the Ideal and the Philosopher of the +Beautiful. No one who listened to his eloquence would have dreamed +of the Spartan resolution this iron man had taken in regard to the +Lost Boy--his own beloved Lionel. None! + +"A fine speech from Sir Edward to-night," said Lord Billingsgate, +as, arm-and-arm with the Premier, he entered his carriage. + +"Yes! but how dreadfully he coughs!" + +"Exactly. Dr. Bolus says his lungs are entirely gone; he breathes +entirely by an effort of will, and altogether independent of +pulmonary assistance." + +"How strange!" and the carriage rolled away. + + +BOOK III. + +THE DWELLER OF THE THRESHOLD. + + +"ADON AI, appear! appear!" + +And as the Seer spoke, the awful Presence glided out of +Nothingness, and sat, sphinx-like, at the feet of the Alchemist. + +"I am come!" said the Thing. + +"You should say, 'I have come,'--it's better grammar," said the +Boy-Neophyte, thoughtfully accenting the substituted expression. + +"Hush, rash Boy," said the Seer, sternly. "Would you oppose your +feeble knowledge to the infinite intelligence of the Unmistakable? +A word, and you are lost forever." + +The Boy breathed a silent prayer, and, handing a sealed package to +the Seer, begged him to hand it to his father in case of his +premature decease. + +"You have sent for me," hissed the Presence. "Behold me, +Apokatharticon,--the Unpronounceable. In me all things exist that +are not already coexistent. I am the Unattainable, the Intangible, +the Cause, and the Effect. In me observe the Brahma of Mr. +Emerson; not only Brahma himself, but also the sacred musical +composition rehearsed by the faithful Hindoo. I am the real Gyges. +None others are genuine." + +And the veiled Son of the Starbeam laid himself loosely about the +room, and permeated Space generally. + +"Unfathomable Mystery," said the Rosicrucian in a low, sweet voice. +"Brave Child with the Vitreous Optic! Thou who pervadest all +things and rubbest against us without abrasion of the cuticle. I +command thee, speak!" + +And the misty, intangible, indefinite Presence spoke. + + +BOOK IV. + +MYSELF. + + +After the events related in the last chapter, the reader will +perceive that nothing was easier than to reconcile Sir Edward to +his son Lionel, nor to resuscitate the beautiful Italian girl, who, +it appears, was not dead, and to cause Sir Edward to marry his +first and boyish love, whom he had deserted. They were married in +St. George's, Hanover Square. As the bridal party stood before the +altar, Sir Edward, with a sweet sad smile, said, in quite his old +manner:-- + +"The Sublime and Beautiful are the Real; the only Ideal is the +Ridiculous and Homely. Let us always remember this. Let us +through life endeavor to personify the virtues, and always begin +'em with a capital letter. Let us, whenever we can find an +opportunity, deliver our sentiments in the form of round-hand +copies. Respect the Aged. Eschew Vulgarity. Admire Ourselves. +Regard the Novelist." + + + +THE HAUNTED MAN. + +A CHRISTMAS STORY. + +BY CH--R--S D--CK--NS. + + +PART I. + +THE FIRST PHANTOM. + + +Don't tell me that it wasn't a knocker. I had seen it often +enough, and I ought to know. So ought the three-o'clock beer, in +dirty high-lows, swinging himself over the railing, or executing a +demoniacal jig upon the doorstep; so ought the butcher, although +butchers as a general thing are scornful of such trifles; so ought +the postman, to whom knockers of the most extravagant description +were merely human weaknesses, that were to be pitied and used. And +so ought, for the matter of that, etc., etc., etc. + +But then it was SUCH a knocker. A wild, extravagant, and utterly +incomprehensible knocker. A knocker so mysterious and suspicious +that Policeman X 37, first coming upon it, felt inclined to take it +instantly in custody, but compromised with his professional +instincts by sharply and sternly noting it with an eye that +admitted of no nonsense, but confidently expected to detect its +secret yet. An ugly knocker; a knocker with a hard, human face, +that was a type of the harder human face within. A human face that +held between its teeth a brazen rod. So hereafter, in the +mysterious future should be held, etc., etc. + +But if the knocker had a fierce human aspect in the glare of day, +you should have seen it at night, when it peered out of the +gathering shadows and suggested an ambushed figure; when the light +of the street lamps fell upon it, and wrought a play of sinister +expression in its hard outlines; when it seemed to wink meaningly +at a shrouded figure who, as the night fell darkly, crept up the +steps and passed into the mysterious house; when the swinging door +disclosed a black passage into which the figure seemed to lose +itself and become a part of the mysterious gloom; when the night +grew boisterous and the fierce wind made furious charges at the +knocker, as if to wrench it off and carry it away in triumph. Such +a night as this. + +It was a wild and pitiless wind. A wind that had commenced life as +a gentle country zephyr, but wandering through manufacturing towns +had become demoralized, and reaching the city had plunged into +extravagant dissipation and wild excesses. A roistering wind that +indulged in Bacchanalian shouts on the street corners, that knocked +off the hats from the heads of helpless passengers, and then +fulfilled its duties by speeding away, like all young prodigals,-- +to sea. + +He sat alone in a gloomy library listening to the wind that roared +in the chimney. Around him novels and story-books were strewn +thickly; in his lap he held one with its pages freshly cut, and +turned the leaves wearily until his eyes rested upon a portrait in +its frontispiece. And as the wind howled the more fiercely, and +the darkness without fell blacker, a strange and fateful likeness +to that portrait appeared above his chair and leaned upon his +shoulder. The Haunted Man gazed at the portrait and sighed. The +figure gazed at the portrait and sighed too. + +"Here again?" said the Haunted Man. + +"Here again," it repeated in a low voice. + +"Another novel?" + +"Another novel." + +"The old story?" + +"The old story." + +"I see a child," said the Haunted Man, gazing from the pages of the +book into the fire,--"a most unnatural child, a model infant. It +is prematurely old and philosophic. It dies in poverty to slow +music. It dies surrounded by luxury to slow music. It dies with +an accompaniment of golden water and rattling carts to slow music. +Previous to its decease it makes a will; it repeats the Lord's +Prayer, it kisses the 'boofer lady.' That child--" + +"Is mine," said the phantom. + +"I see a good woman, undersized. I see several charming women, but +they are all undersized. They are more or less imbecile and +idiotic, but always fascinating and undersized. They wear +coquettish caps and aprons. I observe that feminine virtue is +invariably below the medium height, and that it is always simple +and infantine. These women--" + +"Are mine." + +"I see a haughty, proud, and wicked lady. She is tall and queenly. +I remark that all proud and wicked women are tall and queenly. +That woman--" + +"Is mine," said the phantom, wringing his hands. + +"I see several things continually impending. I observe that +whenever an accident, a murder, or death is about to happen, there +is something in the furniture, in the locality, in the atmosphere, +that foreshadows and suggests it years in advance. I cannot say +that in real life I have noticed it,--the perception of this +surprising fact belongs--" + +"To me!" said the phantom. The Haunted Man continued, in a +despairing tone:-- + +"I see the influence of this in the magazines and daily papers; I +see weak imitators rise up and enfeeble the world with senseless +formula. I am getting tired of it. It won't do, Charles! it won't +do!" and the Haunted Man buried his head in his hands and groaned. +The figure looked down upon him sternly: the portrait in the +frontispiece frowned as he gazed. + +"Wretched man," said the phantom, "and how have these things +affected you?" + +"Once I laughed and cried, but then I was younger. Now, I would +forget them if I could." + +"Have then your wish. And take this with you, man whom I renounce. +From this day henceforth you shall live with those whom I displace. +Without forgetting me, 't will be your lot to walk through life as +if we had not met. But first you shall survey these scenes that +henceforth must be yours. At one to-night, prepare to meet the +phantom I have raised. Farewell!" + +The sound of its voice seemed to fade away with the dying wind, and +the Haunted Man was alone. But the firelight flickered gayly, and +the light danced on the walls, making grotesque figures of the +furniture. + +"Ha, ha!" said the Haunted Man, rubbing his hands gleefully; "now +for a whiskey punch and a cigar." + + +BOOK II. + +THE SECOND PHANTOM. + + +One! The stroke of the far-off bell had hardly died before the +front door closed with a reverberating clang. Steps were heard +along the passage; the library door swung open of itself, and the +Knocker--yes, the Knocker--slowly strode into the room. The +Haunted Man rubbed his eyes,--no! there could be no mistake about +it,--it was the Knocker's face, mounted on a misty, almost +imperceptible body. The brazen rod was transferred from its mouth +to its right hand, where it was held like a ghostly truncheon. + +"It's a cold evening," said the Haunted Man. + +"It is," said the Goblin, in a hard, metallic voice. + +"It must be pretty cold out there," said the Haunted Man, with +vague politeness. "Do you ever--will you--take some hot water and +brandy?" + +"No," said the Goblin. + +"Perhaps you'd like it cold, by way of change?" continued the +Haunted Man, correcting himself, as he remembered the peculiar +temperature with which the Goblin was probably familiar. + +"Time flies," said the Goblin coldly. "We have no leisure for idle +talk. Come!" He moved his ghostly truncheon toward the window, +and laid his hand upon the other's arm. At his touch the body of +the Haunted Man seemed to become as thin and incorporeal as that of +the Goblin himself, and together they glided out of the window into +the black and blowy night. + +In the rapidity of their flight the senses of the Haunted Man +seemed to leave him. At length they stopped suddenly. + +"What do you see?" asked the Goblin. + +"I see a battlemented mediaeval castle. Gallant men in mail ride +over the drawbridge, and kiss their gauntleted fingers to fair +ladies, who wave their lily hands in return. I see fight and fray +and tournament. I hear roaring heralds bawling the charms of +delicate women, and shamelessly proclaiming their lovers. Stay. I +see a Jewess about to leap from a battlement. I see knightly +deeds, violence, rapine, and a good deal of blood. I've seen +pretty much the same at Astley's." + +"Look again." + +"I see purple moors, glens, masculine women, bare-legged men, +priggish book-worms, more violence, physical excellence, and blood. +Always blood,--and the superiority of physical attainments." + +"And how do you feel now?" said the Goblin. + +The Haunted Man shrugged his shoulders. "None the better for being +carried back and asked to sympathize with a barbarous age." + +The Goblin smiled and clutched his arm; they again sped rapidly +through the black night and again halted. + +"What do you see?" said the Goblin. + +"I see a barrack room, with a mess table, and a group of +intoxicated Celtic officers telling funny stories, and giving +challenges to duel. I see a young Irish gentleman capable of +performing prodigies of valor. I learn incidentally that the acme +of all heroism is the cornetcy of a dragoon regiment. I hear a +good deal of French! No, thank you," said the Haunted Man +hurriedly, as he stayed the waving hand of the Goblin; "I would +rather NOT go to the Peninsula, and don't care to have a private +interview with Napoleon." + +Again the Goblin flew away with the unfortunate man, and from a +strange roaring below them he judged they were above the ocean. A +ship hove in sight, and the Goblin stayed its flight. "Look," he +said, squeezing his companion's arm. + +The Haunted Man yawned. "Don't you think, Charles, you're rather +running this thing into the ground? Of course it's very moral and +instructive, and all that. But ain't there a little too much +pantomime about it? Come now!" + +"Look!" repeated the Goblin, pinching his arm malevolently. The +Haunted Man groaned. + +"O, of course, I see her Majesty's ship Arethusa. Of course I am +familiar with her stern First Lieutenant, her eccentric Captain, +her one fascinating and several mischievous midshipmen. Of course +I know it's a splendid thing to see all this, and not to be +seasick. O, there the young gentlemen are going to play a trick on +the purser. For God's sake, let us go," and the unhappy man +absolutely dragged the Goblin away with him. + +When they next halted, it was at the edge of a broad and boundless +prairie, in the middle of an oak opening. + +"I see," said the Haunted Man, without waiting for his cue, but +mechanically, and as if he were repeating a lesson which the Goblin +had taught him,--"I see the Noble Savage. He is very fine to look +at! But I observe under his war-paint, feathers, and picturesque +blanket, dirt, disease, and an unsymmetrical contour. I observe +beneath his inflated rhetoric deceit and hypocrisy; beneath his +physical hardihood, cruelty, malice, and revenge. The Noble Savage +is a humbug. I remarked the same to Mr. Catlin." + +"Come," said the phantom. + +The Haunted Man sighed, and took out his watch. "Couldn't we do +the rest of this another time?" + +"My hour is almost spent, irreverent being, but there is yet a +chance for your reformation. Come!" + +Again they sped through the night, and again halted. The sound of +delicious but melancholy music fell upon their ears. + +"I see," said the Haunted Man, with something of interest in his +manner,--"I see an old moss-covered manse beside a sluggish, +flowing river. I see weird shapes: witches, Puritans, clergymen, +little children, judges, mesmerized maidens, moving to the sound of +melody that thrills me with its sweetness and purity. But, +although carried along its calm and evenly flowing current, the +shapes are strange and frightful: an eating lichen gnaws at the +heart of each. Not only the clergymen, but witch, maiden, judge, +and Puritan, all wear Scarlet Letters of some kind burned upon +their hearts. I am fascinated and thrilled, but I feel a morbid +sensitiveness creeping over me. I--I beg your pardon." The Goblin +was yawning frightfully. "Well, perhaps we had better go." + +"One more, and the last," said the Goblin. + +They were moving home. Streaks of red were beginning to appear in +the eastern sky. Along the banks of the blackly flowing river by +moorland and stagnant fens, by low houses, clustering close to the +water's edge, like strange mollusks, crawled upon the beach to dry; +by misty black barges, the more misty and indistinct seen through +its mysterious veil, the river fog was slowly rising. So rolled +away and rose from the heart of the Haunted Man, etc., etc. + +They stopped before a quaint mansion of red brick. The Goblin +waved his hand without speaking. + +"I see," said the Haunted Man, "a gay drawing-room. I see my old +friends of the club, of the college, of society, even as they lived +and moved. I see the gallant and unselfish men, whom I have loved, +and the snobs whom I have hated. I see strangely mingling with +them, and now and then blending with their forms, our old friends +Dick Steele, Addison, and Congreve. I observe, though, that these +gentlemen have a habit of getting too much in the way. The royal +standard of Queen Anne, not in itself a beautiful ornament, is +rather too prominent in the picture. The long galleries of black +oak, the formal furniture, the old portraits, are picturesque, but +depressing. The house is damp. I enjoy myself better here on the +lawn, where they are getting up a Vanity Fair. See, the bell +rings, the curtain is rising, the puppets are brought out for a new +play. Let me see." + +The Haunted Man was pressing forward in his eagerness, but the hand +of the Goblin stayed him, and pointing to his feet he saw, between +him and the rising curtain, a new-made grave. And bending above +the grave in passionate grief, the Haunted Man beheld the phantom +of the previous night. + + * * * * * + +The Haunted Man started, and--woke. The bright sunshine streamed +into the room. The air was sparkling with frost. He ran joyously +to the window and opened it. A small boy saluted him with "Merry +Christmas." The Haunted Man instantly gave him a Bank of England +note. "How much like Tiny Tim, Tom, and Bobby that boy looked,-- +bless my soul, what a genius this Dickens has!" + +A knock at the door, and Boots entered. + +"Consider your salary doubled instantly. Have you read David +Copperfield?" + +"Yezzur." + +"Your salary is quadrupled. What do you think of the Old Curiosity +Shop?" + +The man instantly burst into a torrent of tears, and then into a +roar of laughter. + +"Enough! Here are five thousand pounds. Open a porter-house, and +call it, 'Our Mutual Friend.' Huzza! I feel so happy!" And the +haunted Man danced about the room. + +And so, bathed in the light of that blessed sun, and yet glowing +with the warmth of a good action, the Haunted Man, haunted no +longer, save by those shapes which make the dreams of children +beautiful, reseated himself in his chair, and finished Our Mutual +Friend. + + + +MISS MIX. + +BY CH--L--TTE BR--NTE. + + +CHAPTER I. + + +My earliest impressions are of a huge, misshapen rock, against +which the hoarse waves beat unceasingly. On this rock three +pelicans are standing in a defiant attitude. A dark sky lowers in +the background, while two sea-gulls and a gigantic cormorant eye +with extreme disfavor the floating corpse of a drowned woman in the +foreground. A few bracelets, coral necklaces, and other articles +of jewelry, scattered around loosely, complete this remarkable +picture. + +It is one which, in some vague, unconscious way, symbolizes, to my +fancy, the character of a man. I have never been able to explain +exactly why. I think I must have seen the picture in some +illustrated volume, when a baby, or my mother may have dreamed it +before I was born. + +As a child I was not handsome. When I consulted the triangular bit +of looking-glass which I always carried with me, it showed a pale, +sandy, and freckled face, shaded by locks like the color of seaweed +when the sun strikes it in deep water. My eyes were said to be +indistinctive; they were a faint, ashen gray; but above them rose-- +my only beauty--a high, massive, domelike forehead, with polished +temples, like door-knobs of the purest porcelain. + +Our family was a family of governesses. My mother had been one, +and my sisters had the same occupation. Consequently, when, at the +age of thirteen, my eldest sister handed me the advertisement of +Mr. Rawjester, clipped from that day's "Times," I accepted it as my +destiny. Nevertheless, a mysterious presentiment of an indefinite +future haunted me in my dreams that night, as I lay upon my little +snow-white bed. The next morning, with two bandboxes tied up in +silk handkerchiefs, and a hair trunk, I turned my back upon Minerva +Cottage forever. + + +CHAPTER II. + +Blunderbore Hall, the seat of James Rawjester, Esq., was +encompassed by dark pines and funereal hemlocks on all sides. The +wind sang weirdly in the turrets and moaned through the long-drawn +avenues of the park. As I approached the house I saw several +mysterious figures flit before the windows, and a yell of demoniac +laughter answered my summons at the bell. While I strove to +repress my gloomy forebodings, the housekeeper, a timid, scared- +looking old woman, showed me into the library. + +I entered, overcome with conflicting emotions. I was dressed in a +narrow gown of dark serge, trimmed with black bugles. A thick +green shawl was pinned across my breast. My hands were encased +with black half-mittens worked with steel beads; on my feet were +large pattens, originally the property of my deceased grandmother. +I carried a blue cotton umbrella. As I passed before a mirror, I +could not help glancing at it, nor could I disguise from myself the +fact that I was not handsome. + +Drawing a chair into a recess, I sat down with folded hands, calmly +awaiting the arrival of my master. Once or twice a fearful yell +rang through the house, or the rattling of chains, and curses +uttered in a deep, manly voice, broke upon the oppressive +stillness. I began to feel my soul rising with the emergency of +the moment. + +"You look alarmed, miss. You don't hear anything, my dear, do +you?" asked the housekeeper nervously. + +"Nothing whatever," I remarked calmly, as a terrific scream, +followed by the dragging of chairs and tables in the room above, +drowned for a moment my reply. "It is the silence, on the +contrary, which has made me foolishly nervous." + +The housekeeper looked at me approvingly, and instantly made some +tea for me. + +I drank seven cups; as I was beginning the eighth, I heard a crash, +and the next moment a man leaped into the room through the broken +window. + + +CHAPTER III. + + +The crash startled me from my self-control. The housekeeper bent +toward me and whispered:-- + +"Don't be excited. It's Mr. Rawjester,--he prefers to come in +sometimes in this way. It's his playfulness, ha! ha! ha!" + +"I perceive," I said calmly. "It's the unfettered impulse of a +lofty soul breaking the tyrannizing bonds of custom." And I turned +toward him. + +He had never once looked at me. He stood with his back to the +fire, which set off the herculean breadth of his shoulders. His +face was dark and expressive; his under jaw squarely formed, and +remarkably heavy. I was struck with his remarkable likeness to a +Gorilla. + +As he absently tied the poker into hard knots with his nervous +fingers, I watched him with some interest. Suddenly he turned +toward me:-- + +"Do you think I'm handsome, young woman?" + +"Not classically beautiful," I returned calmly; "but you have, if I +may so express myself, an abstract manliness,--a sincere and +wholesome barbarity which, involving as it does the naturalness--" +But I stopped, for he yawned at that moment,--an action which +singularly developed the immense breadth of his lower jaw,--and I +saw he had forgotten me. Presently he turned to the housekeeper:-- + +"Leave us." + +The old woman withdrew with a courtesy. + +Mr. Rawjester deliberately turned his back upon me and remained +silent for twenty minutes. I drew my shawl the more closely around +my shoulders and closed my eyes. + +"You are the governess?" at length he said. + +"I am, sir." + +"A creature who teaches geography, arithmetic, and the use of the +globes--ha!--a wretched remnant of femininity,--a skimp pattern of +girlhood with a premature flavor of tea-leaves and morality. Ugh!" + +I bowed my head silently. + +"Listen to me, girl!" he said sternly; "this child you have come to +teach--my ward--is not legitimate. She is the offspring of my +mistress,--a common harlot. Ah! Miss Mix, what do you think of me +now?" + +"I admire," I replied calmly, "your sincerity. A mawkish regard +for delicacy might have kept this disclosure to yourself. I only +recognize in your frankness that perfect community of thought and +sentiment which should exist between original natures." + +I looked up; he had already forgotten my presence, and was engaged +in pulling off his boots and coat. This done, he sank down in an +arm-chair before the fire, and ran the poker wearily through his +hair. I could not help pitying him. + +The wind howled dismally without, and the rain beat furiously +against the windows. I crept toward him and seated myself on a low +stool beside his chair. + +Presently he turned, without seeing me, and placed his foot +absently in my lap. I affected not to notice it. But he started +and looked down. + +"You here yet--Carrothead? Ah, I forgot. Do you speak French?" + +"Oui, Monsieur" + +"Taisez-vous!" he said sharply, with singular purity of accent. I +complied. The wind moaned fearfully in the chimney, and the light +burned dimly. I shuddered in spite of myself. "Ah, you tremble, +girl!" + +"It is a fearful night." + +"Fearful! Call you this fearful, ha! ha! ha! Look! you wretched +little atom, look!" and he dashed forward, and, leaping out of the +window, stood like a statue in the pelting storm, with folded arms. +He did not stay long, but in a few minutes returned by way of the +hall chimney. I saw from the way that he wiped his feet on my +dress that he had again forgotten my presence. + +"You are a governess. What can you teach?" he asked, suddenly and +fiercely thrusting his face in mine. + +"Manners!" I replied, calmly. + +"Ha! teach ME!" + +"You mistake yourself," I said, adjusting my mittens. "Your +manners require not the artificial restraint of society. You are +radically polite; this impetuosity and ferociousness is simply the +sincerity which is the basis of a proper deportment. Your +instincts are moral; your better nature, I see, is religious. As +St. Paul justly remarks--see chap. 6, 8, 9, and 10--" + +He seized a heavy candlestick, and threw it at me. I dodged it +submissively but firmly. + +"Excuse me," he remarked, as his under jaw slowly relaxed. "Excuse +me, Miss Mix--but I can't stand St. Paul! Enough--you are +engaged." + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +I followed the housekeeper as she led the way timidly to my room. +As we passed into a dark hall in the wing, I noticed that it was +closed by an iron gate with a grating. Three of the doors on the +corridor were likewise grated. A strange noise, as of shuffling +feet and the howling of infuriated animals, rang through the hall. +Bidding the housekeeper good night, and taking the candle, I +entered my bedchamber. + +I took off my dress, and, putting on a yellow flannel nightgown, +which I could not help feeling did not agree with my complexion, I +composed myself to rest by reading Blair's Rhetoric and Paley's +Moral Philosophy. I had just put out the light, when I heard +voices in the corridor. I listened attentively. I recognized Mr. +Rawjester's stern tones. + +"Have you fed No. 1?" he asked. + +"Yes, sir," said a gruff voice, apparently belonging to a domestic. + +"How's No. 2?" + +"She's a little off her feed, just now, but will pick up in a day +or two!" + +"And No. 3?" + +"Perfectly furious, sir. Her tantrums are ungovernable." + +"Hush!" + +The voices died away, and I sank into a fitful slumber. + +I dreamed that I was wandering through a tropical forest. Suddenly +I saw the figure of a gorilla approaching me. As it neared me, I +recognized the features of Mr. Rawjester. He held his hand to his +side as if in pain. I saw that he had been wounded. He recognized +me and called me by name, but at the same moment the vision changed +to an Ashantee village, where, around the fire, a group of negroes +were dancing and participating in some wild Obi festival. I awoke +with the strain still ringing in my ears. + +"Hokee-pokee wokee fum!" + +Good Heavens! could I be dreaming? I heard the voice distinctly on +the floor below, and smelt something burning. I arose, with an +indistinct presentiment of evil, and hastily putting some cotton in +my ears and tying a towel about my head, I wrapped myself in a +shawl and rushed down stairs. The door of Mr. Rawjester's room was +open. I entered. + +Mr. Rawjester lay apparently in a deep slumber, from which even the +clouds of smoke that came from the burning curtains of his bed +could not rouse him. Around the room a large and powerful negress, +scantily attired, with her head adorned with feathers, was dancing +wildly, accompanying herself with bone castanets. It looked like +some terrible fetich. + +I did not lose my calmness. After firmly emptying the pitcher, +basin, and slop-jar on the burning bed, I proceeded cautiously to +the garden, and, returning with the garden-engine, I directed a +small stream at Mr. Rawjester. + +At my entrance the gigantic negress fled. Mr. Rawjester yawned and +woke. I explained to him, as he rose dripping from the bed, the +reason of my presence. He did not seem to be excited, alarmed, or +discomposed. He gazed at me curiously. + +"So you risked your life to save mine, eh? you canary-colored +teacher of infants." + +I blushed modestly, and drew my shawl tightly over my yellow +flannel nightgown. + +"You love me, Mary Jane,--don't deny it! This trembling shows it!" +He drew me closely toward him, and said, with his deep voice +tenderly modulated:-- + +"How's her pooty tootens,--did she get her 'ittle tootens wet,-- +bess her?" + +I understood his allusion to my feet. I glanced down and saw that +in my hurry I had put on a pair of his old india-rubbers. My feet +were not small or pretty, and the addition did not add to their +beauty. + +"Let me go, sir," I remarked quietly. "This is entirely improper; +it sets a bad example for your child." And I firmly but gently +extricated myself from his grasp. I approached the door. He +seemed for a moment buried in deep thought. + +"You say this was a negress?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Humph, No. 1, I suppose?" + +"Who is Number One, sir?" + +"My FIRST," he remarked, with a significant and sarcastic smile. +Then, relapsing into his old manner, he threw his boots at my head, +and bade me begone. I withdrew calmly. + + +CHAPTER V. + + +My pupil was a bright little girl, who spoke French with a perfect +accent. Her mother had been a French ballet-dancer, which probably +accounted for it. Although she was only six years old, it was easy +to perceive that she had been several times in love. She once said +to me:-- + +"Miss Mix, did you ever have the grande passion? Did you ever feel +a fluttering here?" and she placed her hand upon her small chest, +and sighed quaintly, "a kind of distaste for bonbons and caromels, +when the world seemed as tasteless and hollow as a broken cordial +drop." + +"Then you have felt it, Nina?" I said quietly. "O dear, yes. +There was Buttons,--that was our page, you know,--I loved him +dearly, but papa sent him away. Then there was Dick, the groom, +but he laughed at me, and I suffered misery!" and she struck a +tragic French attitude. "There is to be company here to-morrow," +she added, rattling on with childish naivete, "and papa's +sweetheart--Blanche Marabout--is to be here. You know they say she +is to be my mamma." + +What thrill was this shot through me? But I rose calmly, and, +administering a slight correction to the child, left the apartment. + +Blunderbore House, for the next week, was the scene of gayety and +merriment. That portion of the mansion closed with a grating was +walled up, and the midnight shrieks no longer troubled me. + +But I felt more keenly the degradation of my situation. I was +obliged to help Lady Blanche at her toilet and help her to look +beautiful. For what? To captivate him? O--no, no,--but why this +sudden thrill and faintness? Did he really love her? I had seen +him pinch and swear at her. But I reflected that he had thrown a +candlestick at my head, and my foolish heart was reassured. + +It was a night of festivity, when a sudden message obliged Mr. +Rawjester to leave his guests for a few hours. "Make yourselves +merry, idiots," he added, under his breath, as he passed me. The +door closed and he was gone. + +An half-hour passed. In the midst of the dancing a shriek was +heard, and out of the swaying crowd of fainting women and excited +men a wild figure strode into the room. One glance showed it to be +a highwayman, heavily armed, holding a pistol in each hand. + +"Let no one pass out of this room!" he said, in a voice of thunder. +"The house is surrounded and you cannot escape. The first one who +crosses yonder threshold will be shot like a dog. Gentlemen, I'll +trouble you to approach in single file, and hand me your purses and +watches." + +Finding resistance useless, the order was ungraciously obeyed. + +"Now, ladies, please to pass up your jewelry and trinkets." + +This order was still more ungraciously complied with. As Blanche +handed to the bandit captain her bracelet, she endeavored to +conceal a diamond necklace, the gift of Mr. Rawjester, in her +bosom. But, with a demoniac grin, the powerful brute tore it from +its concealment, and, administering a hearty box on the ear of the +young girl, flung her aside. + +It was now my turn. With a beating heart I made my way to the +robber chieftain, and sank at his feet. "O sir, I am nothing but a +poor governess, pray let me go." + +"O ho! A governess? Give me your last month's wages, then. Give +me what you have stolen from your master!" and he laughed +fiendishly. + +I gazed at him quietly, and said, in a low voice: "I have stolen +nothing from you, Mr. Rawjester!" + +"Ah, discovered! Hush! listen, girl!" he hissed, in a fiercer +whisper, "utter a syllable to frustrate my plans and you die; aid +me, and--" But he was gone. + +In a few moments the party, with the exception of myself, were +gagged and locked in the cellar. The next moment torches were +applied to the rich hangings, and the house was in flames. I felt +a strong hand seize me, and bear me out in the open air and place +me upon the hillside, where I could overlook the burning mansion. +It was Mr. Rawjester. + +"Burn!" he said, as he shook his fist at the flames. Then sinking +on his knees before me, he said hurriedly:-- + +"Mary Jane, I love you; the obstacles to our union are or will be +soon removed. In yonder mansion were confined my three crazy +wives. One of them, as you know, attempted to kill me! Ha! this +is vengeance! But will you be mine?" + +I fell, without a word, upon his neck. + + + +GUY HEAVYSTONE; + +OR, + +"ENTIRE." + +A MUSCULAR NOVEL. + +BY THE AUTHOR or "SWORD AND GUN." + + +CHAPTER I. + +"Nerei repandirostrum incurvicervicum pecus." + + +A dingy, swashy, splashy afternoon in October; a school-yard filled +with a mob of riotous boys. A lot of us standing outside. + +Suddenly came a dull, crashing sound from the school-room. At the +ominous interruption I shuddered involuntarily, and called to +Smithsye:-- + +"What's up, Smithums?" + +"Guy's cleaning out the fourth form," he replied. + +At the same moment George de Coverly passed me, holding his nose, +from whence the bright Norman blood streamed redly. To him the +plebeian Smithsye laughingly:-- + +"Cully! how's his nibs?" + +I pushed the door of the school-room open. There are some +spectacles which a man never forgets. The burning of Troy probably +seemed a large-sized conflagration to the pious Aeneas, and made an +impression on him which he carried away with the feeble Anchises. + +In the centre of the room, lightly brandishing the piston-rod of a +steam-engine, stood Guy Heavystone alone. I say alone, for the +pile of small boys on the floor in the corner could hardly be +called company. + +I will try and sketch him for the reader. Guy Heavystone was then +only fifteen. His broad, deep chest, his sinewy and quivering +flank, his straight pastern, showed him to be a thoroughbred. +Perhaps he was a trifle heavy in the fetlock, but he held his head +haughtily erect. His eyes were glittering but pitiless. There was +a sternness about the lower part of his face,--the old Heavystone +look,--a sternness, heightened, perhaps, by the snaffle-bit which, +in one of his strange freaks, he wore in his mouth to curb his +occasional ferocity. His dress was well adapted to his square-set +and herculean frame. A striped knit undershirt, close-fitting +striped tights, and a few spangles set off his figure; a neat +Glengarry cap adorned his head. On it was displayed the Heavystone +crest, a cock regardant on a dunghill or, and the motto, "Devil a +better!" + +I thought of Horatius on the bridge, of Hector before the walls. I +always make it a point to think of something classical at such +times. + +He saw me, and his sternness partly relaxed. Something like a +smile struggled through his grim lineaments. It was like looking +on the Jungfrau after having seen Mont Blanc,--a trifle, only a +trifle less sublime and awful. Resting his hand lightly on the +shoulder of the head-master, who shuddered and collapsed under his +touch, he strode toward me. + +His walk was peculiar. You could not call it a stride. It was +like the "crest-tossing Bellerophon,"--a kind of prancing gait. +Guy Heavystone pranced toward me. + + +CHAPTER II. + + +"Lord Lovel he stood at the garden gate, +A-combing his milk-white steed." + + +It was the winter of 186- when I next met Guy Heavystone. He had +left the University and had entered the 76th "Heavies." "I have +exchanged the gown for the sword, you see," he said, grasping my +hand, and fracturing the bones of my little finger, as he shook it. + +I gazed at him with unmixed admiration. He was squarer, sterner, +and in every way smarter and more remarkable than ever. I began to +feel toward this man as Phalaster felt towards Phyrgino, as +somebody must have felt toward Archididasculus, as Boswell felt +toward Johnson. + +"Come into my den," he said, and lifting me gently by the seat of +my pantaloons he carried me up stairs and deposited me, before I +could apologize, on the sofa. I looked around the room. It was a +bachelor's apartment, characteristically furnished in the taste of +the proprietor. A few claymores and battle-axes were ranged +against the wall, and a culverin, captured by Sir Ralph Heavystone, +occupied the corner, the other end of the room being taken up by a +light battery. Foils, boxing-gloves, saddles, and fishing-poles +lay around carelessly. A small pile of billets-doux lay upon a +silver salver. The man was not an anchorite, nor yet a Sir +Galahad. + +I never could tell what Guy thought of women. "Poor little +beasts," he would often say when the conversation turned on any of +his fresh conquests. Then, passing his hand over his marble brow, +the old look of stern fixedness of purpose and unflinching severity +would straighten the lines of his mouth, and he would mutter, half +to himself, "S'death!" + +"Come with me to Heavystone Grange. The Exmoor Hounds throw off +to-morrow. I'll give you a mount," he said, as he amused himself +by rolling up a silver candlestick between his fingers. "You shall +have Cleopatra. But stay," he added, thoughtfully; "now I +remember, I ordered Cleopatra to be shot this morning." + +"And why?" I queried. + +"She threw her rider yesterday and fell on him--" + +"And killed him?" + +"No. That's the reason why I have ordered her to be shot. I keep +no animals that are not dangerous--I should add--DEADLY!" He +hissed the last sentence between his teeth, and a gloomy frown +descended over his calm brow. + +I affected to turn over the tradesman's bills that lay on the +table, for, like all of the Heavystone race, Guy seldom paid cash, +and said:-- + +"You remind me of the time when Leonidas--" + +"O, bother Leonidas and your classical allusions. Come!" + +We descended to dinner. + + +CHAPTER III. + + +"He carries weight, he rides a race, +'Tis for a thousand pound." + + +"There is Flora Billingsgate, the greatest coquette and hardest +rider in the country," said my companion, Ralph Mortmain, as we +stood upon Dingleby Common before the meet. + +I looked up and beheld Guy Heavystone bending haughtily over the +saddle, as he addressed a beautiful brunette. She was indeed a +splendidly groomed and high-spirited woman. We were near enough to +overhear the following conversation, which any high-toned reader +will recognize as the common and natural expression of the higher +classes. + +"When Diana takes the field the chase is not wholly confined to +objects ferae naturae," said Guy, darting a significant glance at +his companion. Flora did not shrink either from the glance or the +meaning implied in the sarcasm. + +"If I were looking for an Endymion, now--" she said archly, as she +playfully cantered over a few hounds and leaped a five-barred gate. + +Guy whispered a few words, inaudible to the rest of the party, and, +curvetting slightly, cleverly cleared two of the huntsmen in a +flying leap, galloped up the front steps of the mansion, and +dashing at full speed through the hall leaped through the drawing- +room window and rejoined me, languidly, on the lawn. + +"Be careful of Flora Billingsgate," he said to me, in low stern +tones, while his pitiless eye shot a baleful fire. "Gardez vous!" + +"Gnothi seauton," I replied calmly, not wishing to appear to be +behind him in perception or verbal felicity. + +Guy started off in high spirits. He was well carried. He and the +first whip, a ten-stone man, were head and head at the last fence, +while the hounds were rolling over their fox a hundred yards +farther in the open. + +But an unexpected circumstance occurred. Coming back, his chestnut +mare refused a ten-foot wall. She reared and fell backward. Again +he led her up to it lightly; again she refused, falling heavily +from the coping. Guy started to his feet. The old pitiless fire +shone in his eyes; the old stern look settled around his mouth. +Seizing the mare by the tail and mane he threw her over the wall. +She landed twenty feet on the other side, erect and trembling. +Lightly leaping the same obstacle himself, he remounted her. She +did not refuse the wall the next time. + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +"He holds him by his glittering eye." + + +Guy was in the North of Ireland, cock-shooting. So Ralph Mortmain +told me, and also that the match between Mary Brandagee and Guy had +been broken off by Flora Billingsgate. "I don't like those +Billingsgates," said Ralph, "they're a bad stock. Her father, +Smithfield de Billingsgate, had an unpleasant way of turning up the +knave from the bottom of the pack. But nous verrons; let us go and +see Guy." + +The next morning we started for Fin-ma-Coul's Crossing. When I +reached the shooting-box, where Guy was entertaining a select +company of friends, Flora Billingsgate greeted me with a saucy +smile. + +Guy was even squarer and sterner than ever. His gusts of passion +were more frequent, and it was with difficulty that he could keep +an able-bodied servant in his family. His present retainers were +more or less maimed from exposure to the fury of their master. +There was a strange cynicism, a cutting sarcasm in his address, +piercing through his polished manner. I thought of Timon, etc., +etc. + +One evening, we were sitting over our Chambertin, after a hard +day's work, and Guy was listlessly turning over some letters, when +suddenly he uttered a cry. Did you ever hear the trumpeting of a +wounded elephant? It was like that. + +I looked at him with consternation. He was glancing at a letter +which he held at arm's length, and snorting, as it were, at it as +he gazed. The lower part of his face was stern, but not as rigid +as usual. He was slowly grinding between his teeth the fragments +of the glass he had just been drinking from. Suddenly he seized +one of his servants, and, forcing the wretch upon his knees, +exclaimed, with the roar of a tiger:-- + +"Dog! why was this kept from me?" + +"Why, please, sir, Miss Flora said as how it was a reconciliation +from Miss Brandagee, and it was to be kept from you where you would +not be likely to see it,--and--and--" + +"Speak, dog! and you--" + +"I put it among your bills, sir!" + +With a groan, like distant thunder, Guy fell swooning to the floor. + +He soon recovered, for the next moment a servant came rushing into +the room with the information that a number of the ingenuous +peasantry of the neighborhood were about to indulge that evening in +the national pastime of burning a farm-house and shooting a +landlord. Guy smiled a fearful smile, without, however, altering +his stern and pitiless expression. + +"Let them come," he said calmly; "I feel like entertaining +company." + +We barricaded the doors and windows, and then chose our arms from +the armory. Guy's choice was a singular one: it was a landing net +with a long handle, and a sharp cavalry sabre. + +We were not destined to remain long in ignorance of its use. A +howl was heard from without, and a party of fifty or sixty armed +men precipitated themselves against the door. + +Suddenly the window opened. With the rapidity of lightning, Guy +Heavystone cast the net over the head of the ringleader, ejaculated +"Habet!" and with a back stroke of his cavalry sabre severed the +member from its trunk, and, drawing the net back again, cast the +gory head upon the floor, saying quietly:-- + +"One." + +Again the net was cast, the steel flashed, the net was withdrawn, +and an ominous "Two!" accompanied the head as it rolled on the +floor. + +"Do you remember what Pliny says of the gladiator?" said Guy, +calmly wiping his sabre. "How graphic is that passage commencing +'Inter nos, etc.'" The sport continued until the heads of twenty +desperadoes had been gathered in. The rest seemed inclined to +disperse. Guy incautiously showed himself at the door; a ringing +shot was heard, and he staggered back, pierced through the heart. +Grasping the door-post in the last unconscious throes of his mighty +frame, the whole side of the house yielded to that earthquake +tremor, and we had barely time to escape before the whole building +fell in ruins. I thought of Samson, the Giant Judge, etc., etc.; +but all was over. + +Guy Heavystone had died as he had lived,--HARD. + + + +MR. MIDSHIPMAN BREEZY. + +A NAVAL OFFICER. + +BY CAPTAIN M--RRY--T, R. N. + + +CHAPTER I. + + +My father was a north-country surgeon. He had retired, a widower, +from her Majesty's navy many years before, and had a small practice +in his native village. When I was seven years old he employed me +to carry medicines to his patients. Being of a lively disposition, +I sometimes amused myself; during my daily rounds, by mixing the +contents of the different phials. Although I had no reason to +doubt that the general result of this practice was beneficial, yet, +as the death of a consumptive curate followed the addition of a +strong mercurial lotion to his expectorant, my father concluded to +withdraw me from the profession and send me to school. + +Grubbins, the schoolmaster, was a tyrant, and it was not long +before my impetuous and self-willed nature rebelled against his +authority. I soon began to form plans of revenge. In this I was +assisted by Tom Snaffle,--a schoolfellow. One day Tom suggested:-- + +"Suppose we blow him up. I've got two pounds of powder!" + +"No, that's too noisy," I replied. + +Tom was silent for a minute, and again spoke:-- + +"You remember how you flattened out the curate, Pills! Couldn't +you give Grubbins something--something to make him leathery sick-- +eh?" + +A flash of inspiration crossed my mind. I went to the shop of the +village apothecary. He knew me; I had often purchased vitriol, +which I poured into Grubbins's inkstand to corrode his pens and +burn up his coat-tail, on which he was in the habit of wiping them. +I boldly asked for an ounce of chloroform. The young apothecary +winked and handed me the bottle. + +It was Grubbins's custom to throw his handkerchief over his head, +recline in his chair and take a short nap during recess. Watching +my opportunity, as he dozed, I managed to slip his handkerchief +from his face and substitute my own, moistened with chloroform. In +a few minutes he was insensible. Tom and I then quickly shaved his +head, beard, and eyebrows, blackened his face with a mixture of +vitriol and burnt cork, and fled. There was a row and scandal the +next day. My father always excused me by asserting that Grubbins +had got drunk,--but somehow found it convenient to procure me an +appointment in her Majesty's navy at an early day. + + +CHAPTER II. + + +An official letter, with the Admiralty seal, informed me that I was +expected to join H. M. ship Belcher, Captain Boltrope, at +Portsmouth, without delay. In a few days I presented myself to a +tall, stern-visaged man, who was slowly pacing the leeward side of +the quarter-deck. As I touched my hat he eyed me sternly:-- + +"So ho! Another young suckling. The service is going to the +devil. Nothing but babes in the cockpit and grannies in the board. +Boatswain's mate, pass the word for Mr. Cheek!" + +Mr. Cheek, the steward, appeared and touched his hat. "Introduce +Mr. Breezy to the young gentlemen. Stop! Where's Mr. Swizzle?" + +"At the masthead, sir." + +"Where's Mr. Lankey?" + +"At the masthead, sir." + +"Mr. Briggs?" + +"Masthead, too, sir." + +"And the rest of the young gentlemen?" roared the enraged officer. + +"All masthead, sir." + +"Ah!" said Captain Boltrope, as he smiled grimly, "under the +circumstances, Mr. Breezy, you had better go to the masthead too." + + +CHAPTER III. + + +At the masthead I made the acquaintance of two youngsters of about +my own age, one of whom informed me that he had been there three +hundred and thirty-two days out of the year. + +"In rough weather, when the old cock is out of sorts, you know, we +never come down," added a young gentleman of nine years, with a +dirk nearly as long as himself, who had been introduced to me as +Mr. Briggs. "By the way, Pills," be continued, "how did you come +to omit giving the captain a naval salute?" + +"Why, I touched my hat," I said, innocently. + +"Yes, but that isn't enough, you know. That will do very well at +other times. He expects the naval salute when you first come on +board--greeny!" + +I began to feel alarmed, and begged him to explain. + +"Why, you see, after touching your hat, you should have touched him +lightly with your forefinger in his waistcoat, so, and asked, +'How's his nibs?'--you see?" + +"How's his nibs?" I repeated. + +"Exactly. He would have drawn back a little, and then you should +have repeated the salute remarking, 'How's his royal nibs?' asking +cautiously after his wife and family, and requesting to be +introduced to the gunner's daughter." + +"The gunner's daughter?" + +"The same; you know she takes care of us young gentlemen; now don't +forget, Pillsy!" + +When we were called down to the deck I thought it a good chance to +profit by this instruction. I approached Captain Boltrope and +repeated the salute without conscientiously omitting a single +detail. He remained for a moment, livid and speechless. At length +he gasped out:-- + +"Boatswain's mate?" + +"If you please, sir," I asked, tremulously, "I should like to be +introduced to the gunner's daughter!" + +"O, very good, sir!" screamed Captain Boltrope, rubbing his hands +and absolutely capering about the deck with rage. "O d--n you! Of +course you shall! O ho! the gunner's daughter! O, h--ll! this is +too much! Boatswain's mate!" Before I well knew where I was, I +was seized, borne to an eight-pounder, tied upon it and flogged! + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +As we sat together in the cockpit, picking the weevils out of our +biscuit, Briggs consoled me for my late mishap, adding that the +"naval salute," as a custom, seemed just then to be honored more in +the BREACH than the observance. I joined in the hilarity +occasioned by the witticism, and in a few moments we were all +friends. Presently Swizzle turned to me:-- + +"We have been just planning how to confiscate a keg of claret, +which Nips, the purser, keeps under his bunk. The old nipcheese +lies there drunk half the day, and there's no getting at it." + +"Let's get beneath the state-room and bore through the deck, and so +tap it," said Lankey. + +The proposition was received with a shout of applause. A long +half-inch auger and bit was procured from Chips, the carpenter's +mate, and Swizzle, after a careful examination of the timbers +beneath the ward-room, commenced operations. The auger at last +disappeared, when suddenly there was a slight disturbance on the +deck above. Swizzle withdrew the auger hurriedly; from its point a +few bright red drops trickled. + +"Huzza! send her up again!" cried Lankey. + +The auger was again applied. This time a shriek was heard from the +purser's cabin. Instantly the light was doused, and the party +retreated hurriedly to the cockpit. A sound of snoring was heard +as the sentry stuck his head into the door. "All right, sir," he +replied in answer to the voice of the officer of the deck. + +The next morning we heard that Nips was in the surgeon's hands, +with a bad wound in the fleshy part of his leg, and that the auger +had NOT struck claret. + + +CHAPTER V. + + +"Now, Pills, you'll have a chance to smell powder," said Briggs as +he entered the cockpit and buckled around his waist an enormous +cutlass. "We have just sighted a French ship." + +We went on deck. Captain Boltrope grinned as we touched our hats. +He hated the purser. "Come, young gentlemen, if you're boring for +french claret, yonder's a good quality. Mind your con, sir," he +added, turning to the quartermaster, who was grinning. + +The ship was already cleared for action. The men, in their +eagerness, had started the coffee from the tubs and filled them +with shot. Presently the Frenchman yawed, and a shot from a long +thirty-two came skipping over the water. It killed the +quartermaster and took off both of Lankey's legs. "Tell the purser +our account is squared," said the dying boy, with a feeble smile. + +The fight raged fiercely for two hours. I remember killing the +French Admiral, as we boarded, but on looking around for Briggs, +after the smoke had cleared away, I was intensely amused at +witnessing the following novel sight:-- + +Briggs had pinned the French captain against the mast with his +cutlass, and was now engaged, with all the hilarity of youth, in +pulling the captain's coat-tails between his legs, in imitation of +a dancing-jack. As the Frenchman lifted his legs and arms, at each +jerk of Briggs's, I could not help participating in the general +mirth. + +"You young devil, what are you doing?" said a stifled voice behind +me. I looked up and beheld Captain Boltrope, endeavoring to calm +his stern features, but the twitching around his mouth betrayed his +intense enjoyment of the scene. "Go to the masthead--up with you, +sir!" he repeated sternly to Briggs. + +"Very good, sir," said the boy, coolly preparing to mount the +shrouds. "Good by, Johnny Crapaud. Humph!" he added, in a tone +intended for my ear, "a pretty way to treat a hero. The service is +going to the devil!" + +I thought so too. + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +We were ordered to the West Indies. Although Captain Boltrope's +manner toward me was still severe, and even harsh, I understood +that my name had been favorably mentioned in the despatches. + +Reader, were you ever at Jamaica? If so, you remember the +negresses, the oranges, Port Royal Tom--the yellow fever. After +being two weeks at the station, I was taken sick of the fever. In +a month I was delirious. During my paroxysms, I had a wild +distempered dream of a stern face bending anxiously over my pillow, +a rough hand smoothing my hair, and a kind voice saying:-- + +"Bess his 'ittle heart! Did he have the naughty fever?" This face +seemed again changed to the well-known stern features of Captain +Boltrope. + +When I was convalescent, a packet edged in black was put in my +hand. It contained the news of my father's death, and a sealed +letter which he had requested to be given to me on his decease. I +opened it tremblingly. It read thus:-- + + +"My dear Boy:--I regret to inform you that in all probability you +are not my son. Your mother, I am grieved to say, was a highly +improper person. Who your father may be, I really cannot say, but +perhaps the Honorable Henry Boltrope, Captain R. N., may be able to +inform you. Circumstances over which I have no control have +deferred this important disclosure. + +"YOUR STRICKEN PARENT." + + +And so Captain Boltrope was my father. Heavens! Was it a dream? +I recalled his stern manner, his observant eye, his ill-concealed +uneasiness when in my presence. I longed to embrace him. +Staggering to my feet, I rushed in my scanty apparel to the deck, +where Captain Boltrope was just then engaged in receiving the +Governor's wife and daughter. The ladies shrieked; the youngest, a +beautiful girl, blushed deeply. Heeding them not, I sank at his +feet, and, embracing them, cried:-- + +"My father!" + +"Chuck him overboard!" roared Captain Boltrope. + +"Stay," pleaded the soft voice of Clara Maitland, the Governor's +daughter. + +"Shave his head! he's a wretched lunatic!" continued Captain +Boltrope, while his voice trembled with excitement. + +"No, let me nurse and take care of him," said the lovely girl, +blushing as she spoke. "Mamma, can't we take him home?" + +The daughter's pleading was not without effect. In the mean time I +had fainted. When I recovered my senses I found myself in Governor +Maitland's mansion. + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +The reader will guess what followed. I fell deeply in love with +Clara Maitland, to whom I confided the secret of my birth. The +generous girl asserted that she had detected the superiority of my +manner at once. We plighted our troth, and resolved to wait upon +events. + +Briggs called to see me a few days afterward. He said that the +purser had insulted the whole cockpit, and all the midshipmen had +called him out. But he added thoughtfully: "I don't see how we can +arrange the duel. You see there are six of us to fight him." + +"Very easily," I replied. "Let your fellows all stand in a row, +and take his fire; that, you see, gives him six chances to one, and +he must be a bad shot if he can't hit one of you; while, on the +other hand, you see, he gets a volley from you six, and one of +you'll be certain to fetch him." + +"Exactly"; and away Briggs went, but soon returned to say that the +purser had declined,--"like a d--d coward," he added. + +But the news of the sudden and serious illness of Captain Boltrope +put off the duel. I hastened to his bedside, but too late,--an +hour previous he had given up the ghost. + +I resolved to return to England. I made known the secret of my +birth, and exhibited my adopted father's letter to Lady Maitland, +who at once suggested my marriage with her daughter, before I +returned to claim the property. We were married, and took our +departure next day. + +I made no delay in posting at once, in company with my wife and my +friend Briggs, to my native village. Judge of my horror and +surprise when my late adopted father came out of his shop to +welcome me. + +"Then you are not dead!" I gasped. + +"No, my dear boy." + +"And this letter?" + +My father--as I must still call him--glanced on the paper, and +pronounced it a forgery. Briggs roared with laughter. I turned to +him and demanded an explanation. + +"Why, don't you see, Greeny, it's all a joke,--a midshipman's +joke!" + +"But--" I asked. + +"Don't be a fool. You've got a good wife,--be satisfied." + +I turned to Clara, and was satisfied. Although Mrs. Maitland never +forgave me, the jolly old Governor laughed heartily over the joke, +and so well used his influence that I soon became, dear reader, +Admiral Breezy, K. C. B. + + + +JOHN JENKINS; + +OR, + +THE SMOKER REFORMED. + +BY T. S. A--TH--R. + + +CHAPTER I. + + +One cigar a day!" said Judge Boompointer. + +One cigar a day!" repeated John Jenkins, as with trepidation he +dropped his half-consumed cigar under his work-bench. + +"One cigar a day is three cents a day," remarked Judge Boompointer, +gravely; "and do you know, sir, what one cigar a day, or three +cents a day, amounts to in the course of four years?" + +John Jenkins, in his boyhood, had attended the village school, and +possessed considerable arithmetical ability. Taking up a shingle +which lay upon his work-bench, and producing a piece of chalk, with +a feeling of conscious pride he made an exhaustive calculation. + +"Exactly forty-three dollars and eighty cents," he replied, wiping +the perspiration from his heated brow, while his face flushed with +honest enthusiasm. + +"Well, sir, if you saved three cents a day, instead of wasting it, +you would now be the possessor of a new suit of clothes, an +illustrated Family Bible, a pew in the church, a complete set of +Patent Office Reports, a hymn-book, and a paid subscription to +Arthur's Home Magazine, which could be purchased for exactly forty- +three dollars and eighty cents; and," added the Judge, with +increasing sternness, "if you calculate leap-year, which you seem +to have strangely omitted, you have three cents more, sir; THREE +CENTS MORE! What would that buy you, sir?" + +"A cigar," suggested John Jenkins; but, coloring again deeply, he +hid his face. + +"No, sir," said the Judge, with a sweet smile of benevolence +stealing over his stern features; "properly invested, it would buy +you that which passeth all price. Dropped into the missionary-box, +who can tell what heathen, now idly and joyously wantoning in +nakedness and sin, might be brought to a sense of his miserable +condition, and made, through that three cents, to feel the torments +of the wicked?" + +With these words the Judge retired, leaving John Jenkins buried in +profound thought. "Three cents a day," he muttered. "In forty +years I might be worth four hundred and thirty-eight dollars and +ten cents,--and then I might marry Mary. Ah, Mary!" The young +carpenter sighed, and, drawing a twenty-five cent daguerreotype +from his vest-pocket, gazed long and fervidly upon the features of +a young girl in book muslin and a coral necklace. Then, with a +resolute expression, he carefully locked the door of his workshop +and departed. + +Alas! his good resolutions were too late. We trifle with the tide +of fortune which too often nips us in the bud and casts the dark +shadow of misfortune over the bright lexicon of youth! That night +the half-consumed fragment of John Jenkins's cigar set fire to his +workshop and burned it up, together with all his tools and +materials. There was no insurance. + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE DOWNWARD PATH. + + +"Then you still persist in marrying John Jenkins?" queried Judge +Boompointer, as he playfully, with paternal familiarity, lifted the +golden curls of the village belle, Mary Jones. + +"I do," replied the fair young girl, in a low voice, that resembled +rock candy in its saccharine firmness,--"I do. He has promised to +reform. Since he lost all his property by fire--" + +"The result of his pernicious habit, though he illogically persists +in charging it to me," interrupted the Judge. + +"Since then," continued the young girl, "he has endeavored to break +himself of the habit. He tells me that he has substituted the +stalks of the Indian ratan, the outer part of a leguminous plant +called the smoking-bean, and the fragmentary and unconsumed +remainder of cigars which occur at rare and uncertain intervals +along the road, which, as he informs me, though deficient in +quality and strength, are comparatively inexpensive." And, +blushing at her own eloquence, the young girl hid her curls on the +Judge's arm. + +"Poor thing!" muttered Judge Boompointer. "Dare I tell her all? +Yet I must." + +"I shall cling to him," continued the young girl, rising with her +theme, "as the young vine clings to some hoary ruin. Nay, nay, +chide me not, Judge Boompointer. I will marry John Jenkins!" + +The Judge was evidently affected. Seating himself at the table, he +wrote a few lines hurriedly upon a piece of paper, which he folded +and placed in the fingers of the destined bride of John Jenkins. + +"Mary Jones," said the Judge, with impressive earnestness, "take +this trifle as a wedding gift from one who respects your fidelity +and truthfulness. At the altar let it be a reminder of me." And +covering his face hastily with a handkerchief, the stern and iron- +willed man left the room. As the door closed, Mary unfolded the +paper. It was an order on the corner grocery for three yards of +flannel, a paper of needles, four pounds of soap, one pound of +starch, and two boxes of matches! + +"Noble and thoughtful man!" was all Mary Jones could exclaim, as +she hid her face in her hands and burst into a flood of tears. + + * * * * * + +The bells of Cloverdale are ringing merrily. It is a wedding. +"How beautiful they look!" is the exclamation that passes from lip +to lip, as Mary Jones, leaning timidly on the arm of John Jenkins, +enters the church. But the bride is agitated, and the bridegroom +betrays a feverish nervousness. As they stand in the vestibule, +John Jenkins fumbles earnestly in his vest-pocket. Can it be the +ring he is anxious about? No. He draws a small brown substance +from his pocket, and biting off a piece, hastily replaces the +fragment and gazes furtively around. Surely no one saw him? Alas! +the eyes of two of that wedding party saw the fatal act. Judge +Boompointer shook his head sternly. Mary Jones sighed and breathed +a silent prayer. Her husband chewed! + + +CHAPTER III. AND LAST. + + +"What! more bread?" said John Jenkins, gruffly. "You're always +asking for money for bread. D--nation! Do you want to ruin me by +your extravagance?" and as he uttered these words he drew from his +pocket a bottle of whiskey, a pipe, and a paper of tobacco. +Emptying the first at a draught, he threw the empty bottle at the +head of his eldest boy, a youth of twelve summers. The missile +struck the child full in the temple, and stretched him a lifeless +corpse. Mrs. Jenkins, whom the reader will hardly recognize as the +once gay and beautiful Mary Jones, raised the dead body of her son +in her arms, and carefully placing the unfortunate youth beside the +pump in the back yard, returned with saddened step to the house. +At another time, and in brighter days, she might have wept at the +occurrence. She was past tears now. + +"Father, your conduct is reprehensible!" said little Harrison +Jenkins, the youngest boy. "Where do you expect to go when you +die?" + +"Ah!" said John Jenkins, fiercely; "this comes of giving children a +liberal education; this is the result of Sabbath schools. Down, +viper!" + +A tumbler thrown from the same parental fist laid out the youthful +Harrison cold. The four other children had, in the mean time, +gathered around the table with anxious expectancy. With a chuckle, +the now changed and brutal John Jenkins produced four pipes, and, +filling them with tobacco, handed one to each of his offspring and +bade them smoke. "It's better than bread!" laughed the wretch +hoarsely. + +Mary Jenkins, though of a patient nature, felt it her duty now to +speak. "I have borne much, John Jenkins," she said. "But I prefer +that the children should not smoke. It is an unclean habit, and +soils their clothes. I ask this as a special favor!" + +John Jenkins hesitated,--the pangs of remorse began to seize him. + +"Promise me this, John!" urged Mary upon her knees. + +"I promise!" reluctantly answered John. + +"And you will put the money in a savings-bank?" + +"I will," repeated her husband; "and I'LL give up smoking, too." + +"'Tis well, John Jenkins!" said Judge Boompointer, appearing +suddenly from behind the door, where he had been concealed during +this interview. "Nobly said! my man. Cheer up! I will see that +the children are decently buried." The husband and wife fell into +each other's arms. And Judge Boompointer, gazing upon the +affecting spectacle, burst into tears. + +From that day John Jenkins was an altered man. + + + +NO TITLE. + +By W--LK--E C--LL--NS. + + +PROLOGUE. + + +The following advertisement appeared in the "Times" of the 17th of +June, 1845:-- + + +WANTED.--A few young men for a light genteel employment. + Address J. W., P. O. + + +In the same paper, of same date, in another column:-- + + +TO LET.--That commodious and elegant family mansion, No. 27 +Limehouse Road, Pultneyville, will be rented low to a respectable +tenant if applied for immediately, the family being about to remove +to the continent. + + +Under the local intelligence, in another column:-- + + +MISSING.--An unknown elderly gentleman a week ago left his lodgings +in the Kent Road, since which nothing has been heard of him. He +left no trace of his identity except a portmanteau containing a +couple of shirts marked "209, WARD." + + +To find the connection between the mysterious disappearance of the +elderly gentleman and the anonymous communication, the relevancy of +both these incidents to the letting of a commodious family mansion, +and the dead secret involved in the three occurrences, is the task +of the writer of this history. + +A slim young man with spectacles, a large hat, drab gaiters, and a +note-book, sat late that night with a copy of the "Times" before +him, and a pencil which he rattled nervously between his teeth in +the coffee-room of the "Blue Dragon." + + +CHAPTER I. + +MARY JONES'S NARRATIVE. + + +I am upper housemaid to the family that live at No. 27 Limehouse +Road, Pultneyville. I have been requested by Mr. Wilkey Collings, +which I takes the liberty of here stating is a gentleman born and +bred, and has some consideration for the feelings of servants, and +is not above rewarding them for their trouble, which is more than +you can say for some who ask questions and gets short answers +enough, gracious knows, to tell what I know about them. I have +been requested to tell my story in my own langwidge, though, being +no schollard, mind cannot conceive. I think my master is a brute. +Do not know that he has ever attempted to poison my missus,--which +is too good for him, and how she ever came to marry him, heart only +can tell,--but believe him to be capable of any such hatrosity. +Have heard him swear dreadful because of not having his shaving- +water at nine o'clock precisely. Do not know whether he ever +forged a will or tried to get my missus' property, although, not +having confidence in the man, should not be surprised if he had +done so. Believe that there was always something mysterious in his +conduct. Remember distinctly how the family left home to go +abroad. Was putting up my back hair, last Saturday morning, when I +heard a ring. Says cook, "That's missus' bell, and mind you hurry +or the master 'ill know why." Says I, "Humbly thanking you, mem, +but taking advice of them as is competent to give it, I'll take my +time." Found missus dressing herself and master growling as usual. +Says missus, quite calm and easy like, "Mary, we begin to pack to- +day." "What for, mem?" says I, taken aback. "What's that hussy +asking?" says master from the bedclothes quite savage like. "For +the Continent--Italy," says missus--"Can you go Mary?" Her voice +was quite gentle and saintlike, but I knew the struggle it cost, +and says I, "With YOU mem, to India's torrid clime, if required, +but with African Gorillas," says I, looking toward the bed, +"never." "Leave the room," says master, starting up and catching +of his bootjack. "Why Charles!" says missus, "how you talk!" +affecting surprise. "Do go Mary," says she, slipping a half-crown +into my hand. I left the room scorning to take notice of the +odious wretch's conduct. + +Cannot say whether my master and missus were ever legally married. +What with the dreadful state of morals nowadays and them stories in +the circulating libraries, innocent girls don't know into what +society they might be obliged to take situations. Never saw +missus' marriage certificate, though I have quite accidental-like +looked in her desk when open, and would have seen it. Do not know +of any lovers missus might have had. Believe she had a liking for +John Thomas, footman, for she was always spiteful-like--poor lady-- +when we were together--though there was nothing between us, as Cook +well knows, and dare not deny, and missus needn't have been +jealous. Have never seen arsenic or Prussian acid in any of the +private drawers--but have seen paregoric and camphor. One of my +master's friends was a Count Moscow, a Russian papist--which I +detested. + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE SLIM YOUNG MAN'S STORY. + + +I am by profession a reporter, and writer for the press. I live at +Pultneyville. I have always had a passion for the marvellous, and +have been distinguished for my facility in tracing out mysteries, +and solving enigmatical occurrences. On the night of the 17th +June, 1845, I left my office and walked homeward. The night was +bright and starlight. I was revolving in my mind the words of a +singular item I had just read in the "Times." I had reached the +darkest portion of the road, and found my self mechanically +repeating: "An elderly gentleman a week ago left his lodgings on +the Kent Road," when suddenly I heard a step behind me. + +I turned quickly, with an expression of horror in my face, and by +the light of the newly risen moon beheld an elderly gentleman, with +green cotton umbrella, approaching me. His hair, which was snow +white, was parted over a broad, open forehead. The expression of +his face, which was slightly flushed, was that of amiability +verging almost upon imbecility. There was a strange, inquiring +look about the widely opened mild blue eye,--a look that might have +been intensified to insanity, or modified to idiocy. As he passed +me, he paused and partly turned his face, with a gesture of +inquiry. I see him still, his white locks blowing in the evening +breeze, his hat a little on the back of his head, and his figure +painted in relief against the dark blue sky. + +Suddenly he turned his mild eye full upon me. A weak smile played +about his thin lips. In a voice which had something of the +tremulousness of age and the self-satisfied chuckle of imbecility +in it, he asked, pointing to the rising moon, "Why?--hush!" + +He had dodged behind me, and appeared to be looking anxiously down +the road. I could feel his aged frame shaking with terror as he +laid his thin hands upon my shoulders and faced me in the direction +of the supposed danger. + +"Hush! did you not hear them coming?" + +I listened; there was no sound but the soughing of the roadside +trees in the evening wind. I endeavored to reassure him, with such +success that in a few moments the old weak smile appeared on his +benevolent face. + +"Why?--" But the look of interrogation was succeeded by a hopeless +blankness. + +"Why!" I repeated with assuring accents. + +"Why," he said, a gleam of intelligence flickering over his face, +"is yonder moon, as she sails in the blue empyrean, casting a flood +of light o'er hill and dale, like-- Why," he repeated, with a +feeble smile, "is yonder moon, as she sails in the blue empyrean--" +He hesitated,--stammered,--and gazed at me hopelessly, with the +tears dripping from his moist and widely opened eyes. + +I took his hand kindly in my own. "Casting a shadow o'er hill and +dale," I repeated quietly, leading him up the subject, "like-- +Come, now." + +"Ah!" he said, pressing my hand tremulously, "you know it?" + +"I do. Why is it like--the--eh--the commodious mansion on the +Limehouse Road?" + +A blank stare only followed. He shook his head sadly. "Like the +young men wanted for a light, genteel employment?" + +He wagged his feeble old head cunningly. + +"Or, Mr. Ward," I said, with bold confidence, "like the mysterious +disappearance from the Kent Road?" + +The moment was full of suspense. He did not seem to hear me. +Suddenly he turned. + +"Ha!" + +I darted forward. But he had vanished in the darkness. + + +CHAPTER III. + +NO. 27 LIMEHOUSE ROAD. + + +It was a hot midsummer evening. Limehouse Road was deserted save +by dust and a few rattling butchers' carts, and the bell of the +muffin and crumpet man. A commodious mansion, which stood on the +right of the road as you enter Pultneyville, surrounded by stately +poplars and a high fence surmounted by a chevaux de frise of broken +glass, looked to the passing and footsore pedestrian like the +genius of seclusion and solitude. A bill announcing in the usual +terms that the house was to let, hung from the bell at the +servants' entrance. + +As the shades of evening closed, and the long shadows of the +poplars stretched across the road, a man carrying a small kettle +stopped and gazed, first at the bill and then at the house. When +he had reached the corner of the fence, he again stopped and looked +cautiously up and down the road. Apparently satisfied with the +result of his scrutiny, he deliberately sat himself down in the +dark shadow of the fence, and at once busied himself in some +employment, so well concealed as to be invisible to the gaze of +passers-by. At the end of an hour he retired cautiously. + +But not altogether unseen. A slim young man, with spectacles and +note-book, stepped from behind a tree as the retreating figure of +the intruder was lost in the twilight, and transferred from the +fence to his note-book the freshly stencilled inscription, "S--T-- +1860--X." + + +CHAPTER IV. + +COUNT MOSCOW'S NARRATIVE. + + +I am a foreigner. Observe! To be a foreigner in England is to be +mysterious, suspicious, intriguing. M. Collins has requested the +history of my complicity with certain occurrences. It is nothing, +bah! absolutely nothing. + +I write with ease and fluency. Why should I not write? Tra la la? +I am what you English call corpulent. Ha, ha! I am a pupil of +Macchiavelli. I find it much better to disbelieve everything, and +to approach my subject and wishes circuitously, than in a direct +manner. You have observed that playful animal, the cat. Call it, +and it does not come to you directly, but rubs itself against all +the furniture in the room, and reaches you finally--and scratches. +Ah, ha, scratches! I am of the feline species. People call me a +villain--bah! + +I know the family, living No. 27 Limehouse Road. I respect the +gentleman,--a fine, burly specimen of your Englishman,--and madame, +charming, ravishing, delightful. When it became known to me that +they designed to let their delightful residence, and visit foreign +shores, I at once called upon them. I kissed the hand of madame. +I embraced the great Englishman. Madame blushed slightly. The +great Englishman shook my hand like a mastiff. + +I began in that dexterous, insinuating manner, of which I am truly +proud. I thought madame was ill. Ah, no. A change, then, was all +that was required. I sat down at the piano and sang. In a few +minutes madame retired. I was alone with my friend. + +Seizing his hand, I began with every demonstration of courteous +sympathy. I do not repeat my words, for my intention was conveyed +more in accent, emphasis, and manner, than speech. I hinted to him +that he had another wife living. I suggested that this was +balanced--ha!--by his wife's lover. That, possibly, he wished to +fly; hence the letting of his delightful mansion. That he +regularly and systematically beat his wife in the English manner, +and that she repeatedly deceived me. I talked of hope, of +consolation, of remedy. I carelessly produced a bottle of +strychnine and a small vial of stramonium from my pocket, and +enlarged on the efficiency of drugs. His face, which had gradually +become convulsed, suddenly became fixed with a frightful +expression. He started to his feet, and roared: "You d--d +Frenchman!" + +I instantly changed my tactics, and endeavored to embrace him. He +kicked me twice, violently. I begged permission to kiss madame's +hand. He replied by throwing me down stairs. + +I am in bed with my head bound up, and beef-steaks upon my eyes, +but still confident and buoyant. I have not lost faith in +Macchiavelli. Tra la la! as they sing in the opera. I kiss +everybody's hands. + + +CHAPTER V. + +DR. DIGGS'S STATEMENT. + + +My name is David Diggs. I am a surgeon, living at No. 9 Tottenham +Court. On the 15th of June, 1854, I was called to see an elderly +gentleman lodging on the Kent Road. Found him highly excited, with +strong febrile symptoms, pulse 120, increasing. Repeated +incoherently what I judged to be the popular form of a conundrum. +On closer examination found acute hydrocephalus and both lobes of +the brain rapidly filling with water. In consultation with an +eminent phrenologist, it was further discovered that all the organs +were more or less obliterated, except that of Comparison. Hence +the patient was enabled to only distinguish the most common points +of resemblance between objects, without drawing upon other +faculties, such as Ideality or Language, for assistance. Later in +the day found him sinking,--being evidently unable to carry the +most ordinary conundrum to a successful issue. Exhibited Tinct. +Val., Ext. Opii, and Camphor, and prescribed quiet and emollients. +On the 17th the patient was missing. + + +CHAPTER LAST. + +STATEMENT OF THE PUBLISHER. + + +On the 18th of June, Mr. Wilkie Collins left a roll of manuscript +with us for publication, without title or direction, since which +time he has not been heard from. In spite of the care of the +proof-readers, and valuable literary assistance, it is feared that +the continuity of the story has been destroyed by some accidental +misplacing of chapters during its progress. How and what chapters +are so misplaced, the publisher leaves to an indulgent public to +discover. + + + +N N. + +BEING A NOVEL IN THE FRENCH PARAGRAPHIC STYLE. + + +--Mademoiselle, I swear to you that I love you. + +--You who read these pages. You who turn your burning eyes upon +these words--words that I trace-- Ah, Heaven! the thought maddens +me. + +--I will be calm. I will imitate the reserve of the festive +Englishman, who wears a spotted handkerchief which he calls a +Belchio, who eats biftek, and caresses a bulldog. I will subdue +myself like him. + +--Ha! Poto-beer! All right--Goddam! + +--Or, I will conduct myself as the free-born American--the gay +Brother Jonathan! I will whittle me a stick. I will whistle to +myself "Yankee Doodle," and forget my passion in excessive +expectoration. + +--Hoho!--wake snakes and walk chalks. + + +The world is divided into two great divisions,--Paris and the +provinces. There is but one Paris. There are several provinces, +among which may be numbered England, America, Russia, and Italy. + +N N. was a Parisian. + +But N N. did not live in Paris. Drop a Parisian in the provinces, +and you drop a part of Paris with him. Drop him in Senegambia, and +in three days he will give you an omelette soufflee, or a pate de +foie gras, served by the neatest of Senegambian filles, whom he +will call Mademoiselle. In three weeks he will give you an opera. + +N N. was not dropped in Senegambia, but in San Francisco,--quite as +awkward. + +They find gold in San Francisco, but they don't understand gilding. + +N N. existed three years in this place. He became bald on the top +of his head, as all Parisians do. Look down from your box at the +Opera Comique, Mademoiselle, and count the bald crowns of the fast +young men in the pit. Ah--you tremble! They show where the arrows +of love have struck and glanced off. + +N N. was also near-sighted, as all Parisians finally become. This +is a gallant provision of Nature to spare them the mortification of +observing that their lady friends grow old. After a certain age +every woman is handsome to a Parisian. + +One day, N N. was walking down Washington street. Suddenly he +stopped. + +He was standing before the door of a mantuamaker. Beside the +counter, at the farther extremity of the shop, stood a young and +elegantly formed woman. Her face was turned from N N. He entered. +With a plausible excuse, and seeming indifference, he gracefully +opened conversation with the mantuamaker as only a Parisian can. +But he had to deal with a Parisian. His attempts to view the +features of the fair stranger by the counter were deftly combated +by the shop-woman. He was obliged to retire. + +N N. went home and lost his appetite. He was haunted by the +elegant basque and graceful shoulders of the fair unknown, during +the whole night. + +The next day he sauntered by the mantuamaker. Ah! Heavens! A +thrill ran through his frame, and his fingers tingled with a +delicious electricity. The fair inconnue was there! He raised his +hat gracefully. He was not certain, but he thought that a slight +motion of her faultless bonnet betrayed recognition. He would have +wildly darted into the shop, but just then the figure of the +mantuamaker appeared in the doorway. + +--Did Monsieur wish anything? + +Misfortune! Desperation. N N. purchased a bottle of Prussic acid, +a sack of charcoal, and a quire of pink note-paper, and returned +home. He wrote a letter of farewell to the closely fitting basque, +and opened the bottle of Prussic acid. + +Some one knocked at his door. It was a Chinaman, with his weekly +linen. + +These Chinese are docile, but not intelligent. They are ingenious, +but not creative. They are cunning in expedients, but deficient in +tact. In love they are simply barbarous. They purchase their +wives openly, and not constructively by attorney. By offering +small sums for their sweethearts, they degrade the value of the +sex. + +Nevertheless, N N. felt he was saved. He explained all to the +faithful Mongolian, and exhibited the letter he had written. He +implored him to deliver it. + +The Mongolian assented. The race are not cleanly or sweet-savored, +but N N. fell upon his neck. He embraced him with one hand, and +closed his nostrils with the other. Through him, he felt he +clasped the close-fitting basque. + +The next day was one of agony and suspense. Evening came, but no +Mercy. N N. lit the charcoal. But, to compose his nerves, he +closed his door and first walked mildly up and down Montgomery +Steeet. When he returned, he found the faithful Mongolian on the +steps. + +--All lity! + +These Chinese are not accurate in their pronunciation. They avoid +the r, like the English nobleman. + +N N. gasped for breath. He leaned heavily against the Chinaman. + +--Then you have seen her, Ching Long? + +--Yes. All lity. She cum. Top side of house. + +The docile barbarian pointed up the stairs, and chuckled. + +--She here--impossible! Ah, Heaven! do I dream? + +--Yes. All lity,--top side of house. Good by, John. + +This is the familiar parting epithet of the Mongolian. It is +equivalent to our au revoir. + +N N. gazed with a stupefied air on the departing servant. + +He placed his hand on his throbbing heart. She here,--alone +beneath this roof. O Heavens, what happiness! + +But how? Torn from her home. Ruthlessly dragged, perhaps, from +her evening devotions, by the hands of a relentless barbarian. +Could she forgive him? + +He dashed frantically up the stairs. He opened the door. She was +standing beside his couch with averted face. + +A strange giddiness overtook him. He sank upon his knees at the +threshold. + +--Pardon, pardon. My angel, can you forgive me? + +A terrible nausea now seemed added to the fearful giddiness. His +utterance grew thick and sluggish. + +--Speak, speak, enchantress. Forgiveness is all I ask. My Love, +my Life! + +She did not answer. He staggered to his feet. As he rose, his +eyes fell on the pan of burning charcoal. A terrible suspicion +flashed across his mind. This giddiness,--this nausea. The +ignorance of the barbarian. This silence. O merciful heavens! she +was dying! + +He crawled toward her. He touched her. She fell forward with a +lifeless sound upon the floor. He uttered a piercing shriek, and +threw himself beside her. + + * * * * * + +A file of gendarmes, accompanied by the Chef Burke, found him the +next morning lying lifeless upon the floor. They laughed +brutally,--these cruel minions of the law,--and disengaged his arm +from the waist of the wooden dummy which they had come to reclaim +for the mantuamaker. + +Emptying a few bucketfuls of water over his form, they finally +succeeded in robbing him, not only of his mistress, but of that +Death he had coveted without her. + +Ah! we live in a strange world, Messieurs. + + + +FANTINE. + +AFTER THE FRENCH OF VICTOR HUGO. + + +PROLOGUE. + + +As long as there shall exist three paradoxes, a moral Frenchman, a +religious Atheist, and a believing sceptic; so long, in fact, as +booksellers shall wait--say twenty-five years--for a new gospel; so +long as paper shall remain cheap and ink three sous a bottle, I +have no hesitation in saying that such books as these are not +utterly profitless. + +VICTOR HUGO. + + +I. + + +To be good is to be queer. What is a good man? Bishop Myriel. + +My friend, you will possibly object to this. You will say you know +what a good man is. Perhaps you will say your clergyman is a good +man, for instance. + +Bah! you are mistaken; you are an Englishman, and an Englishman is +a beast. + +Englishmen think they are moral when they are only serious. These +Englishmen also wear ill-shaped hats, and dress horribly! + +Bah! they are canaille. + +Still, Bishop Myriel was a good man,--quite as good as you. Better +than you, in fact. + +One day M. Myriel was in Paris. This angel used to walk about the +streets like any other man. He was not proud, though fine-looking. +Well, three gamins de Paris called him bad names. Says one:-- + +"Ah, mon Dieu! there goes a priest; look out for your eggs and +chickens!" + +What did this good man do? He called to them kindly. + +"My children," said he, "this is clearly not your fault. I +recognize in this insult and irreverence only the fault of your +immediate progenitors. Let us pray for your immediate +progenitors." + +They knelt down and prayed for their immediate progenitors. + +The effect was touching. + +The Bishop looked calmly around. + +"On reflection," said he, gravely, "I was mistaken; this is clearly +the fault of Society. Let us pray for Society." + +They knelt down and prayed for Society. + +The effect was sublimer yet. What do you think of that? You, I +mean. + +Everybody remembers the story of the Bishop and Mother Nez +Retrousse. Old Mother Nez Retrouse sold asparagus. She was poor; +there's a great deal of meaning in that word, my friend. Some +people say "poor but honest." I say, Bah! + +Bishop Myriel bought six bunches of asparagus. This good man had +one charming failing; he was fond of asparagus. He gave her a +franc and received three sous change. + +The sous were bad,--counterfeit. What did this good Bishop do? He +said: "I should not have taken change from a poor woman." + +Then afterwards, to his housekeeper: "Never take change from a poor +woman." + +Then he added to himself: "For the sous will probably be bad." + + +II. + + +When a man commits a crime, society claps him in prison. A prison +is one of the worst hotels imaginable. The people there are low +and vulgar. The butter is bad, the coffee is green. Ah, it is +horrible! + +In prison, as in a bad hotel, a man soon loses, not only his +morals, but what is much worse to a Frenchman, his sense of +refinement and delicacy. + +Jean Valjean came from prison with confused notions of society. He +forgot the modern peculiarities of hospitality. So he walked off +with the Bishop's candlesticks. + +Let us consider: candlesticks were stolen; that was evident. +Society put Jean Valjean in prison; that was evident, too. In +prison, Society took away his refinement; that is evident, +likewise. + +Who is Society? + +You and I are Society. + +My friend, you and I stole those candlesticks! + + +III. + + +The Bishop thought so, too. He meditated profoundly for six days. +On the morning of the seventh he went to the Prefecture of Police. + +He said: "Monsieur, have me arrested. I have stolen candlesticks." + +The official was governed by the law of Society, and refused. + +What did this Bishop do? + +He had a charming ball and chain made, affixed to his leg, and wore +it the rest of his life. + +This is a fact! + + +IV. + + +Love is a mystery. + +A little friend of mine down in the country, at Auvergne, said to +me one day: "Victor, Love is the world,--it contains everything." + +She was only sixteen, this sharp-witted little girl, and a +beautiful blonde. She thought everything of me. + +Fantine was one of those women who do wrong in the most virtuous +and touching manner. This is a peculiarity of French grisettes. + +You are an Englishman, and you don't understand. Learn, my friend, +learn. Come to Paris and improve your morals. + +Fantine was the soul of modesty. She always wore high-neck +dresses. High-neck dresses are a sign of modesty. + +Fantine loved Tholmoyes. Why? My God! What are you to do? It +was the fault of her parents, and she hadn't any. How shall you +teach her? You must teach the parent if you wish to educate the +child. How would you become virtuous? + +Teach your grandmother! + + +V. + + +When Tholmoyes ran away from Fantine,--which was done in a +charming, gentlemanly manner,--Fantine became convinced that a +rigid sense of propriety might look upon her conduct as immoral. +She was a creature of sensitiveness,--and her eyes were opened. + +She was virtuous still, and resolved to break off the liaison at +once. + +So she put up her wardrobe and baby in a bundle. Child as she was, +she loved them both. Then left Paris. + + +VI. + + +Fantine's native place had changed. + +M. Madeline--an angel, and inventor of jet work--had been teaching +the villagers how to make spurious jet. + +This is a progressive age. Those Americans,--children of the +West,--they make nutmegs out of wood. + +I, myself, have seen hams made of pine, in the wigwams of those +children of the forest. + +But civilization has acquired deception too. Society is made up of +deception. Even the best French society. + +Still there was one sincere episode. + +Eh? + +The French Revolution! + + +VII. + + +M. Madeline was, if anything, better than Myriel. + +M. Myriel was a saint. M. Madeline a good man. + +M. Myriel was dead. M. Madeline was living. + +That made all the difference. + +M. Madeline made virtue profitable. I have seen it written:-- + +"Be virtuous and you will be happy." + +Where did I see this written? In the modern Bible? No. In the +Koran? No. In Rousseau? No. Diderot? No. Where then? + +In a copy-book. + + +VIII. + + +M. Madeline was M. le Maire. + +This is how it came about. + +For a long time he refused the honor. One day an old woman, +standing on the steps, said:-- + +"Bah, a good mayor is a good thing. + +"You are a good thing. + +"Be a good mayor." + +This woman was a rhetorician. She understood inductive +ratiocination. + + +IX. + + +When this good M. Madeline, whom the reader will perceive must have +been a former convict, and a very bad man, gave himself up to +justice as the real Jean Valjean, about this same time, Fantine was +turned away from the manufactory, and met with a number of losses +from society. Society attacked her, and this is what she lost:-- + +First her lover. + +Then her child. + +Then her place. + +Then her hair. + +Then her teeth. + +Then her liberty. + +Then her life. + +What do you think of society after that? I tell you the present +social system is a humbug. + + +X. + + +This is necessarily the end of Fantine. There are other things +that will be stated in other volumes to follow. Don't be alarmed; +there are plenty of miserable people left. + +Au revoir--my friend. + + + +"LA FEMME." + +AFTER THE FRENCH OF M. MICHELET. + + +I. + +WOMEN AS AN INSTITUTION. + + +"If it were not for women, few of us would at present be in +existence." This is the remark of a cautious and discreet writer. +He was also sagacious and intelligent. + +Woman! Look upon her and admire her. Gaze upon her and love her. +If she wishes to embrace you, permit her. Remember she is weak and +you are strong. + +But don't treat her unkindly. Don't make love to another woman +before her face, even if she be your wife. Don't do it. Always be +polite, even should she fancy somebody better than you. + +If your mother, my dear Amadis, had not fancied your father better +than somebody, you might have been that somebody's son. Consider +this. Always be a philosopher, even about women. + +Few men understand women. Frenchmen, perhaps, better than any one +else. I am a Frenchman. + + +II. + +THE INFANT. + + +She is a child--a little thing--an infant. + +She has a mother and father. Let us suppose, for example, they are +married. Let us be moral if we cannot be happy and free--they are +married--perhaps--they love one another--who knows? + +But she knows nothing of this; she is an infant--a small thing--a +trifle! + +She is not lovely at first. It is cruel, perhaps, but she is red, +and positively ugly. She feels this keenly and cries. She weeps. +Ah, my God, how she weeps! Her cries and lamentations now are +really distressing. + +Tears stream from her in floods. She feels deeply and copiously +like M. Alphonse de Lamartine in his Confessions. + +If you are her mother, Madame, you will fancy worms; you will +examine her linen for pins, and what not. Ah, hypocrite! you, even +YOU, misunderstand her. + +Yet she has charming natural impulses. See how she tosses her +dimpled arms. She looks longingly at her mother. She has a +language of her own. She says, "goo goo," and "ga ga." + +She demands something--this infant! + +She is faint, poor thing. She famishes. She wishes to be +restored. Restore her, Mother! + +It is the first duty of a mother to restore her child! + + +III. + +THE DOLL. + + +She is hardly able to walk; she already totters under the weight of +a doll. + +It is a charming and elegant affair. It has pink cheeks and +purple-black hair. She prefers brunettes, for she has already, +with the quick knowledge of a French infant, perceived she is a +blonde, and that her doll cannot rival her. Mon Dieu, how +touching! Happy child! She spends hours in preparing its toilet. +She begins to show her taste in the exquisite details of its dress. +She loves it madly, devotedly. She will prefer it to bonbons. She +already anticipates the wealth of love she will hereafter pour out +on her lover, her mother, her father, and finally, perhaps, her +husband. + +This is the time the anxious parent will guide these first +outpourings. She will read her extracts from Michelet's L'Amour, +Rousseau's Heloise, and the Revue des deux Mondes. + + +IV. + +THE MUD PIE. + + +She was in tears to-day. + +She had stolen away from her bonne and was with some rustic +infants. They had noses in the air, and large, coarse hands and +feet. + +They had seated themselves around a pool in the road, and were +fashioning fantastic shapes in the clayey soil with their hands. +Her throat swelled and her eyes sparkled with delight as, for the +first time, her soft palms touched the plastic mud. She made a +graceful and lovely pie. She stuffed it with stones for almonds +and plums. She forgot everything. It was being baked in the solar +rays, when madame came and took her away. + +She weeps. It is night, and she is weeping still. + + +V. + +HER FIRST LOVE. + + +She no longer doubts her beauty. She is loved. She saw him +secretly. He is vivacious and sprightly. He is famous. He has +already had an affair with Finfin, the fille de chambre, and poor +Finfin is desolate. He is noble. She knows he is the son of +Madame la Baronne Couturiere. She adores him. + +She affects not to notice him. Poor little thing! Hippolyte is +distracted--annihilated--inconsolable and charming. + +She admires his boots, his cravat, his little gloves his exquisite +pantaloons--his coat, and cane. + +She offers to run away with him. He is transported, but +magnanimous. He is wearied, perhaps. She sees him the next day +offering flowers to the daughter of Madame la Comtesse +Blanchisseuse. + +She is again in tears. + +She reads Paul et Virginie. She is secretly transported. When she +reads how the exemplary young woman laid down her life rather than +appear en deshabille to her lover, she weeps again. Tasteful and +virtuous Bernardine de St. Pierre!--the daughters of France admire +you! + +All this time her doll is headless in the cabinet. The mud pie is +broken on the road. + + +VI. + +THE WIFE. + + +She is tired of loving and she marries. + +Her mother thinks it, on the whole, the best thing. As the day +approaches, she is found frequently in tears. Her mother will not +permit the affianced one to see her, and he makes several attempts +to commit suicide. + +But something happens. Perhaps it is winter, and the water is +cold. Perhaps there are not enough people present to witness his +heroism. + +In this way her future husband is spared to her. The ways of +Providence are indeed mysterious. At this time her mother will +talk with her. She will offer philosophy. She will tell her she +was married herself. + +But what is this new and ravishing light that breaks upon her? The +toilet and wedding clothes! She is in a new sphere. + +She makes out her list in her own charming writing. Here it is. +Let every mother heed it.* + + * * * * * + + * * * * * + +She is married. On the day after, she meets her old lover, +Hippolyte. He is again transported. + + +* The delicate reader will appreciate the omission of certain +articles for which English synonymes are forbidden. + + +VII. + +HER OLD AGE. + + +A Frenchwoman never grows old. + + + +MARY MCGILLUP. + +A SOUTHERN NOVEL. + +AFTER BELLE BOYD. + +WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY G. A. S--LA. + + +INTRODUCTION. + + +"Will you write me up?" + +The scene was near Temple Bar. The speaker was the famous rebel +Mary McGillup,--a young girl of fragile frame, and long, lustrous +black hair. I must confess that the question was a peculiar one, +and, under the circumstances, somewhat puzzling. It was true I had +been kindly treated by the Northerners, and, though prejudiced +against them, was to some extent under obligations to them. It was +true that I knew little or nothing of American politics, history, +or geography. But when did an English writer ever weigh such +trifles? Turning to the speaker, I inquired with some caution the +amount of pecuniary compensation offered for the work. + +"Sir!" she said, drawing her fragile form to its full height, "you +insult me,--you insult the South." + +"But look ye here, d'ye see--the tin--the blunt--the ready--the +stiff; you know. Don't ye see, we can't do without that, you +know!" + +It shall be contingent on the success of the story," she answered +haughtily. "In the mean time take this precious gem." And drawing +a diamond ring from her finger, she placed it with a roll of MSS. +in my hands and vanished. + +Although unable to procure more than L1 2s. 6 d. from an +intelligent pawnbroker to whom I stated the circumstances and with +whom I pledged the ring, my sympathies with the cause of a +downtrodden and chivalrous people were at once enlisted. I could +not help wondering that in rich England, the home of the oppressed +and the free, a young and lovely woman like the fair author of +those pages should be obliged to thus pawn her jewels--her marriage +gift--for the means to procure her bread! With the exception of +the English aristocracy,--who much resemble them,--I do not know of +a class of people that I so much admire as the Southern planters. +May I become better acquainted with both! + +Since writing the above, the news of Mr. Lincoln's assassination +has reached me. It is enough for me to say that I am dissatisfied +with the result. I do not attempt to excuse the assassin. Yet +there will be men who will charge this act upon the chivalrous +South. This leads me to repeat a remark once before made by me in +this connection which has become justly celebrated. It is this:-- + +"It is usual, in cases of murder, to look for the criminal among +those who expect to be benefited by the crime. In the death of +Lincoln, his immediate successor in office alone receives the +benefit of his dying." + +If her Majesty Queen Victoria were assassinated, which Heaven +forbid, the one most benefited by her decease would, of course, be +his Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, her immediate successor. +It would be unnecessary to state that suspicion would at once point +to the real culprit, which would of course be his Royal Highness. +This is logic. + +But I have done. After having thus stated my opinion in favor of +the South, I would merely remark that there is One who judgeth all +things,--who weigheth the cause between brother and brother,--and +awardeth the perfect retribution; and whose ultimate decision I, as +a British subject, have only anticipated. + +G. A. S. + + +CHAPTER I. + + +Every reader of Belle Boyd's narrative will remember an allusion to +a "lovely, fragile-looking girl of nineteen," who rivalled Belle +Boyd in devotion to the Southern cause, and who, like her, earned +the enviable distinction of being a "rebel spy." + +I am that "fragile" young creature. Although on friendly terms +with the late Miss Boyd, now Mrs. Hardinge, candor compels me to +state that nothing but our common politics prevents me from +exposing the ungenerous spirit she has displayed in this allusion. +To be dismissed in a single paragraph after years of-- But I +anticipate. To put up with this feeble and forced acknowledgment +of services rendered would be a confession of a craven spirit, +which, thank God, though "fragile" and only "nineteen," I do not +possess. I may not have the "blood of a Howard" in my veins, as +some people, whom I shall not disgrace myself by naming, claim to +have, but I have yet to learn that the race of McGillup ever yet +brooked slight or insult. I shall not say that attention in +certain quarters seems to have turned SOME PEOPLE'S heads; nor that +it would have been more delicate if certain folks had kept quiet on +the subject of their courtship, and the rejection of certain +offers, when it is known that their forward conduct was all that +procured them a husband! Thank heaven, the South has some +daughters who are above such base considerations! While nothing +shall tempt me to reveal the promises to share equally the fame of +certain enterprises, which were made by one who shall now be +nameless, I have deemed it only just to myself to put my own +adventures upon record. If they are not equal to those of another +individual, it is because, though "fragile," my education has +taught me to have some consideration for the truth. I am done. + + +CHAPTER II. + + +I was born in Missouri. My dislike for the Northern scum was +inherent. This was shown, at an early age, in the extreme distaste +I exhibited for Webster's spelling-book,--the work of a well-known +Eastern Abolitionist. I cannot be too grateful for the +consideration shown by my chivalrous father,--a gentleman of the +old school,--who resisted to the last an attempt to introduce +Mitchell's Astronomy and Geography into the public school of our +district. When I state that this same Mitchell became afterward a +hireling helot in the Yankee Army, every intelligent reader will +appreciate the prophetic discrimination of this true son of the +South. + +I was eight years old when I struck the first blow for Southern +freedom against the Northern Tyrant. It is hardly necessary to +state that in this instance the oppressor was a pale, overworked +New England "schoolmarm." The principle for which I was +contending, I felt, however, to be the same. Resenting an affront +put upon me, I one day heaved a rock* at the head of the Vandal +schoolmistress. I was seized and overpowered. My pen falters as I +reach the climax. English readers will not give credit to this +sickening story,--the civilized world will avert its head,--but I, +Mary McGillup, was publicly SPANKED! + + +* NOTE, BY G. A. S.--In the Southwest, any stone larger than a pea +is termed "a rock." + + +CHAPTER III. + + +But the chaotic vortex of civil war approached, and fell +destruction, often procrastinated, brooded in storm.* As the +English people may like to know what was really the origin of the +rebellion, I have no hesitation in giving them the true and only +cause. Slavery had nothing to do with it, although the violation +of the Declaration of Independence, in the disregard by the North +of the Fugitive Slave Law,** might have provoked a less fiery +people than the Southrons. At the inception of the struggle a +large amount of Southern indebtedness was held by the people of the +North. To force payment from the generous but insolvent debtor--to +obtain liquidation from the Southern planter--was really the +soulless and mercenary object of the craven Northerners. Let the +common people of England look to this. Let the improvident +literary hack; the starved impecunious Grub Street debtor; the +newspaper frequenter of sponging-houses, remember this in their +criticisms of the vile and slavish Yankee. + + +* I make no pretension to fine writing, but perhaps Mrs. Hardinge +can lay over that. O, of course! M. McG. + +** The Declaration of Independence grants to each subject "the +pursuit of life, liberty, and happiness." A fugitive slave may be +said to personify "life, liberty, and happiness." Hence his +pursuit is really legal. This is logic. G. A. S. + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +The roasting of an Abolitionist, by a greatly infuriated community, +was my first taste of the horrors of civil war. Heavens! Why will +the North persist in this fratricidal warfare? The expulsion of +several Union refugees, which soon followed, now fairly plunged my +beloved State in the seething vortex. + +I was sitting at the piano one afternoon, singing that stirring +refrain, so justly celebrated, but which a craven spirit, unworthy +of England, has excluded from some of her principal restaurants, +and was dwelling with some enthusiasm on the following line:-- + + + "Huzza! she spurns the Northern scum!" + + +when a fragment of that scum, clothed in that detestable blue +uniform which is the symbol of oppression, entered the apartment. +"I have the honor of addressing the celebrated rebel spy, Miss +McGillup," said the Vandal officer. + +In a moment I was perfectly calm. With the exception of slightly +expectorating twice in the face of the minion, I did not betray my +agitation. Haughtily, yet firmly, I replied:-- + +"I am." + +"You looked as if you might be," the brute replied, as he turned on +his heel to leave the apartment. + +In an instant I threw myself before him. "You shall not leave here +thus," I shrieked, grappling him with an energy which no one, +seeing my frail figure, would have believed. "I know the +reputation of your hireling crew. I read your dreadful purpose in +your eye. Tell me not that your designs are not sinister. You +came here to insult me,--to kiss me, perhaps. You sha'n't,--you +naughty man. Go away!" + +The blush of conscious degradation rose to the cheek of the Lincoln +hireling as he turned his face away from mine. + +In an instant I drew my pistol from my belt, which, in anticipation +of some such outrage, I always carried, and shot him. + + +CHAPTER V. + + + "Thy forte was less to act than speak, + Maryland! + Thy politics were changed each week, + Maryland! + With Northern Vandals thou wast meek, + With sympathizers thou wouldst shriek, + I know thee--O, 'twas like thy cheek! + Maryland! my Maryland!" + + +After committing the act described in the preceding chapter, which +every English reader will pardon, I went up stairs, put on a clean +pair of stockings, and, placing a rose in my lustrous black hair, +proceeded at once to the camp of Generals Price and Mosby to put +them in possession of information which would lead to the +destruction of a portion of the Federal Army. During a great part +of my flight I was exposed to a running fire from the Federal +pickets of such coarse expressions as, "Go it, Sally Reb," "Dust +it, my Confederate beauty," but I succeeded in reaching the +glorious Southern camp uninjured. + +In a week afterwards I was arrested, by a lettre de cachet of Mr. +Stanton, and placed in the Bastile. British readers of my story +will express surprise at these terms, but I assure them that not +only these articles but tumbrils, guillotines, and conciergeries +were in active use among the Federals. If substantiation be +required, I refer to the Charleston Mercury, the only reliable +organ, next to the New York Daily News, published in the country. +At the Bastile I made the acquaintance of the accomplished and +elegant author of Guy Livingstone,* to whom I presented a curiously +carved thigh-bone of a Union officer, and from whom I received the +following beautiful acknowledgment:-- + + +"Demoiselle:--Should I ever win hame to my ain countrie, I make +mine avow to enshrine in my reliquaire this elegant bijouterie and +offering of La Belle Rebelle. Nay, methinks this fraction of man's +anatomy were some compensation for the rib lost by the 'grand old +gardener,' Adam." + + +* The recent conduct of Mr. Livingstone renders him unworthy of my +notice. His disgusting praise of Belle Boyd, and complete ignoring +of my claims, show the artfulness of some females and puppyism of +some men. M. McG. + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +Released at last from durance vile and placed on board of an Erie +canal-boat, on my way to Canada, I for a moment breathed the sweets +of liberty. Perhaps the interval gave me opportunity to indulge in +certain reveries which I had hitherto sternly dismissed. Henry +Breckinridge Folair, a consistent copperhead, captain of the canal- +boat, again and again pressed that suit I had so often rejected. + +It was a lovely moonlight night. We sat on the deck of the gliding +craft. The moonbeam and the lash of the driver fell softly on the +flanks of the off horse, and only the surging of the tow-rope broke +the silence. Folair's arm clasped my waist. I suffered it to +remain. Placing in my lap a small but not ungrateful roll of +checkerberry lozenges, he took the occasion to repeat softly in my +ear the words of a motto he had just unwrapped--with its graceful +covering of the tissue paper--from a sugar almond. The heart of +the wicked little rebel, Mary McGillup, was won! + +The story of Mary McGillup is done. I might have added the journal +of my husband, Henry Breckinridge Folair, but as it refers chiefly +to his freights, and a schedule of his passengers, I have been +obliged, reluctantly, to suppress it. + +It is due to my friends to say that I have been requested not to +write this book. Expressions have reached my ears, the reverse of +complimentary. I have been told that its publication will probably +insure my banishment for life. Be it so. If the cause for which I +labored have been subserved, I am content. + +LONDON, May, 1865. + + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Condensed Novels, by Bret Harte + diff --git a/old/cndns10.zip b/old/cndns10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9e0eb70 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/cndns10.zip |