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diff --git a/2301-h/2301-h.htm b/2301-h/2301-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0dc90c4 --- /dev/null +++ b/2301-h/2301-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,20049 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + A Simpleton, by Charles Reade + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Simpleton, by Charles Reade + +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: A Simpleton + +Author: Charles Reade + +Release Date: May 16, 2006 [EBook #2301] +Last Updated: March 5, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A SIMPLETON *** + + + + +Produced by Donald Lainson; David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + A SIMPLETON + </h1> + <h2> + By Charles Reade + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PREF"> PREFACE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> <big><b>A SIMPLETON.</b></big> </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX. </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PREF" id="link2H_PREF"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + PREFACE. + </h2> + <p> + It has lately been objected to me, in studiously courteous terms of + course, that I borrow from other books, and am a plagiarist. To this I + reply that I borrow facts from every accessible source, and am not a + plagiarist. The plagiarist is one who borrows from a homogeneous work: for + such a man borrows not ideas only, but their treatment. He who borrows + only from heterogeneous works is not a plagiarist. All fiction, worth a + button, is founded on facts; and it does not matter one straw whether the + facts are taken from personal experience, hearsay, or printed books; only + those books must not be works of fiction. + </p> + <p> + Ask your common sense why a man writes better fiction at forty than he can + at twenty. It is simply because he has gathered more facts from each of + these three sources,—experience, hearsay, print. + </p> + <p> + To those who have science enough to appreciate the above distinction, I am + very willing to admit that in all my tales I use a vast deal of + heterogeneous material, which in a life of study I have gathered from men, + journals, blue-books, histories, biographies, law reports, etc. And if I + could, I would gladly specify all the various printed sources to which I + am indebted. But my memory is not equal to such a feat. I can only say + that I rarely write a novel without milking about two hundred + heterogeneous cows into my pail, and that “A Simpleton” is no exception to + my general method; that method is the true method, and the best, and if on + that method I do not write prime novels, it is the fault of the man, and + not of the method. + </p> + <p> + I give the following particulars as an illustration of my method: + </p> + <p> + In “A Simpleton,” the whole business of the girl spitting blood, the + surgeon ascribing it to the liver, the consultation, the final solution of + the mystery, is a matter of personal experience accurately recorded. But + the rest of the medical truths, both fact and argument, are all from + medical books far too numerous to specify. This includes the strange + fluctuations of memory in a man recovering his reason by degrees. The + behavior of the doctor's first two patients I had from a surgeon's + daughter in Pimlico. The servant-girl and her box; the purple-faced, + pig-faced Beak and his justice, are personal experience. The business of + house-renting, and the auction-room, is also personal experience. + </p> + <p> + In the nautical business I had the assistance of two practical seamen: my + brother, William Barrington Reade, and Commander Charles Edward Reade, + R.N. + </p> + <p> + In the South African business I gleaned from Mr. Day's recent handbooks; + the old handbooks; Galton's “Vacation Tourist;” “Philip Mavor; or, Life + among the Caffres;” “Fossor;” “Notes on the Cape of Good Hope,” 1821; + “Scenes and Occurrences in Albany and Caffre-land,” 1827; Bowler's “South + African Sketches;” “A Campaign in South Africa,” Lucas; “Five Years in + Caffre-land,” Mrs. Ward; etc., etc., etc. But my principal obligation on + this head is to Mr. Boyle, the author of some admirable letters to the + Daily telegraph, which he afterwards reprinted in a delightful volume. Mr. + Boyle has a painter's eye, and a writer's pen, and if the African scenes + in “A Simpleton” please my readers, I hope they will go to the + fountain-head, where they will find many more. + </p> + <p> + As to the plot and characters, they are invented. + </p> + <p> + The title, “A Simpleton,” is not quite new. There is a French play called + La Niaise. But La Niaise is in reality a woman of rare intelligence, who + is taken for a simpleton by a lot of conceited fools, and the play runs on + their blunders, and her unpretending wisdom. That is a very fine plot, + which I recommend to our female novelists. My aim in these pages has been + much humbler, and is, I hope, too clear to need explanation. + </p> + <p> + CHARLES READE. <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + A SIMPLETON. + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. + </h2> + <p> + A young lady sat pricking a framed canvas in the drawing-room of Kent + Villa, a mile from Gravesend; she was making, at a cost of time and tinted + wool, a chair cover, admirably unfit to be sat upon—except by some + severe artist, bent on obliterating discordant colors. To do her justice, + her mind was not in her work; for she rustled softly with restlessness as + she sat, and she rose three times in twenty minutes, and went to the + window. Thence she looked down, over a trim flowery lawn, and long, + sloping meadows, on to the silver Thames, alive with steamboats ploughing, + white sails bellying, and great ships carrying to and fro the treasures of + the globe. From this fair landscape and epitome of commerce she retired + each time with listless disdain; she was waiting for somebody. + </p> + <p> + Yet she was one of those whom few men care to keep waiting. Rosa Lusignan + was a dark but dazzling beauty, with coal-black hair, and glorious dark + eyes, that seemed to beam with soul all day long; her eyebrows, black, + straightish, and rather thick, would have been majestic and too severe, + had the other features followed suit; but her black brows were succeeded + by long silky lashes, a sweet oval face, two pouting lips studded with + ivory, and an exquisite chin, as feeble as any man could desire in the + partner of his bosom. Person—straight, elastic, and rather tall. + Mind—nineteen. Accomplishments—numerous; a poor French + scholar, a worse German, a worse English, an admirable dancer, an + inaccurate musician, a good rider, a bad draughtswoman, a bad hairdresser, + at the mercy of her maid; a hot theologian, knowing nothing, a sorry + accountant, no housekeeper, no seamstress, a fair embroideress, a capital + geographer, and no cook. + </p> + <p> + Collectively, viz., mind and body, the girl we kneel to. + </p> + <p> + This ornamental member of society now glanced at the clock once more, and + then glided to the window for the fourth time. She peeped at the side a + good while, with superfluous slyness or shyness, and presently she drew + back, blushing crimson; then she peeped again, still more furtively; then + retired softly to her frame, and, for the first time, set to work in + earnest. As she plied her harpoon, smiling now, the large and vivid blush, + that had suffused her face and throat, turned from carnation to rose, and + melted away slowly, but perceptibly, and ever so sweetly; and somebody + knocked at the street door. + </p> + <p> + The blow seemed to drive her deeper into her work. She leaned over it, + graceful as a willow, and so absorbed, she could not even see the door of + the room open and Dr. Staines come in. + </p> + <p> + All the better: her not perceiving that slight addition to her furniture + gives me a moment to describe him. + </p> + <p> + A young man, five feet eleven inches high, very square shouldered and deep + chested, but so symmetrical, and light in his movements, that his size + hardly struck one at first. He was smooth shaved, all but a short, thick, + auburn whisker; his hair was brown. His features no more then comely: the + brow full, the eyes wide apart and deep-seated, the lips rather thin, but + expressive, the chin solid and square. It was a face of power, and capable + of harshness; but relieved by an eye of unusual color, between hazel and + gray, and wonderfully tender. In complexion he could not compare with + Rosa; his cheek was clear, but pale; for few young men had studied night + and day so constantly. Though but twenty-eight years of age, he was + literally a learned physician; deep in hospital practice; deep in books; + especially deep in German science, too often neglected or skimmed by + English physicians. He had delivered a course of lectures at a learned + university with general applause. + </p> + <p> + As my reader has divined, Rosa was preparing the comedy of a cool + reception; but looking up, she saw his pale cheek tinted with a lover's + beautiful joy at the bare sight of her, and his soft eye so divine with + love, that she had not the heart to chill him. She gave him her hand + kindly, and smiled brightly on him instead of remonstrating. She lost + nothing by it, for the very first thing he did was to excuse himself + eagerly. “I am behind time: the fact is, just as I was mounting my horse, + a poor man came to the gate to consult me. He had a terrible disorder I + have sometimes succeeded in arresting—I attack the cause instead of + the symptoms, which is the old practice—and so that detained me. You + forgive me?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course. Poor man!—only you said you wanted to see papa, and he + always goes out at two.” + </p> + <p> + When she had been betrayed into saying this, she drew in suddenly, and + blushed with a pretty consciousness. + </p> + <p> + “Then don't let me lose another minute,” said the lover. “Have you + prepared him for—for—what I am going to have the audacity to + say?” + </p> + <p> + Rosa answered, with some hesitation, “I MUST have—a little. When I + refused Colonel Bright—you need not devour my hand quite—he is + forty.” + </p> + <p> + Her sentence ended, and away went the original topic, and grammatical + sequence along with it. Christopher Staines recaptured them both. “Yes, + dear, when you refused Colonel Bright”— + </p> + <p> + “Well, papa was astonished; for everybody says the colonel is a most + eligible match. Don't you hate that expression? I do. Eligible!” + </p> + <p> + Christopher made due haste, and recaptured her. “Yes, love, your papa + said”— + </p> + <p> + “I don't think I will tell you. He asked me was there anybody else; and of + course I said 'No.'” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that is nothing; I had not time to make up my mind to tell the truth. + I was taken by surprise; and you know one's first impulse is to fib—about + THAT.” + </p> + <p> + “But did you really deceive him?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I blushed; and he caught me; so he said, 'Come, now, there was.'” + </p> + <p> + “And you said, 'Yes, there is,' like a brave girl as you are.” + </p> + <p> + “What, plump like that? No, I was frightened out of my wits, like a brave + girl as I am not, and said I should never marry any one he could + disapprove; and then—oh, then I believe I began to cry. Christopher, + I'll tell you something; I find people leave off teasing you when you cry—gentlemen, + I mean. Ladies go on all the more. So then dear papa kissed me, and told + me I must not be imprudent, and throw myself away, that was all; and I + promised him I never would. I said he would be sure to approve my choice; + and he said he hoped so. And so he will.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Staines looked thoughtful, and said he hoped so too. “But now it comes + to the point of asking him for such a treasure, I feel my deficiencies.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, what deficiencies? You are young, and handsome, and good, and ever + so much cleverer than other people. You have only to ask for me, and + insist on having me. Come, dear, go and get it over.” She added, mighty + coolly, “There is nothing so DREADFUL as suspense.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll go this minute,” said he, and took a step towards the door; but he + turned, and in a moment was at her knees. He took both her hands in his, + and pressed them to his beating bosom, while his beautiful eyes poured + love into hers point-blank. “May I tell him you love me? Oh, I know you + cannot love me as I love you; but I may say you love me a little, may I + not?—that will go farther with him than anything else. May I, Rosa, + may I?—a little?” + </p> + <p> + His passion mastered her. She dropped her head sweetly on his shoulder, + and murmured, “You know you may, my own. Who would not love you?” + </p> + <p> + He parted lingeringly from her, then marched away, bold with love and + hope, to demand her hand in marriage. + </p> + <p> + Rosa leaned back in her chair, and quivered a little with new emotions. + Christopher was right; she was not capable of loving like him; but still + the actual contact of so strong a passion made her woman's nature vibrate. + A dewy tear hung on the fringes of her long lashes, and she leaned back in + her chair and fluttered awhile. + </p> + <p> + That emotion, almost new to her, soon yielded, in her girlish mind, to a + complacent languor; and that, in its turn, to a soft reverie. So she was + going to be married! To be mistress of a house; settle in London (THAT she + had quite determined long ago); be able to go out into the streets all + alone, to shop, or visit; have a gentleman all her own, whom she could put + her finger on any moment and make him take her about, even to the opera + and the theatre; to give dinner-parties her own self, and even a little + ball once in a way; to buy whatever dresses she thought proper, instead of + being crippled by an allowance; have the legal right of speaking first in + society, even to gentlemen rich in ideas but bad starters, instead of + sitting mumchance and mock-modest; to be Mistress, instead of Miss—contemptible + title; to be a woman, instead of a girl; and all this rational liberty, + domestic power, and social dignity were to be obtained by merely wedding a + dear fellow, who loved her, and was so nice; and the bright career to be + ushered in with several delights, each of them dear to a girl's very soul: + presents from all her friends; as many beautiful new dresses as if she was + changing her body or her hemisphere, instead of her name; eclat; going to + church, which is a good English girl's theatre of display and temple of + vanity, and there tasting delightful publicity and whispered admiration, + in a heavenly long veil, which she could not wear even once if she + remained single. + </p> + <p> + This bright variegated picture of holy wedlock, and its essential + features, as revealed to young ladies by feminine tradition, though not + enumerated in the Book of Common Prayer writ by grim males, so entranced + her, that time flew by unheeded, and Christopher Staines came back from + her father. His step was heavy; he looked pale, and deeply distressed; + then stood like a statue, and did not come close to her, but cast a + piteous look, and gasped out one word, that seemed almost to choke him,—“REFUSED!” + </p> + <p> + Miss Lusignan rose from her chair, and looked almost wildly at him with + her great eyes. “Refused?” said she, faintly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said he, sadly. “Your father is a man of business; and he took a + mere business view of our love: he asked me directly what provision I + could make for his daughter and her children. Well, I told him I had three + thousand pounds in the Funds, and a good profession; and then I said I had + youth, health, and love, boundless love, the love that can do, or suffer, + the love that can conquer the world.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear Christopher! And what COULD he say to all that?” + </p> + <p> + “He ignored it entirely. There! I'll give you his very words. He said, 'In + that case, Dr. Staines, the simple question is, what does your profession + bring you in per annum?'” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! There! I always hated arithmetic, and now I abominate it.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I was obliged to confess I had scarcely received a hundred pounds in + fees this year; but I told him the reason; this is such a small district, + and all the ground occupied. London, I said, was my sphere.” + </p> + <p> + “And so it is,” said Rosa, eagerly; for this jumped with her own little + designs. “Genius is wasted in the country. Besides, whenever anybody worth + curing is ill down here, they always send to London for a doctor.” + </p> + <p> + “I told him so, dearest,” said the lover. “But he answered me directly, + then I must set up in London, and as soon as my books showed an income to + keep a wife, and servants, and children, and insure my life for five + thousand pounds”— + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that is so like papa. He is director of an insurance company, so all + the world must insure their lives.” + </p> + <p> + “No, dear, he was quite right there: professional incomes are most + precarious. Death spares neither young nor old, neither warm hearts nor + cold. I should be no true physician if I could not see my own mortality.” + He hung his head and pondered a moment, then went on, sadly, “It all comes + to this—until I have a professional income of eight hundred a year + at least, he will not hear of our marrying; and the cruel thing is, he + will not even consent to an engagement. But,” said the rejected, with a + look of sad anxiety, “you will wait for me without that, dear Rosa?” + </p> + <p> + She could give him that comfort, and she gave it him with loving + earnestness. “Of course I will; and it shall not be very long. Whilst you + are making your fortune, to please papa, I will keep fretting, and + pouting, and crying, till he sends for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Bless you, dearest! Stop!—not to make yourself ill! not for all the + world.” The lover and the physician spoke in turn. + </p> + <p> + He came, all gratitude, to her side, and they sat, hand in hand, + comforting each other: indeed, parting was such sweet sorrow that they + sat, handed, and very close to one another, till Mr. Lusignan, who thought + five minutes quite enough for rational beings to take leave in, walked + into the room and surprised them. At sight of his gray head and iron-gray + eyebrows, Christopher Staines started up and looked confused; he thought + some apology necessary, so he faltered out, “Forgive me, sir; it is a + bitter parting to me, you may be sure.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa's bosom heaved at these simple words. She flew to her father, and + cried, “Oh, papa! papa! you were never cruel before;” and hid her burning + face on his shoulder; and then burst out crying, partly for Christopher, + partly because she was now ashamed of herself for having taken a young + man's part so openly. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Lusignan looked sadly discomposed at this outburst: she had taken him + by his weak point; he told her so. “Now, Rosa,” said he, rather peevishly, + “you know I hate—noise.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa had actually forgotten that trait for a single moment; but, being + reminded of it, she reduced her sobs in the prettiest way, not to offend a + tender parent who could not bear noise. Under this homely term, you must + know, he included all scenes, disturbances, rumpuses, passions; and + expected all men, women, and things in Kent Villa to go smoothly—or + go elsewhere. + </p> + <p> + “Come, young people,” said he, “don't make a disturbance. Where's the + grievance? Have I said he shall never marry you? Have I forbidden him to + correspond? or even to call, say twice a year. All I say is, no marriage, + nor contract of marriage, until there is an income.” Then he turned to + Christopher. “Now if you can't make an income without her, how could you + make one with her, weighed down by the load of expenses a wife entails? I + know her better than you do; she is a good girl, but rather luxurious and + self-indulgent. She is not cut out for a poor man's wife. And pray don't + go and fancy that nobody loves my child but you. Mine is not so hot as + yours, of course; but believe me, sir, it is less selfish. You would + expose her to poverty and misery; but I say no; it is my duty to protect + her from all chance of them; and, in doing it, I am as much your friend as + hers, if you could but see it. Come, Dr. Staines, be a man, and see the + world as it is. I have told you how to earn my daughter's hand and my + esteem: you must gain both, or neither.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Staines was never quite deaf to reason: he now put his hand to his + brow and said, with a sort of wonder and pitiful dismay, “My love for Rosa + selfish! Sir, your words are bitter and hard.” Then, after a struggle, and + with rare and touching candor, “Ay, but so are bark and steel; yet they + are good medicines.” Then with a great glow in his heart and tears in his + eyes, “My darling shall not be a poor man's wife, she who would adorn a + coronet, ay, or a crown. Good-by, Rosa, for the present.” He darted to + her, and kissed her hand with all his soul. “Oh, the sacrifice of leaving + you,” he faltered; “the very world is dark to me without you. Ah, well, I + must earn the right to come again.” He summoned all his manhood, and + marched to the door. There he seemed to turn calmer all of a sudden, and + said firmly, yet humbly, “I'll try and show you, sir, what love can do.” + </p> + <p> + “And I'll show you what love can suffer,” said Rosa, folding her beautiful + arms superbly. + </p> + <p> + It was not in her to have shot such a bolt, except in imitation; yet how + promptly the mimic thunder came, and how grand the beauty looked, with her + dark brows, and flashing eyes, and folded arms! much grander and more + inspired than poor Staines, who had only furnished the idea. + </p> + <p> + But between these two figures swelling with emotion, the representative of + common sense, Lusignan pere, stood cool and impassive; he shrugged his + shoulders, and looked on both lovers as a couple of ranting novices he was + saving from each other and almshouses. + </p> + <p> + For all that, when the lover had torn himself away, papa's composure was + suddenly disturbed by a misgiving. He stepped hastily to the stairhead, + and gave it vent. “Dr. Staines,” said he, in a loud whisper (Staines was + half way down the stairs: he stopped). “I trust to you as a gentleman, not + to mention this; it will never transpire here. Whatever we do—no + noise!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. + </h2> + <p> + Rosa Lusignan set herself pining as she had promised; and she did it + discreetly for so young a person. She was never peevish, but always sad + and listless. By this means she did not anger her parent, but only made + him feel she was unhappy, and the house she had hitherto brightened + exceeding dismal. + </p> + <p> + By degrees this noiseless melancholy undermined the old gentleman, and he + well-nigh tottered. + </p> + <p> + But one day, calling suddenly on a neighbor with six daughters, he heard + peals of laughter, and found Rosa taking her full share of the senseless + mirth. She pulled up short at sight of him, and colored high; but it was + too late, for he launched a knowing look at her on the spot, and muttered + something about seven foolish virgins. + </p> + <p> + He took the first opportunity, when they were alone, and told her he was + glad to find she was only dismal at home. + </p> + <p> + But Rosa had prepared for him. “One can be loud without being gay at + heart,” said she, with a lofty, languid air. “I have not forgotten your + last words to HIM. We were to hide our broken hearts from the world. I try + to obey you, dear papa; but, if I had my way, I would never go into the + world at all. I have but one desire now—to end my days in a + convent.” + </p> + <p> + “Please begin them first. A convent! Why, you'd turn it out of window. You + are no more fit to be a nun than—a pauper.” + </p> + <p> + Not having foreseen this facer, Rosa had nothing ready; so she received it + with a sad, submissive, helpless sigh, as who would say, “Hit me, papa: I + have no friend now.” So then he was sorry he had been so clever; and, + indeed, there is one provoking thing about “a woman's weakness”—it + is invincible. + </p> + <p> + The next minute, what should come but a long letter from Dr. Staines, + detailing his endeavors to purchase a practice in London, and his + ill-success. The letter spoke the language of love and hope; but the facts + were discouraging; and, indeed, a touching sadness pierced through the + veil of the brave words. + </p> + <p> + Rosa read it again and again, and cried over it before her father, to + encourage him in his heartless behavior. + </p> + <p> + About ten days after this, something occurred that altered her mood. + </p> + <p> + She became grave and thoughtful, but no longer lugubrious. She seemed + desirous to atone to her father for having disturbed his cheerfulness. She + smiled affectionately on him, and often sat on a stool at his knee, and + glided her hand into his. + </p> + <p> + He was not a little pleased, and said to himself, “She is coming round to + common-sense.” + </p> + <p> + Now, on the contrary, she was farther from it than ever. + </p> + <p> + At last he got the clew. One afternoon he met Mr. Wyman coming out of the + villa. Mr. Wyman was the consulting surgeon of that part. + </p> + <p> + “What! anybody ill?” said Mr. Lusignan. “One of the servants?” + </p> + <p> + “No; it is Miss Lusignan.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, what is the matter with her?” + </p> + <p> + Wyman hesitated. “Oh, nothing very alarming. Would you mind asking her?” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “The fact is, she requested me not to tell you: made me promise.” + </p> + <p> + “And I insist upon your telling me.” + </p> + <p> + “And I think you are quite right, sir, as her father. Well, she is + troubled with a little spitting of blood.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Lusignan turned pale. “My child! spitting of blood! God forbid!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, do not alarm yourself. It is nothing serious.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't tell me!” said the father. “It is always serious. And she kept this + from me!” + </p> + <p> + Masking his agitation for the time, he inquired how often it had occurred, + this grave symptom. + </p> + <p> + “Three or four times this last month. But I may as well tell you at once: + I have examined her carefully, and I do not think it is from the lungs.” + </p> + <p> + “From the throat, then?” + </p> + <p> + “No; from the liver. Everything points to that organ as the seat of + derangement: not that there is any lesion; only a tendency to congestion. + I am treating her accordingly, and have no doubt of the result.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is the ablest physician hereabouts?” asked Lusignan, abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “Dr. Snell, I think.” + </p> + <p> + “Give me his address.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll write to him, if you like, and appoint a consultation.” He added, + with vast but rather sudden alacrity, “It will be a great satisfaction to + my own mind.” + </p> + <p> + “Then send to him, if you please, and let him be here to-morrow morning; + if not, I shall take her to London for advice at once.” + </p> + <p> + On this understanding they parted, and Lusignan went at once to his + daughter. “O my child!” said he, deeply distressed, “how could you hide + this from me?” + </p> + <p> + “Hide what, papa?” said the girl, looking the picture of unconsciousness. + </p> + <p> + “That you have been spitting blood.” + </p> + <p> + “Who told you that?” said she, sharply. + </p> + <p> + “Wyman. He is attending you.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa colored with anger. “Chatterbox! He promised me faithfully not to.” + </p> + <p> + “But why, in Heaven's name? What! would you trust this terrible thing to a + stranger, and hide it from your poor father?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied Rosa, quietly. + </p> + <p> + The old man would not scold her now; he only said, sadly, “I see how it + is: because I will not let you marry poverty, you think I do not love + you.” And he sighed. + </p> + <p> + “O papa! the idea!” said Rosa. “Of course, I know you love me. It was not + that, you dear, darling, foolish papa. There! if you must know, it was + because I did not want you to be distressed. I thought I might get better + with a little physic; and, if not, why, then I thought, 'Papa is an old + man; la! I dare say I shall last his time;' and so, why should I poison + your latter days with worrying about ME?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Lusignan stared at her, and his lip quivered; but he thought the trait + hardly consistent with her superficial character. He could not help + saying, half sadly, half bitterly, “Well, but of course you have told Dr. + Staines.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa opened her beautiful eyes, like two suns. “Of course I have done + nothing of the sort. He has enough to trouble him, without that. Poor + fellow! there he is, worrying and striving to make his fortune, and gain + your esteem—'they go together,' you know; you told him so.” (Young + cats will scratch when least expected.) “And for me to go and tell him I + am in danger! Why, he would go wild. He would think of nothing but me and + my health. He would never make his fortune: and so then, even when I am + gone, he will never get a wife, because he has only got genius and + goodness and three thousand pounds. No, papa, I have not told poor + Christopher. I may tease those I love. I have been teasing YOU this ever + so long; but frighten them, and make them miserable? No!” + </p> + <p> + And here, thinking of the anguish that was perhaps in store for those she + loved, she wanted to cry; it almost choked her not to. But she fought it + bravely down: she reserved her tears for lighter occasions and less noble + sentiments. + </p> + <p> + Her father held out his arms to her. She ran her footstool to him, and sat + nestling to his heart. + </p> + <p> + “Please forgive me my misconduct. I have not been a dutiful daughter ever + since you—but now I will. Kiss me, my own papa! There! Now we are as + we always were.” + </p> + <p> + Then she purred to him on every possible topic but the one that now filled + his parental heart, and bade him good-night at last with a cheerful smile. + </p> + <p> + Wyman was exact, and ten minutes afterwards Dr. Snell drove up in a + carriage and pair. He was intercepted in the hall by Wyman, and, after a + few minutes' conversation, presented to Mr. Lusignan. + </p> + <p> + The father gave vent to his paternal anxiety in a few simple but touching + words, and was proceeding to state the symptoms as he had gathered them + from his daughter; but Dr. Snell interrupted him politely, and said he had + heard the principal symptoms from Mr. Wyman. Then, turning to the latter, + he said, “We had better proceed to examine the patient.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” said Mr. Lusignan. “She is in the drawing-room;” and he led + the way, and was about to enter the room, when Wyman informed him it was + against etiquette for him to be present at the examination. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, very well!” said he. “Yes, I see the propriety of that. But oblige me + by asking her if she has anything on her mind.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Snell bowed a lofty assent; for, to receive a hint from a layman was + to confer a favor on him. + </p> + <p> + The men of science were closeted full half an hour with the patient. She + was too beautiful to be slurred over, even by a busy doctor: he felt her + pulse, looked at her tongue, and listened attentively to her lungs, to her + heart, and to the organ suspected by Wyman. He left her at last with a + kindly assurance that the case was perfectly curable. + </p> + <p> + At the door they were met by the anxious father, who came with throbbing + heart, and asked the doctors' verdict. + </p> + <p> + He was coolly informed that could not be given until the consultation had + taken place; the result of that consultation would be conveyed to him. + </p> + <p> + “And pray, why can't I be present at the consultation? The grounds on + which two able men agree or disagree must be well worth listening to.” + </p> + <p> + “No doubt,” said Dr. Snell; “but,” with a superior smile, “my dear sir, it + is not the etiquette.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, very well,” said Lusignan. But he muttered, “So, then, a father is + nobody!” + </p> + <p> + And this unreasonable person retired to his study, miserable, and gave up + the dining-room to the consultation. + </p> + <p> + They soon rejoined him. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Snell's opinion was communicated by Wyman. “I am happy to tell you + that Dr. Snell agrees with me, entirely: the lungs are not affected, and + the liver is congested, but not diseased.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that so, Dr. Snell?” asked Lusignan, anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “It is so, sir.” He added, “The treatment has been submitted to me, and I + quite approve it.” + </p> + <p> + He then asked for a pen and paper, and wrote a prescription. He assured + Mr. Lusignan that the case had no extraordinary feature, whatever; he was + not to alarm himself. Dr. Snell then drove away, leaving the parent rather + puzzled, but, on the whole, much comforted. + </p> + <p> + And here I must reveal an extraordinary circumstance. + </p> + <p> + Wyman's treatment was by drugs. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Snell's was by drugs. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Snell, as you have seen, entirely approved Wyman's treatment. + </p> + <p> + His own had nothing in common with it. The Arctic and Antarctic poles are + not farther apart than was his prescription from the prescription he + thoroughly approved. + </p> + <p> + Amiable science! In which complete diversity of practice did not interfere + with perfect uniformity of opinion. + </p> + <p> + All this was kept from Dr. Staines, and he was entirely occupied in trying + to get a position that might lead to fortune, and satisfy Mr. Lusignan. He + called on every friend he had, to inquire where there was an opening. He + walked miles and miles in the best quarters of London, looking for an + opening; he let it be known in many quarters that he would give a good + premium to any physician who was about to retire, and would introduce him + to his patients. + </p> + <p> + No: he could hear of nothing. + </p> + <p> + Then, after a great struggle with himself, he called upon his uncle, + Philip Staines, a retired M.D., to see if he would do anything for him. He + left this to the last, for a very good reason: Dr. Philip was an irritable + old bachelor, who had assisted most of his married relatives; but, finding + no bottom to the well, had turned rusty and crusty, and now was apt to + administer kicks instead of checks to all who were near and dear to him. + However, Christopher was the old gentleman's favorite, and was now + desperate; so he mustered courage, and went. He was graciously received—warmly, + indeed. This gave him great hopes, and he told his tale. + </p> + <p> + The old bachelor sided with Mr. Lusignan. “What!” said he, “do you want to + marry, and propagate pauperism? I thought you had more sense. Confound it + all I had just one nephew whose knock at my street-door did not make me + tremble; he was a bachelor and a thinker, and came for a friendly chat; + the rest are married men, highwaymen, who come to say, 'Stand and + deliver;' and now even you want to join the giddy throng. Well, don't ask + me to have any hand in it. You are a man of promise; and you might as well + hang a millstone round your neck as a wife. Marriage is a greater mistake + than ever now; the women dress more and manage worse. I met your cousin + Jack the other day, and his wife with seventy pounds on her back; and next + door to paupers. No; whilst you are a bachelor, like me, you are my + favorite, and down in my will for a lump. Once marry, and you join the + noble army of foot-pads, leeches, vultures, paupers, gone coons, and + babblers about brats—and I disown you.” + </p> + <p> + There was no hope from old Crusty. Christopher left him, snubbed and + heart-sick. At last he met a sensible man, who made him see there was no + short cut in that profession. He must be content to play the up-hill game; + must settle in some good neighborhood; marry, if possible, since husbands + and fathers of families prefer married physicians; and so be poor at + thirty, comfortable at forty, and rich at fifty—perhaps. + </p> + <p> + Then Christopher came down to his lodgings at Gravesend, and was very + unhappy; and after some days of misery, he wrote a letter to Rosa in a + moment of impatience, despondency, and passion. + </p> + <p> + Rosa Lusignan got worse and worse. The slight but frequent hemorrhage was + a drain upon her system, and weakened her visibly. She began to lose her + rich complexion, and sometimes looked almost sallow; and a slight circle + showed itself under her eyes. These symptoms were unfavorable; + nevertheless, Dr. Snell and Mr. Wyman accepted them cheerfully, as fresh + indications that nothing was affected but the liver; they multiplied and + varied their prescriptions; the malady ignored those prescriptions, and + went steadily on. Mr. Lusignan was terrified but helpless. Rosa resigned + and reticent. + </p> + <p> + But it was not in human nature that a girl of this age could always and at + all hours be mistress of herself. One evening in particular she stood + before the glass in the drawing-room, and looked at herself a long time + with horror. “Is that Rosa Lusignan?” said she, aloud; “it is her ghost.” + </p> + <p> + A deep groan startled her. She turned; it was her father. She thought he + was fast asleep; and so indeed he had been; but he was just awaking, and + heard his daughter utter her real mind. It was a thunder-clap. “Oh, my + child! what shall I do?” he cried. + </p> + <p> + Then Rosa was taken by surprise in her turn. She spoke out. “Send for a + great physician, papa. Don't let us deceive ourselves; it is our only + chance.” + </p> + <p> + “I will ask Mr. Wyman to get a physician down from London.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no; that is no use; they will put their heads together, and he will + say whatever Mr. Wyman tells him. La! papa, a clever man like you, not to + see what a cheat that consultation was. Why, from what you told me, one + can see it was managed so that Dr. Snell could not possibly have an + opinion of his own. No; no more echoes of Mr. Chatterbox. If you really + want to cure me, send for Christopher Staines.” + </p> + <p> + “Dr. Staines! he is very young.” + </p> + <p> + “But he is very clever, and he is not an echo. He won't care how many + doctors he contradicts when I am in danger. Papa, it is your child's one + chance.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll try it,” said the old man, eagerly. “How confident you look! your + color has come back. It is an inspiration. Where is he?” + </p> + <p> + “I think by this time he must be at his lodgings in Gravesend. Send to him + to-morrow morning.” + </p> + <p> + “Not I! I'll go to him to-night. It is only a mile, and a fine clear + night.” + </p> + <p> + “My own, good, kind papa! Ah! well, come what may, I have lived long + enough to be loved. Yes, dear papa, save me. I am very young to die; and + he loves me so dearly.” + </p> + <p> + The old man bustled away to put on something warmer for his night walk, + and Rosa leaned back, and the tears welled out of her eyes, now he was + gone. + </p> + <p> + Before she had recovered her composure, a letter was brought her, and this + was the letter from Christopher Staines, alluded to already. + </p> + <p> + She took it from the servant with averted head, not wishing it to be seen + she had been crying, and she started at the handwriting; it seemed such a + coincidence that it should come just as she was sending for him. + </p> + <p> + MY OWN BELOVED ROSA,—I now write to tell you, with a heavy heart, + that all is vain. I cannot make, nor purchase, a connection, except as + others do, by time and patience. Being a bachelor is quite against a young + physician. If I had a wife, and such a wife as you, I should be sure to + get on; you would increase my connection very soon. What, then, lies + before us? I see but two things—to wait till we are old, and our + pockets are filled, but our hearts chilled or soured; or else to marry at + once, and climb the hill together. If you love me as I love you, you will + be saving till the battle is over; and I feel I could find energy and + fortitude for both. Your father, who thinks so much of wealth, can surely + settle something on YOU; and I am not too poor to furnish a house and + start fair. I am not quite obscure—my lectures have given me a name—and + to you, my own love, I hope I may say that I know more than many of my + elders, thanks to good schools, good method, a genuine love of my noble + profession, and a tendency to study from my childhood. Will you not risk + something on my ability? If not, God help me, for I shall lose you; and + what is life, or fame, or wealth, or any mortal thing to me, without you? + I cannot accept your father's decision; YOU must decide my fate. + </p> + <p> + You see I have kept away from you until I can do so no more. All this time + the world to me has seemed to want the sun, and my heart pines and sickens + for one sight of you. + </p> + <p> + Darling Rosa, pray let me look at your face once more. + </p> + <p> + When this reaches you I shall be at your gate. Let me see you, though but + for a moment, and let me hear my fate from no lips but yours.—My own + love, your heart-broken lover, + </p> + <p> + CHRISTOPHER STAINES. + </p> + <p> + This letter stunned her at first. Her mind of late had been turned away + from love to such stern realities. Now she began to be sorry she had not + told him. “Poor thing!” she said to herself, “he little knows that now all + is changed. Papa, I sometimes think, would deny me nothing now; it is I + who would not marry him—to be buried by him in a month or two. Poor + Christopher!” + </p> + <p> + The next moment she started up in dismay. Why, her father would miss him. + No; perhaps catch him waiting for her. What would he think? What would + Christopher think?—that she had shown her papa his letter. + </p> + <p> + She rang the bell hard. The footman came. + </p> + <p> + “Send Harriet to me this instant. Oh, and ask papa to come to me.” + </p> + <p> + Then she sat down and dashed off a line to Christopher. This was for + Harriet to take out to him. Anything better than for Christopher to be + caught doing what was wrong. + </p> + <p> + The footman came back first. “If you please, miss, master has gone out.” + </p> + <p> + “Run after him—the road to Gravesend.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, miss.” + </p> + <p> + “No. It is no use. Never mind.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, miss.” + </p> + <p> + Then Harriet came in. “Did you want me, miss?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. No—never mind now.” + </p> + <p> + She was afraid to do anything for fear of making matters worse. She went + to the window, and stood looking anxiously out, with her hands working. + Presently she uttered a little scream and shrank away to the sofa. She + sank down on it, half sitting, half lying, hid her face in her hands, and + waited. + </p> + <p> + Staines, with a lover's impatience, had been more than an hour at the + gate, or walking up and down close by it, his heart now burning with hope, + now freezing with fear, that she would decline a meeting on these terms. + </p> + <p> + At last the postman came, and then he saw he was too soon; but now in a + few minutes Rosa would have his letter, and then he should soon know + whether she would come or not. He looked up at the drawing-room windows. + They were full of light. She was there in all probability. Yet she did not + come to them. But why should she, if she was coming out? + </p> + <p> + He walked up and down the road. She did not come. His heart began to + sicken with doubt. His head drooped; and perhaps it was owing to this that + he almost ran against a gentleman who was coming the other way. The moon + shone bright on both faces. + </p> + <p> + “Dr. Staines!” said Mr. Lusignan surprised. Christopher uttered an + ejaculation more eloquent than words. + </p> + <p> + They stared at each other. + </p> + <p> + “You were coming to call on us?” + </p> + <p> + “N—no,” stammered Christopher. + </p> + <p> + Lusignan thought that odd; however, he said politely, “No matter, it is + fortunate. Would you mind coming in?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” faltered Christopher, and stared at him ruefully, puzzled more and + more, but beginning to think, after all, it might be a casual meeting. + </p> + <p> + They entered the gate, and in one moment he saw Rosa at the window, and + she saw him. + </p> + <p> + Then he altered his opinion again. Rosa had sent her father out to him. + But how was this? The old man did not seem angry. Christopher's heart gave + a leap inside him, and he began to glow with the wildest hopes. For, what + could this mean but relenting? + </p> + <p> + Mr. Lusignan took him first into the study, and lighted two candles + himself. He did not want the servants prying. + </p> + <p> + The lights showed Christopher a change in Mr. Lusignan. He looked ten + years older. + </p> + <p> + “You are not well, sir,” said Christopher gently. + </p> + <p> + “My health is well enough, but I am a broken-hearted man. Dr. Staines, + forget all that passed here at your last visit. All that is over. Thank + you for loving my poor girl as you do; give me your hand; God bless you. + Sir, I am sorry to say it is as a physician I invite you now. She is ill, + sir, very, very ill.” + </p> + <p> + “Ill! and not tell me!” + </p> + <p> + “She kept it from you, my poor friend, not to distress you; and she tried + to keep it from me, but how could she? For two months she has had some + terrible complaint—it is destroying her. She is the ghost of + herself. Oh, my poor child! my child!” + </p> + <p> + The old man sobbed aloud. The young man stood trembling, and ashy pale. + Still, the habits of his profession, and the experience of dangers + overcome, together with a certain sense of power, kept him up; but, above + all, love and duty said, “Be firm.” He asked for an outline of the + symptoms. + </p> + <p> + They alarmed him greatly. + </p> + <p> + “Let us lose no more time,” said he. “I will see her at once.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you object to my being present?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course not.” + </p> + <p> + “Shall I tell you what Dr. Snell says it is, and Mr. Wyman?” + </p> + <p> + “By all means—after I have seen her.” + </p> + <p> + This comforted Mr. Lusignan. He was to get an independent judgment, at all + events. + </p> + <p> + When they reached the top of the stairs, Dr. Staines paused and leaned + against the baluster. “Give me a moment,” said he. “The patient must not + know how my heart is beating, and she must see nothing in my face but what + I choose her to see. Give me your hand once more, sir; let us both control + ourselves. Now announce me.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Lusignan opened the door, and said, with forced cheerfulness, “Dr. + Staines, my dear, come to give you the benefit of his skill.” + </p> + <p> + She lay on the sofa, just as we left her. Only her bosom began to heave. + </p> + <p> + Then Christopher Staines drew himself up, and the majesty of knowledge and + love together seemed to dilate his noble frame. He fixed his eye on that + reclining, panting figure, and stepped lightly but firmly across the room + to know the worst, like a lion walking up to levelled lances. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. + </h2> + <p> + The young physician walked steadily up to his patient without taking his + eye off her, and drew a chair to her side. + </p> + <p> + Then she took down one hand—the left—and gave it him, averting + her face tenderly, and still covering it with her right; “For,” said she + to herself, “I am such a fright now.” This opportune reflection, and her + heaving bosom, proved that she at least felt herself something more than + his patient. Her pretty consciousness made his task more difficult; + nevertheless, he only allowed himself to press her hand tenderly with both + his palms one moment, and then he entered on his functions bravely. “I am + here as your physician.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said she softly. + </p> + <p> + He gently detained the hand, and put his finger lightly to her pulse; it + was palpitating, and a fallacious test. Oh, how that beating pulse, by + love's electric current, set his own heart throbbing in a moment! + </p> + <p> + He put her hand gently, reluctantly down, and said, “Oblige me by turning + this way.” She turned, and he winced internally at the change in her; but + his face betrayed nothing. He looked at her full; and, after a pause, put + her some questions: one was as to the color of the hemorrhage. She said it + was bright red. + </p> + <p> + “Not a tinge of purple?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said she hopefully, mistaking him. + </p> + <p> + He suppressed a sigh. + </p> + <p> + Then he listened at her shoulder-blade and at her chest, and made her draw + her breath while he was listening. The acts were simple, and usual in + medicine, but there was a deep, patient, silent intensity about his way of + doing them. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Lusignan crept nearer, and stood with both hands on a table, and his + old head bowed, awaiting yet dreading the verdict. + </p> + <p> + Up to this time, Dr. Staines, instead of tapping and squeezing, and + pulling the patient about, had never touched her with his hand, and only + grazed her with his ear; but now he said “Allow me,” and put both hands to + her waist, more lightly and reverently than I can describe; “Now draw a + deep breath, if you please.” + </p> + <p> + “There!” + </p> + <p> + “If you could draw a deeper still,” said he, insinuatingly. + </p> + <p> + “There, then!” said she, a little pettishly. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Staines's eye kindled. + </p> + <p> + “Hum!” said he. Then, after a considerable pause, “Are you better or worse + after each hemorrhage?” + </p> + <p> + “La!” said Rosa; “they never asked me that. Why, better.” + </p> + <p> + “No faintness?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit.” + </p> + <p> + “Rather a sense of relief, perhaps?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I feel lighter and better.” + </p> + <p> + The examination was concluded. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Staines looked at Rosa, and then at her father. The agony in that aged + face, and the love that agony implied, won him, and it was to the parent + he turned to give his verdict. + </p> + <p> + “The hemorrhage is from the lungs”— + </p> + <p> + Lusignan interrupted him: “From the lungs!” cried he, in dismay. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; a slight congestion of the lungs.” + </p> + <p> + “But not incurable! Oh, not incurable, doctor!” + </p> + <p> + “Heaven forbid! It is curable—easily—by removing the cause.” + </p> + <p> + “And what is the cause?” + </p> + <p> + “The cause?”—he hesitated, and looked rather uneasy.—“Well, + the cause, sir, is—tight stays.” + </p> + <p> + The tranquillity of the meeting was instantly disturbed. “Tight stays! + Me!” cried Rosa. “Why, I am the loosest girl in England. Look, papa!” And, + without any apparent effort, she drew herself in, and poked her little + fist between her sash and her gown. “There!” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Staines smiled sadly and a little sarcastically: he was evidently shy + of encountering the lady in this argument; but he was more at his ease + with her father; so he turned towards him and lectured him freely. + </p> + <p> + “That is wonderful, sir; and the first four or five female patients that + favored me with it, made me disbelieve my other senses; but Miss Lusignan + is now about the thirtieth who has shown me that marvellous feat, with a + calm countenance that belies the herculean effort. Nature has her + every-day miracles: a boa-constrictor, diameter seventeen inches, can + swallow a buffalo; a woman, with her stays bisecting her almost, and + lacerating her skin, can yet for one moment make herself seem slack, to + deceive a juvenile physician. The snake is the miracle of expansion; the + woman is the prodigy of contraction.” + </p> + <p> + “Highly grateful for the comparison!” cried Rosa. “Women and snakes!” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Staines blushed and looked uncomfortable. “I did not mean to be + offensive; it certainly was a very clumsy comparison.” + </p> + <p> + “What does that matter?” said Mr. Lusignan, impatiently. “Be quiet, Rosa, + and let Dr. Staines and me talk sense.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, then I am nobody in the business!” said this wise young lady. + </p> + <p> + “You are everybody,” said Staines, soothingly. “But,” suggested he, + obsequiously, “if you don't mind, I would rather explain my views to your + father—on this one subject.” + </p> + <p> + “And a pretty subject it is!” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Staines then invited Mr. Lusignan to his lodgings, and promised to + explain the matter anatomically. “Meantime,” said he, “would you be good + enough to put your hands to my waist, as I did to the patient's.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Lusignan complied; and the patient began to titter directly, to put + them out of countenance. + </p> + <p> + “Please observe what takes place when I draw a full breath. + </p> + <p> + “Now apply the same test to the patient. Breathe your best, please, Miss + Lusignan.” + </p> + <p> + The patient put on a face full of saucy mutiny. + </p> + <p> + “To oblige us both.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how tiresome!” + </p> + <p> + “I am aware it is rather laborious,” said Staines, a little dryly; “but to + oblige your father!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, anything to oblige papa,” said she, spitefully. “There! And I do hope + it will be the last—la! no; I don't hope that, neither.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Staines politely ignored her little attempts to interrupt the + argument. “You found, sir, that the muscles of my waist, and my + intercostal ribs themselves, rose and fell with each inhalation and + exhalation of air by the lungs.” + </p> + <p> + “I did; but my daughter's waist was like dead wood, and so were her lower + ribs.” + </p> + <p> + At this volunteer statement, Rosa colored to her temples. “Thanks, papa! + Pack me off to London, and sell me for a big doll!” + </p> + <p> + “In other words,” said the lecturer, mild and pertinacious, “with us the + lungs have room to blow, and the whole bony frame expands elastic with + them, like the woodwork of a blacksmith's bellows; but with this patient, + and many of her sex, that noble and divinely framed bellows is crippled + and confined by a powerful machine of human construction; so it works + lamely and feebly: consequently too little air, and of course too little + oxygen, passes through that spongy organ whose very life is air. Now mark + the special result in this case: being otherwise healthy and vigorous, our + patient's system sends into the lungs more blood than that one crippled + organ can deal with; a small quantity becomes extravasated at odd times; + it accumulates, and would become dangerous; then Nature, strengthened by + sleep, and by some hours' relief from the diabolical engine, makes an + effort and flings it off: that is why the hemorrhage comes in the morning, + and why she is the better for it, feeling neither faint nor sick, but + relieved of a weight. This, sir, is the rationale of the complaint; and it + is to you I must look for the cure. To judge from my other female + patients, and from the few words Miss Lusignan has let fall, I fear we + must not count on any very hearty co-operation from her: but you are her + father, and have great authority; I conjure you to use it to the full, as + you once used it—to my sorrow—in this very room. I am + forgetting my character. I was asked here only as her physician. + Good-evening.” + </p> + <p> + He gave a little gulp, and hurried away, with an abruptness that touched + the father and offended the sapient daughter. + </p> + <p> + However, Mr. Lusignan followed him, and stopped him before he left the + house, and thanked him warmly; and to his surprise, begged him to call + again in a day or two. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Rosa, what do you say?” + </p> + <p> + “I say that I am very unfortunate in my doctors. Mr. Wyman is a chatterbox + and knows nothing. Dr. Snell is Mr. Wyman's echo. Christopher is a genius, + and they are always full of crotchets. A pretty doctor! Gone away, and not + prescribed for me!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Lusignan admitted it was odd. “But, after all,” said he, “if medicine + does you no good?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! but any medicine HE had prescribed would have done me good, and that + makes it all the unkinder.” + </p> + <p> + “If you think so highly of his skill, why not take his advice? It can do + no harm.” + </p> + <p> + “No harm? Why, if I was to leave them off I should catch a dreadful cold; + and that would be sure to settle on my chest, and carry me off, in my + present delicate state. Besides, it is so unfeminine not to wear them.” + </p> + <p> + This staggered Mr. Lusignan, and he was afraid to press the point; but + what Staines had said fermented in his mind. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Snell and Mr. Wyman continued their visits and their prescriptions. + </p> + <p> + The patient got a little worse. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Lusignan hoped Christopher would call again, but he did not. + </p> + <p> + When Dr. Staines had satisfied himself that the disorder was easily + curable, then wounded pride found an entrance even into his loving heart. + That two strangers should have been consulted before him! He was only sent + for because they could not cure her. + </p> + <p> + As he seemed in no hurry to repeat his visit, Mr. Lusignan called on him, + and said, politely, he had hoped to receive another call ere this. + “Personally,” said he, “I was much struck with your observations; but my + daughter is afraid she will catch cold if she leaves off her corset, and + that, you know, might be very serious.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Staines groaned, and, when he had groaned, he lectured. “Female + patients are wonderfully monotonous in this matter; they have a programme + of evasions; and whether the patient is a lady or a housemaid, she seldom + varies from that programme. You find her breathing life's air with half a + bellows, and you tell her so. 'Oh, no,' says she; and does the gigantic + feat of contraction we witnessed that evening at your house. But, on + inquiry, you learn there is a raw red line ploughed in her flesh by the + cruel stays. 'What is that?' you ask, and flatter yourself you have pinned + her. Not a bit. 'That was the last pair. I changed them, because they hurt + me.' Driven out of that by proofs of recent laceration, they say, 'If I + leave them off I should catch my death of cold,' which is equivalent to + saying there is no flannel in the shops, no common sense nor needles at + home.” + </p> + <p> + He then laid before him some large French plates, showing the organs of + the human trunk, and bade him observe in how small a space, and with what + skill, the Creator has packed so many large yet delicate organs, so that + they should be free and secure from friction, though so close to each + other. He showed him the liver, an organ weighing four pounds, and of + large circumference; the lungs, a very large organ, suspended in the chest + and impatient of pressure; the heart, the stomach, the spleen, all of them + too closely and artfully packed to bear any further compression. + </p> + <p> + Having thus taken him by the eye, he took him by the mind. + </p> + <p> + “Is it a small thing for the creature to say to her Creator, 'I can pack + all this egg-china better than you can,' and thereupon to jam all those + vital organs close, by a powerful, a very powerful and ingenious machine? + Is it a small thing for that sex, which, for good reasons, the Omniscient + has made larger in the waist than the male, to say to her Creator, 'You + don't know your business; women ought to be smaller in the waist than men, + and shall be throughout the civilized world'?” + </p> + <p> + In short, he delivered so many true and pointed things on this trite + subject, that the old gentleman was convinced, and begged him to come over + that very evening and convince Rosa. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Staines shook his head dolefully, and all his fire died out of him at + having to face the fair. “Reason will be wasted. Authority is the only + weapon. My profession and my reading have both taught me that the whole + character of her sex undergoes a change the moment a man interferes with + their dress. From Chaucer's day to our own, neither public satire nor + private remonstrance has ever shaken any of their monstrous fashions. + Easy, obliging, pliable, and weaker of will than men in other things, do + but touch their dress, however objectionable, and rock is not harder, iron + is not more stubborn, than these soft and yielding creatures. It is no + earthly use my coming—I'll come.” + </p> + <p> + He came that very evening, and saw directly she was worse. “Of course,” + said he, sadly, “you have not taken my advice.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa replied with a toss and an evasion, “I was not worth a prescription!” + </p> + <p> + “A physician can prescribe without sending his patient to the druggist; + and when he does, then it is his words are gold.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa shook her head with an air of lofty incredulity. + </p> + <p> + He looked ruefully at Mr. Lusignan and was silent. Rosa smiled + sarcastically; she thought he was at his wit's end. + </p> + <p> + Not quite: he was cudgelling his brains in search of some horribly + unscientific argument, that might prevail; for he felt science would fall + dead upon so fair an antagonist. At last his eye kindled; he had hit on an + argument unscientific enough for anybody, he thought. Said he, + ingratiatingly, “You believe the Old Testament?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I do, every syllable.” + </p> + <p> + “And the lessons it teaches?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly!” + </p> + <p> + “Then let me tell you a story from that book. A Syrian general had a + terrible disease. He consulted Elisha by deputy. Elisha said, 'Bathe seven + times in a certain river, Jordan, and you will get well.' The general did + not like this at all; he wanted a prescription; wanted to go to the + druggist; didn't believe in hydropathy to begin, and, in any case, turned + up his nose at Jordan. What! bathe in an Israelitish brook, when his own + country boasted noble rivers, with a reputation for sanctity into the + bargain? In short, he preferred his leprosy to such irregular medicine. + But it happened, by some immense fortuity, that one of his servants, + though an Oriental, was a friend, instead of a flatterer; and this + sensible fellow said, 'If the prophet told you to do some great and + difficult thing, to get rid of this fearful malady, would not you do it, + however distasteful? and can you hesitate when he merely says, Wash in the + Jordan, and be healed?' The general listened to good sense, and cured + himself. Your case is parallel. You would take quantities of foul + medicine; you would submit to some painful operation, if life and health + depended on it; then why not do a small thing for a great result? You have + only to take off an unnatural machine which cripples your growing frame, + and was unknown to every one of the women whose forms in Parian marble the + world admires. Off with that monstrosity, and your cure is as certain as + the Syrian general's; though science, and not inspiration, dictates the + easy remedy.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa had listened impatiently, and now replied with some warmth, “This is + shockingly profane. The idea of comparing yourself to Elisha, and me to a + horrid leper! Much obliged! Not that I know what a leper is.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, come! that is not fair,” said Mr. Lusignan. “He only compared the + situation, not the people.” + </p> + <p> + “But, papa, the Bible is not to be dragged into the common affairs of + life.” + </p> + <p> + “Then what on earth is the use of it?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, papa! Well, it is not Sunday, but I have had a sermon. This is the + clergyman, and you are the commentator—he! he! And so now let us go + back from divinity to medicine. I repeat” (this was the first time she had + said it) “that my other doctors give me real prescriptions, written in + hieroglyphics. You can't look at them without feeling there MUST be + something in them.” + </p> + <p> + An angry spot rose on Christopher's cheek, but he only said, “And are your + other doctors satisfied with the progress your disorder is making under + their superintendence?” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly! Papa, tell him what they say, and I'll find him their + prescriptions.” She went to a drawer, and rummaged, affecting not to + listen. + </p> + <p> + Lusignan complied. “First of all, sir, I must tell you they are confident + it is not the lungs, but the liver.” + </p> + <p> + “The what!” shouted Christopher. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” screamed Rosa. “Oh, don't!—bawling!” + </p> + <p> + “And don't you screech,” said her father, with a look of misery and + apprehension impartially distributed on the resounding pair. + </p> + <p> + “You must have misunderstood them,” murmured Staines, in a voice that was + now barely audible a yard off. “The hemorrhage of a bright red color, and + expelled without effort or nausea?” + </p> + <p> + “From the liver—they have assured me again and again,” said + Lusignan. + </p> + <p> + Christopher's face still wore a look of blank amazement, till Rosa herself + confirmed it positively. + </p> + <p> + Then he cast a look of agony upon her, and started up in a passion, + forgetting once more that his host abhorred the sonorous. “Oh, shame! + shame!” he cried, “that the noble profession of medicine should be + disgraced by ignorance such as this.” Then he said, sternly, “Sir, do not + mistake my motives; but I decline to have anything further to do with this + case, until those two gentlemen have been relieved of it; and, as this is + very harsh, and on my part unprecedented, I will give you one reason out + of many I COULD give you. Sir, there is no road from the liver to the + throat by which blood can travel in this way, defying the laws of gravity; + and they knew, from the patient, that no strong expellent force has ever + been in operation. Their diagnosis, therefore, implies agnosis, or + ignorance too great to be forgiven. I will not share my patient with two + gentlemen who know so little of medicine, and know nothing of anatomy, + which is the A B C of medicine. Can I see their prescriptions?” + </p> + <p> + These were handed to him. “Good heavens!” said he, “have you taken all + these?” + </p> + <p> + “Most of them.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, then you have drunk about two gallons of unwholesome liquids, and + eaten a pound or two of unwholesome solids. These medicines have + co-operated with the malady. The disorder lies, not in the hemorrhage, but + in the precedent extravasation that is a drain on the system; and how is + the loss to be supplied? Why, by taking a little more nourishment than + before; there is no other way; and probably Nature, left to herself, might + have increased your appetite to meet the occasion. But those two worthies + have struck that weapon out of Nature's hand; they have peppered away at + the poor ill-used stomach with drugs and draughts, not very deleterious I + grant you, but all more or less indigestible, and all tending, not to whet + the appetite, but to clog the stomach, or turn the stomach, or pester the + stomach, and so impair the appetite, and so co-operate, indirectly, with + the malady.” + </p> + <p> + “This is good sense,” said Lusignan. “I declare, I—I wish I knew how + to get rid of them.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'll do that, papa.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no; it is not worth a rumpus.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll do it too politely for that. Christopher, you are very clever—TERRIBLY + clever. Whenever I threw their medicines away, I was always a little + better that day. I will sacrifice them to you. It IS a sacrifice. They are + both so kind and chatty, and don't grudge me hieroglyphics; now you do.” + </p> + <p> + She sat down and wrote two sweet letters to Dr. Snell and Mr. Wyman, + thanking them for the great attention they had paid her; but finding + herself getting steadily worse, in spite of all they had done for her, she + proposed to discontinue her medicines for a time, and try change of air. + </p> + <p> + “And suppose they call to see whether you are changing the air?” + </p> + <p> + “In that case, papa—'not at home.'” + </p> + <p> + The notes were addressed and despatched. + </p> + <p> + Then Dr. Staines brightened up, and said to Lusignan, “I am now happy to + tell you that I have overrated the malady. The sad change I see in Miss + Lusignan is partly due to the great bulk of unwholesome esculents she has + been eating and drinking under the head of medicines. These discontinued, + she might linger on for years, existing, though not living—the + tight-laced cannot be said to live. But if she would be healthy and happy, + let her throw that diabolical machine into the fire. It is no use asking + her to loosen it; she can't. Once there, the temptation is too strong. Off + with it, and, take my word, you will be one of the healthiest and most + vigorous young ladies in Europe.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa looked rueful, and almost sullen. She said she had parted with her + doctors for him, but she really could not go about without stays. “They + are as loose as they can be. See!” + </p> + <p> + “That part of the programme is disposed of,” said Christopher. “Please go + on to No. 2. How about the raw red line where the loose machine has sawed + you?” + </p> + <p> + “What red line? No such thing! Somebody or other has been peeping in at my + window. I'll have the ivy cut down to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Simpleton!” said Mr. Lusignan, angrily. “You have let the cat out of the + bag. There is such a mark, then, and this extraordinary young man has + discerned it with the eye of science.” + </p> + <p> + “He never discerned it at all,” said Rosa, red as fire; “and, what is + more, he never will.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't want to. I should be very sorry to. I hope it will be gone in a + week.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish YOU were gone now—exposing me in this cruel way,” said Rosa, + angry with herself for having said an idiotic thing, and furious with him + for having made her say it. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Rosa!” said Christopher, in a voice of tenderest reproach. + </p> + <p> + But Mr. Lusignan interfered promptly. “Rosa, no noise. I will not have you + snapping at your best friend and mine. If you are excited, you had better + retire to your own room and compose yourself. I hate a clamor.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa made a wry face at this rebuke, and then began to cry quietly. + </p> + <p> + Every tear was like a drop of blood from Christopher's heart. “Pray don't + scold her, sir,” said he, ready to snivel himself. “She meant nothing + unkind: it is only her pretty sprightly way; and she did not really + imagine a love so reverent as mine”— + </p> + <p> + “Don't YOU interfere between my father and me,” said this reasonable young + lady, now in an ungovernable state of feminine irritability. + </p> + <p> + “No, Rosa,” said Christopher, humbly. “Mr. Lusignan,” said he, “I hope you + will tell her that, from the very first, I was unwilling to enter on this + subject with HER. Neither she nor I can forget my double character. I have + not said half as much to her as I ought, being her physician; and yet you + see I have said more than she can bear from me, who, she knows, love her + and revere her. Then, once for all, do pray let me put this delicate + matter into your hands: it is a case for parental authority.” + </p> + <p> + “Unfatherly tyranny, that means,” said Rosa. “What business have gentlemen + interfering in such things? It is unheard of. I will not submit to it, + even from papa.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you need not scream at me,” said Mr. Lusignan; and he shrugged his + shoulders to Staines. “She is impracticable, you see. If I do my duty, + there will be a disturbance.” + </p> + <p> + Now this roused the bile of Dr. Staines. “What, sir!” said he, “you could + separate her and me by your authority, here in this very room; and yet, + when her life is at stake, you abdicate! You could part her from a man who + loved her with every drop of his heart,—and she said she loved him, + or, at all events, preferred him to others,—and you cannot part her + from a miserable corset, although you see in her poor wasted face that it + is carrying her to the churchyard. In that case, sir, there is but one + thing for you to do,—withdraw your opposition and let me marry her. + As her lover I am powerless; but invest me with a husband's authority, and + you will soon see the roses return to her cheek, and her elastic figure + expanding, and her eye beaming with health and the happiness that comes of + perfect health.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Lusignan made an answer neither of his hearers expected. He said, “I + have a great mind to take you at your word. I am too old and fond of quiet + to drive a Simpleton in single harness.” + </p> + <p> + This contemptuous speech, and, above all, the word Simpleton, which had + been applied to her pretty freely by young ladies at school, and always + galled her terribly, inflicted so intolerable a wound on Rosa's vanity, + that she was ready to burst: on that, of course, her stays contributed + their mite of physical uneasiness. Thus irritated mind and body, she + burned to strike in return; and as she could not slap her father in the + presence of another, she gave it Christopher back-handed. + </p> + <p> + “You can turn me out of doors,” said she, “if you are tired of your + daughter, but I am not such a SIMPLETON as to marry a tyrant. No; he has + shown the cloven foot in time. A husband's AUTHORITY, indeed!” Then she + turned her hand, and gave it him direct. “You told me a different story + when you were paying your court to me; then you were to be my servant,—all + hypocritical sweetness. You had better go and marry a Circassian slave. + They don't wear stays, and they do wear trousers; so she will be + unfeminine enough, even for you. No English lady would let her husband + dictate to her about such a thing. I can have as many husbands as I like, + without falling into the clutches of a tyrant. You are a rude, indelicate—And + so please understand it is all over between you and me.” + </p> + <p> + Both her auditors stood aghast, for she uttered this conclusion with a + dignity of which the opening gave no promise, and the occasion, weighed in + masculine balances, was not worthy. + </p> + <p> + “You do not mean that. You cannot mean it,” said Dr. Staines, aghast. + </p> + <p> + “I do mean it,” said she, firmly; “and, if you are a gentleman, you will + not compel me to say it twice—three times, I mean.” + </p> + <p> + At this dagger-stroke Christopher turned very pale, but he maintained his + dignity. “I am a gentleman,” said he, quietly, “and a very unfortunate + one. Good-by, sir; thank you kindly. Good-by, Rosa; God bless you! Oh, + pray take a thought! Remember, your life and death are in your own hand + now. I am powerless.” + </p> + <p> + And he left the house in sorrow, and just, but not pettish, indignation. + </p> + <p> + When he was gone, father and daughter looked at each other, and there was + the silence that succeeds a storm. + </p> + <p> + Rosa, feeling the most uneasy, was the first to express her satisfaction. + “There, HE is gone, and I am glad of it. Now you and I shall never quarrel + again. I was quite right. Such impertinence! Such indelicacy! A fine + prospect for me if I had married such a man! However, he is gone, and so + there's an end of it. The idea! telling a young lady, before her father, + she is tight-laced! If you had not been there I could have forgiven him. + But I am not; it is a story. Now,” suddenly exalting her voice, “I know + you believe him.” + </p> + <p> + “I say nothing,” whispered papa, hoping to still her by example. This ruse + did not succeed. + </p> + <p> + “But you look volumes,” cried she: “and I can't bear it. I won't bear it. + If you don't believe ME, ask my MAID.” And with this felicitous speech, + she rang the bell. + </p> + <p> + “You'll break the wire if you don't mind,” suggested her father, + piteously. + </p> + <p> + “All the better! Why should not wires be broken as well as my heart? Oh, + here she is! Now, Harriet, come here.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, miss.” + </p> + <p> + “And tell the truth. AM I tight-laced?” + </p> + <p> + Harriet looked in her face a moment to see what was required of her, and + then said, “That you are not, miss. I never dressed a young lady as wore + 'em easier than you do.” + </p> + <p> + “There, papa! That will do, Harriet.” + </p> + <p> + Harriet retired as far as the keyhole; she saw something was up. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said Rosa, “you see I was right; and, after all, it was a match you + did not approve. Well, it is all over, and now you may write to your + favorite, Colonel Bright. If he comes here, I'll box his old ears. I hate + him. I hate them all. Forgive your wayward girl. I'll stay with you all my + days. I dare say that will not be long, now I have quarrelled with my + guardian angel; and all for what? Papa! papa! how CAN you sit there and + not speak me one word of comfort? 'SIMPLETON?' Ah! that I am to throw away + a love a queen is scarcely worthy of; and all for what? Really, if it + wasn't for the ingratitude and wickedness of the thing, it is too + laughable. Ha! ha!—oh! oh! oh!—ha! ha! ha!” + </p> + <p> + And off she went into hysterics, and began to gulp and choke frightfully. + </p> + <p> + Her father cried for help in dismay. In ran Harriet, saw, and screamed, + but did not lose her head; this veracious person whipped a pair of + scissors off the table, and cut the young lady's stay-laces directly. Then + there was a burst of imprisoned beauty; a deep, deep sigh of relief came + from a bosom that would have done honor to Diana; and the scene soon + concluded with fits of harmless weeping, renewed at intervals. + </p> + <p> + When it had settled down to this, her father, to soothe her, said he would + write to Dr. Staines, and bring about a reconciliation, if she liked. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said she, “you shall kill me sooner. I should die of shame.” + </p> + <p> + She added, “Oh, pray, from this hour, never mention his name to me.” + </p> + <p> + And then she had another cry. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Lusignan was a sensible man: he dropped the subject for the present; + but he made up his mind to one thing—that he would never part with + Dr. Staines as a physician. + </p> + <p> + Next day Rosa kept her own room until dinner-time, and was as unhappy as + she deserved to be. She spent her time in sewing on stiff flannel linings + and crying. She half hoped Christopher would write to her, so that she + might write back that she forgave him. But not a line. + </p> + <p> + At half-past six her volatile mind took a turn, real or affected. She + would cry no more for an ungrateful fellow,—ungrateful for not + seeing through the stone walls how she had been employed all the morning; + and making it up. So she bathed her red eyes, made a great alteration in + her dress, and came dancing into the room humming an Italian ditty. + </p> + <p> + As they were sitting together in the dining-room after dinner, two letters + came by the same post to Mr. Lusignan from Mr. Wyman and Dr. Snell. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wyman's letter:— + </p> + <p> + DEAR SIR,—I am sorry to hear from Miss Lusignan that she intends to + discontinue medical advice. The disorder was progressing favorably, and + nothing to be feared, under proper treatment. + </p> + <p> + Yours, etc. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Snell's letter:— + </p> + <p> + DEAR SIR,—Miss Lusignan has written to me somewhat impatiently and + seems disposed to dispense with my visits. I do not, however, think it + right to withdraw without telling you candidly that this is an unwise + step. Your daughter's health is in a very precarious condition. + </p> + <p> + Yours, etc. + </p> + <p> + Rosa burst out laughing. “I have nothing to fear, and I'm on the brink of + the grave. That comes of writing without a consultation. If they had + written at one table, I should have been neither well nor ill. Poor + Christopher!” and her sweet face began to work piteously. + </p> + <p> + “There! there! drink a glass of wine.” + </p> + <p> + She did, and a tear with it, that ran into the glass like lightning. + </p> + <p> + Warned by this that grief sat very near the bright, hilarious surface, Mr. + Lusignan avoided all emotional subjects for the present. Next day, + however, he told her she might dismiss her lover, but no power should make + him dismiss his pet physician, unless her health improved. + </p> + <p> + “I will not give you that excuse for inflicting him on me again,” said the + young hypocrite. + </p> + <p> + She kept her word. She got better and better, stronger, brighter, gayer. + </p> + <p> + She took to walking every day, and increasing the distance, till she could + walk ten miles without fatigue. + </p> + <p> + Her favorite walk was to a certain cliff that commanded a noble view of + the sea. To get to it she must pass through the town of Gravesend; and we + may be sure she did not pass so often through that city without some idea + of meeting the lover she had used so ill, and eliciting an APOLOGY from + him. Sly puss! + </p> + <p> + When she had walked twenty times, or thereabouts, through the town, and + never seen him, she began to fear she had offended him past hope. Then she + used to cry at the end of every walk. + </p> + <p> + But by and by bodily health, vanity, and temper combined to rouse the + defiant spirit. Said she, “If he really loved me, he would not take my + word in such a hurry. And besides, why does he not watch me, and find out + what I am doing, and where I walk?” + </p> + <p> + At last she really began to persuade herself that she was an ill-used and + slighted girl. She was very angry at times, and disconsolate at others; a + mixed state in which hasty and impulsive young ladies commit lifelong + follies. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Lusignan observed the surface only: he saw his invalid daughter + getting better every day, till at last she became a picture of health and + bodily vigor. Relieved of his fears, he troubled his head but little about + Christopher Staines. Yet he esteemed him, and had got to like him; but + Rosa was a beauty, and could do better than marry a struggling physician, + however able. He launched out into a little gayety, resumed his quiet + dinner-parties; and, after some persuasion, took his now blooming daughter + to a ball given by the officers of Chatham. + </p> + <p> + She was the belle of the ball beyond dispute, and danced with ethereal + grace and athletic endurance. She was madly fond of waltzing, and here she + encountered what she was pleased to call a divine dancer. It was a Mr. + Reginald Falcon, a gentleman who had retired to the seaside to recruit his + health and finances sore tried by London and Paris. Falcon had run through + his fortune, but had acquired, in the process, certain talents which, as + they cost the acquirer dear, so they sometimes repay him, especially if he + is not overburdened with principle, and adopts the notion that, the world + having plucked him, he has a right to pluck the world. He could play + billiards well, but never so well as when backing himself for a heavy + stake. He could shoot pigeons well, and his shooting improved under that + which makes some marksmen miss—a heavy bet against the gun. He + danced to perfection; and being a well-bred, experienced, brazen, adroit + fellow, who knew a little of everything that was going, he had always + plenty to say. Above all, he had made a particular study of the fair sex; + had met with many successes, many rebuffs; and, at last, by keen study of + their minds, and a habit he had acquired of watching their faces, and + shifting his helm accordingly, had learned the great art of pleasing them. + They admired his face; to me, the short space between his eyes and his + hair, his aquiline nose, and thin straight lips, suggested the bird of + prey a little too much: but to fair doves, born to be clutched, this + similitude perhaps was not very alarming, even if they observed it. + </p> + <p> + Rosa danced several times with him, and told him he danced like an angel. + He informed her that was because, for once, he was dancing with an angel. + She laughed and blushed. He flattered deliciously, and it cost him little; + for he fell in love with her that night, deeper than he had ever been in + his whole life of intrigue. He asked leave to call on her: she looked a + little shy at that, and did not respond. He instantly withdrew his + proposal, with an apology and a sigh that raised her pity. However, she + was not a forward girl, even when excited by dancing and charmed with her + partner; so she left him to find his own way out of that difficulty. + </p> + <p> + He was not long about it. At the end of the next waltz he asked her if he + might venture to solicit an introduction to her father. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, certainly,” said she. “What a selfish girl I am! this is terribly + dull for him.” + </p> + <p> + The introduction being made, and Rosa being engaged for the next three + dances, Mr. Falcon sat by Mr. Lusignan and entertained him. For this + little piece of apparent self-denial he was paid in various coin: Lusignan + found out he was the son of an old acquaintance, and so the door of Kent + Villa opened to him; meantime, Rosa Lusignan never passed him, even in the + arms of a cavalry officer, without bestowing a glance of approval and + gratitude on him. “What a good-hearted young man!” thought she. “How kind + of him to amuse papa; and now I can stay so much longer.” + </p> + <p> + Falcon followed up the dance by a call, and was infinitely agreeable: + followed up the call by another, and admired Rosa with so little disguise + that Mr. Lusignan said to her, “I think you have made a conquest. His + father had considerable estates in Essex. I presume he inherits them.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, never mind his estates,” said Rosa, “he dances like an angel, and + gossips charmingly, and IS so nice.” + </p> + <p> + Christopher Staines pined for this girl in silence: his fine frame got + thinner, his pale cheek paler, as she got rosier and rosier; and how? Why, + by following the very advice she had snubbed him for giving her. At last, + he heard she had been the belle of a ball, and that she had been seen + walking miles from home, and blooming as a Hebe. Then his deep anxiety + ceased, his pride stung him furiously; he began to think of his own value, + and to struggle with all his might against his deep love. Sometimes he + would even inveigh against her, and call her a fickle, ungrateful girl, + capable of no strong passion but vanity. Many a hard term he applied to + her in his sorrowful solitude; but not a word when he had a hearer. He + found it hard to rest: he kept dashing up to London and back. He plunged + furiously into study. He groaned and sighed, and fought the hard and + bitter fight that is too often the lot of the deep that love the shallow. + Strong, but single-hearted, no other lady could comfort him. He turned + from female company, and shunned all for the fault of one. + </p> + <p> + The inward contest wore him. He began to look very thin and wan; and all + for a Simpleton! + </p> + <p> + Mr. Falcon prolonged his stay in the neighborhood, and drove a handsome + dogcart over twice a week to visit Mr. Lusignan. + </p> + <p> + He used to call on that gentleman at four o'clock, for at that hour Mr. + Lusignan was always out, and his daughter always at home. + </p> + <p> + She was at home at that hour because she took her long walks in the + morning. While her new admirer was in bed, or dressing, or breakfasting, + she was springing along the road with all the elasticity of youth, and + health, and native vigor, braced by daily exercise. + </p> + <p> + Twenty-one of these walks did she take, with no other result than health + and appetite; but the twenty-second was more fertile—extremely + fertile. Starting later than usual, she passed through Gravesend while + Reginald Falcon was smoking at his front window. He saw her, and instantly + doffed his dressing-gown and donned his coat to follow her. He was madly + in love with her, and being a man who had learned to shoot pigeons and + opportunities flying, he instantly resolved to join her in her walk, get + her clear of the town, by the sea-beach, where beauty melts, and propose + to her. Yes, marriage had not been hitherto his habit, but this girl was + peerless: he was pledged by honor and gratitude to Phoebe Dale; but hang + all that now. “No man should marry one woman when he loves another; it is + dishonorable.” He got into the street and followed her as fast as he could + without running. + </p> + <p> + It was not so easy to catch her. Ladies are not built for running; but a + fine, tall, symmetrical girl who has practised walking fast can cover the + ground wonderfully in walking—if she chooses. It was a sight to see + how Rosa Lusignan squared her shoulders and stepped out from the waist + like a Canadian girl skating, while her elastic foot slapped the pavement + as she spanked along. + </p> + <p> + She had nearly cleared the town before Falcon came up with her. + </p> + <p> + He was hardly ten yards from her when an unexpected incident occurred. She + whisked round the corner of Bird Street, and ran plump against Christopher + Staines; in fact, she darted into his arms, and her face almost touched + the breast she had wounded so deeply. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. + </h2> + <p> + Rosa cried “Oh!” and put up her hands to her face in lovely confusion, + coloring like a peony. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon,” said Christopher, stiffly, but in a voice that + trembled. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Rosa, “it was I ran against you. I walk so fast now. Hope I did + not hurt you.” + </p> + <p> + “Hurt me?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, frighten you?” + </p> + <p> + No answer. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, please don't quarrel with me in the STREET,” said Rosa, cunningly + implying that he was the quarrelsome one. “I am going on the beach. + Good-by!” This adieu she uttered softly, and in a hesitating tone that + belied it. She started off, however, but much more slowly than she was + going before; and, as she went, she turned her head with infinite grace, + and kept looking askant down at the pavement two yards behind her: + moreover she went close to the wall, and left room at her side for another + to walk. + </p> + <p> + Christopher hesitated a moment; but the mute invitation, so arch yet + timid, so pretty, tender, sly, and womanly, was too much for him, as it + has generally proved for males, and the philosopher's foot was soon in the + very place to which the Simpleton with the mere tail of her eye directed + it. + </p> + <p> + They walked along, side by side, in silence, Staines agitated, gloomy, + confused, Rosa radiant and glowing, yet not knowing what to say for + herself, and wanting Christopher to begin. So they walked along without a + word. + </p> + <p> + Falcon followed them at some distance to see whether it was an admirer or + only an acquaintance. A lover he never dreamed of; she had shown such + evident pleasure in his company, and had received his visits alone so + constantly. + </p> + <p> + However, when the pair had got to the beach, and were walking slower and + slower, he felt a pang of rage and jealousy, turned on his heel with an + audible curse, and found Phoebe Dale a few yards behind him with a white + face and a peculiar look. He knew what the look meant; he had brought it + to that faithful face before to-day. + </p> + <p> + “You are better, Miss Lusignan.” + </p> + <p> + “Better, Dr. Staines? I am health itself thanks to—hem!” + </p> + <p> + “Our estrangement has agreed with you?” This very bitterly. + </p> + <p> + “You know very well it is not that. Oh, please don't make me cry in the + streets.” + </p> + <p> + This humble petition, or rather meek threat, led to another long silence. + It was continued till they had nearly reached the shore. But, meantime, + Rosa's furtive eyes scanned Christopher's face, and her conscience smote + her at the signs of suffering. She felt a desire to beg his pardon with + deep humility; but she suppressed that weakness. She hung her head with a + pretty, sheepish air, and asked him if he could not think of something + agreeable to say to one after deserting one so long. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid not,” said Christopher, bluntly. “I have an awkward habit of + speaking the truth; and some people can't bear that, not even when it is + spoken for their good.” + </p> + <p> + “That depends on temper, and nerves, and things,” said Rosa, + deprecatingly; then softly, “I could bear anything from you now.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” said Christopher, grimly. “Well, then, I hear you had no sooner + got rid of your old lover, for loving you too well and telling you the + truth, than you took up another,—some flimsy man of fashion, who + will tell you any lie you like.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a story, a wicked story,” cried Rosa, thoroughly alarmed. “Me, a + lover! He dances like an angel; I can't help that.” + </p> + <p> + “Are his visits at your house like angels'—few and far between?” And + the true lover's brow lowered black upon her for the first time. + </p> + <p> + Rosa changed color, and her eyes fell a moment. “Ask papa,” she said. “His + father was an old friend of papa's.” + </p> + <p> + “Rosa, you are prevaricating. Young men do not call on old gentlemen when + there is an attractive young lady in the house.” + </p> + <p> + The argument was getting too close; so Rosa operated a diversion. “So,” + said she, with a sudden air of lofty disdain, swiftly and adroitly + assumed, “you have had me watched?” + </p> + <p> + “Not I; I only hear what people say.” + </p> + <p> + “Listen to gossip and not have me watched! That shows how little you + really cared for me. Well, if you had, you would have made a little + discovery, that is all.” + </p> + <p> + “Should I?” said Christopher, puzzled. “What?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall not tell you. Think what you please. Yes, sir, you would have + found out that I take long walks every day, all alone; and what is more, + that I walk through Gravesend, hoping—like a goose—that + somebody really loved me, and would meet me, and beg my pardon; and if he + had, I should have told him it was only my tongue, and my nerves, and + things; my heart was his, and my gratitude. And after all, what do words + signify, when I am a good, obedient girl at bottom? So that is what you + have lost by not condescending to look after me. Fine love!—Christopher, + beg my pardon.” + </p> + <p> + “May I inquire for what?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, for not understanding me; for not knowing that I should be sorry the + moment you were gone. I took them off the very next day, to please you.” + </p> + <p> + “Took off whom?—Oh, I understand. You did? Then you ARE a good + girl.” + </p> + <p> + “Didn't I tell you I was? A good, obedient girl, and anything but a + flirt.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't say that.” + </p> + <p> + “But I do. Don't interrupt. It is to your good advice I owe my health; and + to love anybody but you, when I owe you my love and my life, I must be a + heartless, ungrateful, worthless—Oh, Christopher, forgive me! No, + no; I mean, beg my pardon.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll do both,” said Christopher, taking her in his arms. “I beg your + pardon, and I forgive you.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa leaned her head tenderly on his shoulder, and began to sigh. “Oh, + dear, dear! I am a wicked, foolish girl, not fit to walk alone.” + </p> + <p> + On this admission, Christopher spoke out, and urged her to put an end to + all these unhappy misunderstandings, and to his new torment, jealousy, by + marrying him. + </p> + <p> + “And so I would this very minute, if papa would consent. But,” said she, + slyly, “you never can be so foolish to wish it. What! a wise man like you + marry a simpleton!” + </p> + <p> + “Did I ever call you that?” asked Christopher, reproachfully. + </p> + <p> + “No, dear; but you are the only one who has not; and perhaps I should lose + even the one, if you were to marry me. Oh, husbands are not so polite as + lovers! I have observed that, simpleton or not.” + </p> + <p> + Christopher assured her that he took quite a different view of her + character; he believed her to be too profound for shallow people to read + all in a moment: he even intimated that he himself had experienced no + little difficulty in understanding her at odd times. “And so,” said he, + “they turn round upon you, and instead of saying, 'We are too shallow to + fathom you,' they pretend you are a simpleton.” + </p> + <p> + This solution of the mystery had never occurred to Rosa, nor indeed was it + likely to occur to any creature less ingenious than a lover: it pleased + her hugely; her fine eyes sparkled, and she nestled closer still to the + strong arm that was to parry every ill, from mortal disease to galling + epithets. + </p> + <p> + She listened with a willing ear to all his reasons, his hopes, his fears, + and, when they reached her father's door, it was settled that he should + dine there that day, and urge his suit to her father after dinner. She + would implore the old gentleman to listen to it favorably. + </p> + <p> + The lovers parted, and Christopher went home like one who has awakened + from a hideous dream to daylight and happiness. + </p> + <p> + He had not gone far before he met a dashing dogcart, driven by an + exquisite. He turned to look after it, and saw it drive up to Kent Villa. + </p> + <p> + In a moment he divined his rival, and a sickness of heart came over him. + But he recovered himself directly, and said, “If that is the fellow, she + will not receive him now.” + </p> + <p> + She did receive him though: at all events, the dogcart stood at the door, + and its master remained inside. + </p> + <p> + Christopher stood, and counted the minutes: five, ten, fifteen, twenty + minutes, and still the dogcart stood there. + </p> + <p> + It was more than he could bear. He turned savagely, and strode back to + Gravesend, resolving that all this torture should end that night, one way + or other. + </p> + <p> + Phoebe Dale was the daughter of a farmer in Essex, and one of the happiest + young women in England till she knew Reginald Falcon, Esq. + </p> + <p> + She was reared on wholesome food, in wholesome air, and used to churn + butter, make bread, cook a bit now and then, cut out and sew all her own + dresses, get up her own linen, make hay, ride anything on four legs; and, + for all that, was a great reader, and taught in the Sunday school to + oblige the vicar; wrote a neat hand, and was a good arithmetician, kept + all the house accounts and farm accounts. She was a musician, too,—not + profound, but very correct. She would take her turn at the harmonium in + church, and, when she was there, you never heard a wrong note in the bass, + nor an inappropriate flourish, nor bad time. She could sing, too, but + never would, except her part in a psalm. Her voice was a deep contralto, + and she chose to be ashamed of this heavenly organ, because a pack of + envious girls had giggled, and said it was like a man's. + </p> + <p> + In short, her natural ability and the range and variety of her useful + accomplishments were considerable; not that she was a prodigy; but she + belonged to a small class of women in this island who are not too high to + use their arms, nor too low to cultivate their minds; and, having a + faculty and a habit deplorably rare amongst her sex, viz., Attention, she + had profited by her miscellaneous advantages. + </p> + <p> + Her figure and face both told her breed at once: here was an old English + pastoral beauty; not the round-backed, narrow-chested cottager, but the + well-fed, erect rustic, with broad, full bust and massive shoulder, and + arm as hard as a rock with health and constant use; a hand finely cut, + though neither small nor very white, and just a little hard inside, + compared with Luxury's soft palm; a face honest, fair, and rather large + than small; not beautiful, but exceedingly comely; a complexion not pink + and white, but that delicately blended brickdusty color, which tints the + whole cheek in fine gradation, outlasts other complexions twenty years, + and beautifies the true Northern, even in old age. Gray, limpid, honest, + point-blank, searching eyes; hair true nut-brown, without a shade of red + or black; and a high, smooth forehead, full of sense. Across it ran one + deep wrinkle that did not belong to her youth. That wrinkle was the brand + of trouble, the line of agony. It had come of loving above her, yet below + her, and of loving an egotist. + </p> + <p> + Three years before our tale commenced, a gentleman's horse ran away with + him, and threw him on a heap of stones by the roadside, not very far from + Farmer Dale's gate. The farmer had him taken in. The doctor said he must + not be moved. He was insensible; his cheek like delicate wax; his fair + hair like silk stained with blood. He became Phoebe's patient, and, in due + course, her convalescent: his pale, handsome face and fascinating manners + gained one charm more from weakness; his vices were in abeyance. + </p> + <p> + The womanly nurse's heart yearned over her child; for he was feeble as a + child; and, when he got well enough to amuse his weary hours by making + love to her, and telling her a pack of arrant lies, she was a ready dupe. + He was to marry her as soon as ever his old uncle died, and left him the + means, etc., etc. At last he got well enough to leave her, and went away, + her open admirer and secret lover. He borrowed twenty pounds of her the + day he left. + </p> + <p> + He used to write her charming letters, and feed the flame; but one day her + father sent her up to London, on his own business, all of a sudden, and + she called on Mr. Falcon at his real address. She found he did not live + there—only received letters. However, half-a-crown soon bought his + real address, and thither Phoebe proceeded with a troubled heart, for she + suspected that her true lover was in debt or trouble, and obliged to hide. + Well, he must be got out of it, and hide at the farm meantime. + </p> + <p> + So the loving girl knocked at the door, asked for Mr. Falcon, and was + shown in to a lady rather showily dressed, who asked her business. + </p> + <p> + Phoebe Dale stared at her, and then turned pale as ashes. She was + paralyzed, and could not find her tongue. + </p> + <p> + “Why, what is the matter now?” said the other, sharply. + </p> + <p> + “Are you married to Reginald Falcon?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I am. Look at my wedding-ring.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I am not wanted here,” faltered Phoebe, ready to sink on the floor. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not, if you are one of the bygones,” said the woman, coarsely; + and Phoebe Dale waited to hear no more, but found her way, Heaven knows + how, into the street, and there leaned, half-fainting, on a rail, till a + policeman came, and told her she had been drinking, and suggested a cool + cell as the best cure. + </p> + <p> + “Not drink; only a breaking heart,” said she, in her low, mellow voice + that few could resist. + </p> + <p> + He got her a glass of water, drove away the boys that congregated + directly, and she left the street. But she soon came back again, and + waited about for Reginald Falcon. + </p> + <p> + It was night when he appeared. She seized him by the breast, and taxed him + with his villany. + </p> + <p> + What with her iron grasp, pale face, and flashing eyes, he lost his cool + impudence, and blurted out excuses. It was an old and unfortunate + connection; he would give the world to dissolve it, if he could do it like + a gentleman. + </p> + <p> + Phoebe told him to please himself: he must part with one or the other. + </p> + <p> + “Don't talk nonsense,” said this man of brass; “I'll un-Falcon her on the + spot.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said Phoebe. “I am going home; and, if you are not there by + to-morrow at noon”—She said no more, but looked a great deal. Then + she departed, and refused him her hand at parting. “We will see about that + by and by,” said she. + </p> + <p> + At noon my lord came down to the farm, and, unfortunately for Phoebe, + played the penitent so skilfully for about a month, that she forgave him, + and loved him all the more for having so nearly parted with him. + </p> + <p> + Her peace was not to endure long. He was detected in an intrigue in the + very village. + </p> + <p> + The insult struck so home that Phoebe herself, to her parents' + satisfaction, ordered him out of the house at once. + </p> + <p> + But, when he was gone, she had fits of weeping, and could settle to + nothing for a long time. + </p> + <p> + Months had elapsed, and she was getting a sort of dull tranquillity, when, + one evening, taking a walk she had often with him, and mourning her + solitude and wasted affection, he waylaid her, and clung to her knees, and + shed crocodile tears on her hands, and, after a long resistance, violent + at first, but fainter and fainter, got her in his power again, and that so + completely that she met him several times by night, being ashamed to be + seen with him in those parts by day. + </p> + <p> + This ended in fresh promises of marriage, and in a constant correspondence + by letter. This pest knew exactly how to talk to a woman, and how to write + to one. His letters fed the unhappy flame; and, mind you, he sometimes + deceived himself, and thought he loved her; but it was only himself he + loved. She was an invaluable lover; a faithful, disinterested friend; hers + was a vile bargain; his, an excellent one, and he clung to it. + </p> + <p> + And so they went on. She detected him in another infidelity, and + reproached him bitterly; but she had no longer the strength to break with + him. Nevertheless, this time she had the sense to make a struggle. She + implored him, on her very knees, to show her a little mercy in return for + all her love. “For pity's sake, leave me!” she cried. “You are strong, and + I am weak. You can end it forever, and pray do. You don't want me; you + don't value me: then, leave me, once and for all, and end this hell you + keep me in.” + </p> + <p> + No; he could not, or he would not, leave her alone. Look at a bird's + wings!—how like an angel's! Yet so vile a thing as a bit of birdlime + subdues them utterly; and such was the fascinating power of this mean man + over this worthy woman. She was a reader, a thinker, a model of + respectability, industry, and sense; a businesswoman, keen and practical; + could encounter sharp hands in sharp trades; could buy or sell hogs, + calves, or beasts with any farmer or butcher in the country, yet no match + for a cunning fool. She had enshrined an idol in her heart, and that heart + adored it, and clung to it, though the superior head saw through it, + dreaded it, despised it. + </p> + <p> + No wonder three years of this had drawn a tell-tale wrinkle across the + polished brow. + </p> + <p> + Phoebe Dale had not received a letter for some days; that roused her + suspicion and stung her jealousy; she came up to London by fast train, and + down to Gravesend directly. + </p> + <p> + She had a thick veil that concealed her features; and with a little + inquiring and bribing, she soon found out that Mr. Falcon was there with a + showy dogcart. “Ah!” thought Phoebe, “he has won a little money at play or + pigeon-shooting; so now he has no need of me.” + </p> + <p> + She took the lodgings opposite him, but observed nothing till this very + morning, when she saw him throw off his dressing-gown all in a hurry and + fling on his coat. She tied on her bonnet as rapidly, and followed him, + until she discovered the object of his pursuit. It was a surprise to her, + and a puzzle, to see another man step in, as if to take her part. But as + Reginald still followed the loitering pair, she followed Reginald, till he + turned and found her at his heels, white and lowering. + </p> + <p> + She confronted him in threatening silence for some time, during which he + prepared his defence. + </p> + <p> + “So it is a LADY this time,” said she, in her low, rich voice, sternly. + </p> + <p> + “Is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and I should say she is bespoke—that tall, fine-built + gentleman. But I suppose you care no more for his feelings than you do for + mine.” + </p> + <p> + “Phoebe,” said the egotist, “I will not try to deceive you. You have often + said you are my true friend.” + </p> + <p> + “And I think I have proved it.” + </p> + <p> + “That you have. Well, then, be my true friend now. I am in love—really + in love—this time. You and I only torment each other; let us part + friends. There are plenty of farmers in Essex that would jump at you. As + for me, I'll tell you the truth; I have run through every farthing; my + estate mortgaged beyond its value—two or three writs out against me—that + is why I slipped down here. My only chance is to marry Money. Her father + knows I have land, and he knows nothing about the mortgages; she is his + only daughter. Don't stand in my way, that is a good girl; be my friend, + as you always were. Hang it all, Phoebe, can't you say a word to a fellow + that is driven into a corner, instead of glaring at me like that? There! I + know it is ungrateful; but what can a fellow do? I must live like a + gentleman or else take a dose of prussic acid; you don't want to drive me + to that. Why, you proposed to part, last time, yourself.” + </p> + <p> + She gave him one majestic, indescribable look, that made even his callous + heart quiver, and turned away. + </p> + <p> + Then the scamp admired her for despising him, and could not bear to lose + her. He followed her, and put forth all those powers of persuading and + soothing, which had so often proved irresistible. But this time it was in + vain. The insult was too savage, and his egotism too brutal, for honeyed + phrases to blind her. + </p> + <p> + After enduring it a long time with a silent shudder, she turned and shook + him fiercely off her like some poisonous reptile. + </p> + <p> + “Do you want me to kill you? I'd liever kill myself for loving such a + thing as THOU. Go thy ways, man, and let me go mine.” In her passion she + dropped her cultivation for once, and went back to the THOU and THEE of + her grandam. + </p> + <p> + He colored up and looked spiteful enough; but he soon recovered his + cynical egotism, and went off whistling an operatic passage. + </p> + <p> + She crept to her lodgings, and buried her face in her pillow, and rocked + herself to and fro for hours in the bitterest agony the heart can feel, + groaning over her great affection wasted, flung into the dirt. + </p> + <p> + While she was thus, she heard a little commotion. She came to the window + and saw Falcon, exquisitely dressed, drive off in his dogcart, attended by + the acclamations of eight boys. She saw at a glance he was gone courting; + her knees gave way under her, and, such is the power of the mind, this + stalwart girl lay weak as water on the sofa, and had not the power to go + home, though just then she had but one wish, one hope—to see her + idol's face no more, nor hear his wheedling tongue, that had ruined her + peace. + </p> + <p> + The exquisite Mr. Falcon was received by Rosa Lusignan with a certain + tremor that flattered his hopes. He told her, in charming language, how he + had admired her at first sight, then esteemed her, then loved her. + </p> + <p> + She blushed and panted, and showed more than once a desire to interrupt + him, but was too polite. She heard him out with rising dismay, and he + offered her his hand and heart. + </p> + <p> + But by this time she had made up her mind what to say. “O Mr. Falcon!” she + cried, “how can you speak to me in this way? Why, I am engaged. Didn't you + know?” + </p> + <p> + “No; I am sure you are not, or you would never have given me the + encouragement you have.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, all engaged young ladies flirt—a little; and everybody here + knows I am engaged to Dr. Staines.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I never saw him here.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa's tact was a quality that came and went; so she blushed, and faltered + out, “We had a little tiff, as lovers will.” + </p> + <p> + “And you did me the honor to select me as cat's-paw to bring him on again. + Was not that rather heartless?” + </p> + <p> + Rosa's fitful tact returned to her. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sir, do not think so ill of me. I am not heartless, I am only unwise; + and you are so superior to the people about you; I could not help + appreciating you, and I thought you knew I was engaged, and so I was less + on my guard. I hope I shall not lose your esteem, though I have no right + to anything more. Ah! I see by your face I have behaved very ill: pray + forgive me.” + </p> + <p> + And with this she turned on the waters of the Nile, better known to you, + perhaps, as “crocodile tears.” + </p> + <p> + Falcon was a gentleman on the surface, and knew he should only make + matters worse by quarrelling with her. So he ground his teeth, and said, + “May your own heart never feel the pangs you have inflicted. I shall love + you and remember you till my dying day.” + </p> + <p> + He bowed ceremoniously and left her. + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” said he to himself, “I WILL remember you, you heartless jilt, and + the man you have jilted me for. Staines is his d—d name, is it?” + </p> + <p> + He drove back crestfallen, bitter, and, for once in his life, heart-sick, + and drew up at his lodgings. Here he found attendants waiting to receive + him. + </p> + <p> + A sheriff's officer took his dogcart and horse under a judgment; the + disturbance this caused collected a tiny crowd, gaping and grinning, and + brought Phoebe's white face and eyes swollen with weeping to the window. + </p> + <p> + Falcon saw her and brazened it out. “Take them,” said he, with an oath. + “I'll have a better turn-out by to-morrow, breakfast-time.” + </p> + <p> + The crowd cheered him for his spirit. + </p> + <p> + He got down, lit a cigar, chaffed the officer and the crowd, and was, on + the whole, admired. + </p> + <p> + Then another officer, who had been hunting him in couples with the other, + stepped forward and took HIM, for the balance of a judgment debt. + </p> + <p> + Then the swell's cigar fell out of his mouth, and he was seriously + alarmed. “Why, Cartwright,” said he, “this is too bad. You promised not to + see me this month. You passed me full in the Strand.” + </p> + <p> + “You are mistaken, sir,” said Cartwright, with sullen irony. “I've got a + twin-brother; a many takes him for me, till they finds the difference.” + Then, lowering his voice, “What call had you to boast in your club you had + made it right with Bill Cartwright, and he'd never see you? That got + about, and so I was bound to see you or lose my bread. There's one or two + I don't see, but then they are real gentlemen, and thinks of me as well as + theirselves, and doesn't blab.” + </p> + <p> + “I must have been drunk,” said Falcon apologetically. “More likely blowing + a cloud. When you young gents gets a-smoking together, you'd tell on your + own mothers. Come along, colonel, off we go to Merrimashee.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, it is only twenty-six pounds. I have paid the rest.” + </p> + <p> + “More than that; there's the costs.” + </p> + <p> + “Come in, and I'll settle it.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, sir. Jem, watch the back.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I shall not try that game with a sharp hand like you, Cartwright.” + </p> + <p> + “You had better not, sir,” said Cartwright; but he was softened a little + by the compliment. + </p> + <p> + When they were alone, Falcon began by saying it was a bad job for him. + </p> + <p> + “Why, I thought you was a-going to pay it all in a moment.” + </p> + <p> + “I can't; but I have got a friend over the way that could, if she chose. + She has always got money, somehow.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, if it is a she, it is all right.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. She has quarrelled with me; but give me a little time. + Here! have a glass of sherry and a biscuit, while I try it on.” + </p> + <p> + Having thus muffled Cartwright, this man of the world opened his window + and looked out. The crowd had followed the captured dogcart, so he had the + street to himself. He beckoned to Phoebe, and after considerable + hesitation she opened her window. + </p> + <p> + “Phoebe,” said he, in tones of tender regret, admirably natural and sweet, + “I shall never offend you again; so forgive me this once. I have given + that girl up.” + </p> + <p> + “Not you,” said Phoebe, sullenly. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed I have. After our quarrel, I started to propose to her; but I had + not the heart; I came back and left her.” + </p> + <p> + “Time will show. If it is not her, it will be some other, you false, + heartless villain.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, I say, don't be so hard on me in trouble. I am going to prison.” + </p> + <p> + “So I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! but it is worse than you think. I am only taken for a paltry thirty + pounds or so.” + </p> + <p> + “Thirty-three, fifteen, five,” suggested Cartwright, in a muffled whisper, + his mouth being full of biscuit. + </p> + <p> + “But once they get me to a sponging-house, detainers will pour in, and my + cruel creditors will confine me for life.” + </p> + <p> + “It is the best place for you. It will put a stop to your wickedness, and + I shall be at peace. That's what I have never known, night or day, this + three years.” + </p> + <p> + “But you will not be happy if you see me go to prison before your eyes. + Were you ever inside a prison? Just think what it must be to be cooped up + in those cold grim cells all alone; for they use a debtor like a criminal + now.” + </p> + <p> + Phoebe shuddered; but she said, bravely, “Well, tell THEM you have been + a-courting. There was a time I'd have died sooner than see a hair of your + head hurt; but it is all over now; you have worn me out.” + </p> + <p> + Then she began to cry. + </p> + <p> + Falcon heaved a deep sigh. “It is no more than I deserve,” said he. “I'll + pack up my things, and go with the officer. Give me one kind word at + parting, and I'll think of it in my prison, night and day.” + </p> + <p> + He withdrew from the window with another deep sigh, told Cartwright, + cheerfully, it was all right, and proceeded to pack up his traps. + </p> + <p> + Meantime Phoebe sat at her window and cried bitterly. Her words had been + braver than her heart. + </p> + <p> + Falcon managed to pay the trifle he owed for the lodgings, and presently + he came out with Cartwright, and the attendant called a cab. His things + were thrown in, and Cartwright invited him to follow. Then he looked up, + and cast a genuine look of terror and misery at Phoebe. He thought she + would have relented before this. + </p> + <p> + Her heart gave way; I am afraid it would, even without that piteous and + mute appeal. She opened the window, and asked Mr. Cartwright if he would + be good enough to come and speak to her. + </p> + <p> + Cartwright committed his prisoner to the subordinate, and knocked at the + door of Phoebe's lodgings. She came down herself and let him in. She led + the way upstairs, motioned him to a seat, sat down by him, and began to + cry again. She was thoroughly unstrung. + </p> + <p> + Cartwright was human, and muttered some words of regret that a poor fellow + must do his duty. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it is not that,” sobbed Phoebe. “I can find the money. I have found + more for him than that, many's the time.” Then, drying her eyes, “But you + must know the world, and I dare say you can see how 'tis with me.” + </p> + <p> + “I can,” said Cartwright, gravely. “I overheard you and him; and, my girl, + if you take my advice, why, let him go. He is a gentleman skin deep, and + dresses well, and can palaver a girl, no doubt; but bless your heart, I + can see at a glance he is not worth your little finger, an honest, decent + young woman like you. Why, it is like butter fighting with stone. Let him + go; or I will tell you what it is, you will hang for him some day, or else + make away with yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, sir,” said Phoebe, “that's likelier; and if I was to let him go to + prison, I should sit me down and think of his parting look, and I should + fling myself into the water for him before I was a day older.” + </p> + <p> + “Ye mustn't do that anyway. While there's life there's hope.” + </p> + <p> + Upon this Phoebe put him a question, and found him ready to do anything + for her, in reason—provided he was paid for it. And the end of it + all was, the prisoner was conveyed to London; Phoebe got the requisite + sum; Falcon was deposited in a third-class carriage bound for Essex. + Phoebe paid his debt, and gave Cartwright a present, and away rattled the + train conveying the handsome egotist into temporary retirement, to wit, at + a village five miles from the Dales' farm. She was too ashamed of her + young gentleman and herself to be seen with him in her native village. On + the road down he was full of little practical attentions; she received + them coldly; his mellifluous mouth was often at her car, pouring thanks + and praises into it; she never vouchsafed a word of reply. All she did was + to shudder now and then, and cry at intervals. Yet, whenever he left her + side, her whole body became restless; and when he came back to her, a + furtive thrill announced the insane complacency his bare contact gave her. + Surely, of all the forms in which love torments the heart, this was the + most terrible and pitiable. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Lusignan found his daughter in tears. + </p> + <p> + “Why, what is the matter now?” said he, a little peevishly. “We have had + nothing of this sort of thing lately.” + </p> + <p> + “Papa, it is because I have misconducted myself. I am a foolish, imprudent + girl. I have been flirting with Mr. Falcon, and he has taken a CRUEL + advantage of it—proposed to me—this very afternoon—actually!” + </p> + <p> + “Has he? Well, he is a fine fellow, and has a landed estate in Norfolk. + There's nothing like land. They may well call it real property—there + is something to show; you can walk on it, and ride on it, and look out of + window at it: that IS property.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, papa! what are you saying? Would you have me marry one man when I + belong to another?” + </p> + <p> + “But you don't belong to any one except to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes; I do. I belong to my dear Christopher.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, you dismissed him before my very eyes; and very ill you behaved, + begging your pardon. The man was your able physician and your best friend, + and said nothing that was not for your good; and you treated him like a + dog.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but he has apologized.” + </p> + <p> + “What for? being treated like a dog?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don't say so, papa! At all events, he has apologized, as a gentleman + should whenever—whenever”— + </p> + <p> + “Whenever a lady is in the wrong.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't, papa; and I have asked him to dinner.” + </p> + <p> + “With all my heart. I shall be downright glad to see him again. You used + him abominably.” + </p> + <p> + “But you need not keep saying so,” whined Rosa. “And that is not all, dear + papa; the worst of it is, Mr. Falcon proposing to me has opened my eyes. I + am not fit to be trusted alone. I am too fond of dancing, and flirting + will follow somehow. Oh, think how ill I was a few months ago, and how + unhappy you were about me! They were killing me. He came and saved me. + Yes, papa, I owe all this health and strength to Christopher. I did take + them off, the very next day, and see the effect of it and my long walks. I + owe him my life, and what I value far more, my good looks. La! I wish I + had not told you that. And after all this, don't I belong to my + Christopher? How could I be happy or respect myself if I married any one + else? And oh, papa! he looks wan and worn. He has been fretting for his + Simpleton. Oh, dear! I mustn't think of that—it makes me cry; and + you don't like scenes, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “Hate 'em!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then,” said Rosa, coaxingly, “I'll tell you how to end them. Marry + your Simpleton to the only man who is fit to take care of her. Oh, papa! + think of his deep, deep affection for me, and pray don't snub him if—by + any chance—after dinner—he should HAPPEN to ask you—something.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, then it is possible that, by the merest chance, the gentleman you + have accidentally asked to dinner, may, by some strange fortuity, be + surprised into asking me a second time for something very much resembling + my daughter's hand—eh?” + </p> + <p> + Rosa colored high. “He might, you know. How can I tell what gentlemen will + say when the ladies have retired and they are left alone with—with”— + </p> + <p> + “With the bottle. Ay, that's true; when the wine is in, the wit is out.” + </p> + <p> + Said Rosa, “Well, if he should happen to be so foolish, pray think of ME; + of all we owe him, and how much I love him, and ought to love him.” She + then bestowed a propitiatory kiss, and ran off to dress for dinner; it was + a much longer operation to-day than usual. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Staines was punctual. Mr. Lusignan commented favorably on that. + </p> + <p> + “He always is,” said Rosa, eagerly. + </p> + <p> + They dined together. Mr. Lusignan chatted freely, but Staines and Rosa + were under a feeling of restraint, Staines in particular; he could not + help feeling that before long his fate must be settled. He would either + obtain Rosa's hand, or have to resign her to some man of fortune who would + step in; for beauty such as hers could not long lack brilliant offers. + Longing, though dreading, to know his fate, he was glad when dinner ended. + </p> + <p> + Rosa sat with them a little while after dinner, then rose, bestowed + another propitiatory kiss on her father's head, and retired with a modest + blush, and a look at Christopher that was almost divine. + </p> + <p> + It inspired him with the courage of lions, and he commenced the attack at + once. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. + </h2> + <p> + “Mr. Lusignan,” said he, “the last time I was here you gave me some hopes + that you might be prevailed on to trust that angel's health and happiness + to my care.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Dr. Staines, I will not beat about the bush with you. My judgment + is still against this marriage; you need not look so alarmed; it does not + follow I shall forbid it. I feel I have hardly a right to, for my Rosa + might be in her grave now but for you; and, another thing, when I + interfered between you two I had no proof you were a man of ability; I had + only your sweetheart's word for that; and I never knew a case before where + a young lady's swan did not turn out a goose. Your rare ability gives you + another chance in the professional battle that is before you; indeed, it + puts a different face on the whole matter. I still think it premature. + Come now, would it not be much wiser to wait, and secure a good practice + before you marry a mere child? There! there! I only advise; I don't + dictate; you shall settle it together, you two wiseacres. Only I must make + one positive condition. I have nothing to give my child during my + lifetime; but one thing I have done for her; years ago I insured my life + for six thousand pounds; and you must do the same. I will not have her + thrown on the world a widow, with a child or two, perhaps, to support, and + not a farthing; you know the insecurity of mortal life.” + </p> + <p> + “I do! I do! Why, of course I will insure my life, and pay the annual + premium out of my little capital, until income flows in.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you hand me over a sum sufficient to pay that premium for five + years?” + </p> + <p> + “With pleasure.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I fear,” said the old gentleman, with a sigh, “my opposition to the + match must cease here. I still recommend you to wait; but—there! I + might just as well advise fire and tow to live neighbors and keep cool.” + </p> + <p> + To show the injustice of this simile, Christopher Staines started up with + his eyes all aglow, and cried out, rapturously, “Oh, sir, may I tell her?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you may tell her,” said Lusignan, with a smile. “Stop—what are + you going to tell her?” + </p> + <p> + “That you consent, sir. God bless you! God bless you! Oh!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but that I advise you to wait.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll tell her all,” said Staines, and rushed out even as he spoke, and + upset a heavy chair with a loud thud. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! ah!” cried the old gentleman in dismay, and put his fingers in his + ears—too late. “I see,” said he, “there will be no peace and quiet + now till they are out of the house.” He lighted a soothing cigar to + counteract the fracas. + </p> + <p> + “Poor little Rosa! a child but yesterday, and now to encounter the cares + of a wife, and perhaps a mother. Ah! she is but young, but young.” + </p> + <p> + The old gentleman prophesied truly; from that moment he had no peace till + he withdrew all semblance of dissent, and even of procrastination. + </p> + <p> + Christopher insured his life for six thousand pounds, and assigned the + policy to his wife. Four hundred pounds was handed to Mr. Lusignan to pay + the premiums until the genius of Dr. Staines should have secured him that + large professional income, which does not come all at once, even to the + rare physician, who is Capax, Efficax, Sagax. + </p> + <p> + The wedding-day was named. The bridesmaids were selected, the guests + invited. None refused but Uncle Philip. He declined, in his fine bold + hand, to countenance in person an act of folly he disapproved. Christopher + put his letter away with a momentary sigh, and would not show it Rosa. All + other letters they read together, charming pastime of that happy period. + Presents poured in. Silver teapots, coffeepots, sugar-basins, cream-jugs, + fruit-dishes, silver-gilt inkstands, albums, photograph-books, little + candlesticks, choice little services of china, shell salt-cellars in a + case lined with maroon velvet; a Bible, superb in binding and clasps, and + everything but the text—that was illegible; a silk scarf from + Benares; a gold chain from Delhi, six feet long or nearly; a Maltese + necklace, a ditto in exquisite filagree from Genoa; English brooches, a + trifle too big and brainless; apostle spoons; a treble-lined parasol with + ivory stick and handle; an ivory card-case, richly carved; workbox of + sandal-wood and ivory, etc. Mr. Lusignan's City friends, as usual with + these gentlemen, sent the most valuable things. Every day one or two + packages were delivered, and, in opening them, Rosa invariably uttered a + peculiar scream of delight, and her father put his fingers in his ears; + yet there was music in this very scream, if he would only have listened to + it candidly, instead of fixing his mind on his vague theory of screams—so + formed was she to please the ear as well as the eye. + </p> + <p> + At last came a parcel she opened and stared at, smiling and coloring like + a rose, but did not scream, being too dumfounded and perplexed; for lo! a + teapot of some base material, but simple and elegant in form, being an + exact reproduction of a melon; and inside this teapot a canvas bag + containing ten guineas in silver, and a wash-leather bag containing twenty + guineas in gold, and a slip of paper, which Rosa, being now half recovered + from her stupefaction, read out to her father and Dr. Staines: + </p> + <p> + “People that buy presents blindfold give duplicates and triplicates; and + men seldom choose to a woman's taste; so be pleased to accept the enclosed + tea-leaves, and buy for yourself. The teapot you can put on the hob, for + it is nickel.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa looked sore puzzled again. “Papa,” said she, timidly, “have we any + friend that is—a little—deranged?” + </p> + <p> + “A lot.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, then, that accounts.” + </p> + <p> + “Why no, love,” said Christopher. “I have heard of much learning making a + man mad, but never of much good sense.” + </p> + <p> + “What! Do you call this sensible?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you?” + </p> + <p> + “I'll read it again,” said Rosa. “Well—yes—I declare—it + is not so mad as I thought; but it is very eccentric.” + </p> + <p> + Lusignan suggested there was nothing so eccentric as common sense, + especially in time of wedding. “This,” said he, “comes from the City. It + is a friend of mine, some old fox; he is throwing dust in your eyes with + his reasons; his real reason was that his time is money; it would have + cost the old rogue a hundred pounds' worth of time—you know the + City, Christopher—to go out and choose the girl a present; so he has + sent his clerk out with a check to buy a pewter teapot, and fill it with + specie.” + </p> + <p> + “Pewter!” cried Rosa. “No such thing! It's nickel. What is nickel, I + wonder?” + </p> + <p> + The handwriting afforded no clew, so there the discussion ended: but it + was a nice little mystery, and very convenient; made conversation. Rosa + had many an animated discussion about it with her female friends. + </p> + <p> + The wedding-day came at last. The sun shone—ACTUALLY, as Rosa + observed. The carriages drove up. The bridesmaids, principally old + schoolfellows and impassioned correspondents of Rosa, were pretty, and + dressed alike and delightfully; but the bride was peerless; her Southern + beauty literally shone in that white satin dress and veil, and her head + was regal with the Crown of orange-blossoms. Another crown she had—true + virgin modesty. A low murmur burst from the men the moment they saw her; + the old women forgave her beauty on the spot, and the young women almost + pardoned it; she was so sweet and womanly, and so sisterly to her own sex. + </p> + <p> + When they started for the church she began to tremble, she scarce knew + why; and when the solemn words were said, and the ring was put on her + finger, she cried a little, and looked half imploringly at her bridesmaids + once, as if seared at leaving them for an untried and mysterious life with + no woman near. + </p> + <p> + They were married. Then came the breakfast, that hour of uneasiness and + blushing to such a bride as this; but at last she was released. She sped + up-stairs, thanking goodness it was over. Down came her last box. The + bride followed in a plain travelling dress, which her glorious eyes and + brows and her rich glowing cheeks seemed to illumine: she was handed into + the carriage, the bridegroom followed. All the young guests clustered + about the door, armed with white shoes—slippers are gone by. + </p> + <p> + They started; the ladies flung their white shoes right and left with + religious impartiality, except that not one of their missiles went at the + object. The men, more skilful, sent a shower on to the roof of the + carriage, which is the lucky spot. The bride kissed her hand, and managed + to put off crying, though it cost her a struggle. The party hurrahed; + enthusiastic youths gathered fallen shoes, and ran and hurled them again + with cheerful yells, and away went the happy pair, the bride leaning + sweetly and confidingly with both her white hands on the bridegroom's + shoulder, while he dried the tears that would run now at leaving home and + parent forever, and kissed her often, and encircled her with his strong + arm, and murmured comfort, and love, and pride, and joy, and sweet vows of + lifelong tenderness into her ears, that soon stole nearer his lips to + hear, and the fair cheek grew softly to his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. + </h2> + <p> + Dr. Staines and Mrs. Staines visited France, Switzerland, and the Rhine, + and passed a month of Elysium before they came to London to face their + real destiny and fight the battle of life. + </p> + <p> + And here, methinks, a reader of novels may perhaps cry out and say, “What + manner of man is this, who marries his hero and heroine, and then, instead + of leaving them happy for life, and at rest from his uneasy pen and all + their other troubles, flows coolly on with their adventures?” + </p> + <p> + To this I can only reply that the old English novel is no rule to me, and + life is; and I respectfully propose an experiment. Catch eight old married + people, four of each sex, and say unto them, “Sir,” or “Madam, did the + more remarkable events of your life come to you before marriage or after?” + Most of them will say “after,” and let that be my excuse for treating the + marriage of Christopher Staines and Rosa Lusignan as merely one incident + in their lives; an incident which, so far from ending their story, led by + degrees to more striking events than any that occurred to them before they + were man and wife. + </p> + <p> + They returned, then, from their honey tour, and Staines, who was + methodical and kept a diary, made the following entry therein:— + </p> + <p> + “We have now a life of endurance, and self-denial, and economy, before us; + we have to rent a house, and furnish it, and live in it, until + professional income shall flow in and make all things easy: and we have + two thousand five hundred pounds left to do it with.” + </p> + <p> + They came to a family hotel, and Dr. Staines went out directly after + breakfast to look for a house. Acting on a friend's advice, he visited the + streets and places north of Oxford Street, looking for a good commodious + house adapted to his business. He found three or four at fair rents, + neither cheap nor dear, the district being respectable and rather wealthy, + but no longer fashionable. He came home with his notes, and found Rosa + beaming in a crisp peignoir, and her lovely head its natural size and + shape, high-bred and elegant. He sat down, and with her hand in his + proceeded to describe the houses to her, when a waiter threw open the door—“Mrs. + John Cole.” + </p> + <p> + “Florence!” cried Rosa, starting up. + </p> + <p> + In flowed Florence: they both uttered a little squawk of delight, and went + at each other like two little tigresses, and kissed in swift alternation + with a singular ardor, drawing their crests back like snakes, and then + darting them forward and inflicting what, to the male philosopher looking + on, seemed hard kisses, violent kisses, rather than the tender ones to be + expected from two tender creatures embracing each other. + </p> + <p> + “Darling,” said Rosa, “I knew you would be the first. Didn't I tell you + so, Christopher?—My husband—my darling Florry! Sit down, love, + and tell me everything; he has just been looking out for a house. Ah! you + have got all that over long ago: she has been married six months. Florry, + you are handsomer than ever; and what a beautiful dress! Ah! London is the + place. Real Brussels, I declare,” and she took hold of her friend's lace + and gloated on it. + </p> + <p> + Christopher smiled good-naturedly, and said, “I dare say you ladies have a + good deal to say to each other.” + </p> + <p> + “Oceans,” said Rosa. + </p> + <p> + “I will go and hunt houses again.” + </p> + <p> + “There's a good husband,” said Mrs. Cole, as soon as the door closed on + him, “and such a fine man! Why, he must be six feet. Mine is rather short. + But he is very good; refuses me nothing. My will is law.” + </p> + <p> + “That is all right—you are so sensible; but I want governing a + little, and I like it—actually. Did the dressmaker find it, dear?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no! I had it by me. I bought it at Brussels on our wedding tour: it + is dearer there than in London.” + </p> + <p> + She said this as if “dearer” and “better” were synonymous. + </p> + <p> + “But about your house, Rosie dear?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, darling, I'll tell you all about it. I never saw a moire this shade + before. I don't care for them in general; but this is so distingue.” + </p> + <p> + Florence rewarded her with a kiss. + </p> + <p> + “The house,” said Rosa. “Oh, he has seen one in Portman Street, and one in + Gloucester Place.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that will never do,” cried Mrs. Cole. “It is no use being a physician + in those out-of-the-way places. He must be in Mayfair.” + </p> + <p> + “Must he?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course. Besides, then my Johnnie can call him in when they are just + going to die. Johnnie is a general prac., and makes two thousand a year; + and he shall call your one in; but he must live in Mayfair. Why, Rosie, + you would not be such a goose as to live in those places—they are + quite gone by.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall do whatever you advise me, dear. Oh, what a comfort to have a + dear friend: and six months married, and knows things. How richly it is + trimmed! Why, it is nearly all trimmings.” + </p> + <p> + “That is the fashion.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” + </p> + <p> + And after that big word there was no more to be said. + </p> + <p> + These two ladies in their conversation gravitated towards dress, and fell + flat on it every half-minute. That great and elevating topic held them by + a silken cord, but it allowed them to flutter upwards into other topics; + and in those intervals, numerous though brief, the lady who had been + married six months found time to instruct the matrimonial novice with + great authority, and even a shade of pomposity. “My dear, the way ladies + and gentlemen get a house—in the first place, you don't go about + yourself like that, and you never go to the people themselves, or you are + sure to be taken in, but to a respectable house-agent.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, dear, that must be the best way, one would think.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course it is; and you ask for a house in Mayfair, and he shows you + several, and recommends you the best, and sees you are not cheated.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, love,” said Rosa; “now I know what to do; I'll not forget a + word. And the train so beautifully shaped! Ah! it is only in London or + Paris they can make a dress flow behind like that,” etc., etc. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Staines came back to dinner in good spirits; he had found a house in + Harewood Square; good entrance hall, where his gratuitous patients might + sit on benches; good dining-room where his superior patients might wait; + and good library, to be used as a consulting-room. Rent only eighty-five + pounds per annum. + </p> + <p> + But Rosa told him that would never do; a physician must be in the + fashionable part of the town. + </p> + <p> + “Eventually,” said Christopher; “but surely at first starting—and + you know they say little boats should not go too far from shore.” + </p> + <p> + Then Rosa repeated all her friend's arguments, and seemed so unhappy at + the idea of not living near her, that Staines, who had not yet said the + hard word “no” to her, gave in; consoling his prudence with the reflection + that, after all, Mr. Cole could put many a guinea in his way, for Mr. Cole + was middle-aged,—though his wife was young,—and had really a + very large practice. + </p> + <p> + So next day, the newly-wedded pair called on a house-agent in Mayfair, and + his son and partner went with them to several places. The rents of houses + equal to that in Harewood Square were three hundred pounds a year at + least, and a premium to boot. + </p> + <p> + Christopher told him these were quite beyond the mark. “Very well,” said + the agent. “Then I'll show you a Bijou.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa clapped her hands. “That is the thing for us. We don't want a large + house, only a beautiful one, and in Mayfair.” + </p> + <p> + “Then the Bijou will be sure to suit you.” + </p> + <p> + He took them to the Bijou. + </p> + <p> + The Bijou had a small dining-room with one very large window in two sheets + of plate glass, and a projecting balcony full of flowers; a still smaller + library, which opened on a square yard enclosed. Here were a great many + pots, with flowers dead or dying from neglect. On the first floor a + fair-sized drawing-room, and a tiny one at the back: on the second floor, + one good bedroom, and a dressing-room, or little bedroom: three garrets + above. + </p> + <p> + Rosa was in ecstasies. “It is a nest,” said she. + </p> + <p> + “It is a bank-note,” said the agent, stimulating equal enthusiasm, after + his fashion. “You can always sell the lease again for more money.” + </p> + <p> + Christopher kept cool. “I don't want a house to sell, but to live in, and + do my business; I am a physician: now the drawing-room is built over the + entrance to a mews; the back rooms all look into a mews: we shall have the + eternal noise and smell of a mews. My wife's rest will be broken by the + carriages rolling in and out. The hall is fearfully small and stuffy. The + rent is abominably high; and what is the premium for, I wonder?” + </p> + <p> + “Always a premium in Mayfair, sir. A lease is property here: the gentleman + is not acquainted with this part, madam.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, he is,” said Rosa, as boldly as a six years' wife: “he knows + everything.” + </p> + <p> + “Then he knows that a house of this kind at a hundred and thirty pounds a + year in Mayfair is a bank-note.” + </p> + <p> + Staines turned to Rosa. “The poor patients, where am I to receive them?” + </p> + <p> + “In the stable,” suggested the house agent. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Rosa, shocked. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, the coach-house. Why, there's plenty of room for a brougham, + and one horse, and fifty poor patients at a time: beggars musn't be + choosers; if you give them physic gratis, that is enough: you ain't bound + to find 'em a palace to sit down in, and hot coffee and rump steaks all + round, doctor.” + </p> + <p> + This tickled Rosa so that she burst out laughing, and thenceforward + giggled at intervals, wit of this refined nature having all the charm of + novelty for her. + </p> + <p> + They inspected the stables, which were indeed the one redeeming feature in + the horrid little Bijou; and then the agent would show them the kitchen, + and the new stove. He expatiated on this to Mrs. Staines. “Cook a dinner + for thirty people, madam.” + </p> + <p> + “And there's room for them to eat it—in the road,” said Staines. + </p> + <p> + The agent reminded him there were larger places to be had, by a very + simple process, viz., paying for them. + </p> + <p> + Staines thought of the large, comfortable house in Harewood Square. “One + hundred and thirty pounds a year for this poky little hole?” he groaned. + </p> + <p> + “Why, it is nothing at all for a Bijou.” + </p> + <p> + “But it is too much for a bandbox.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa laid her hand on his arm, with an imploring glance. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said he, “I'll submit to the rent, but I really cannot give the + premium, it is too ridiculous. He ought to bribe me to rent it, not I + him.” + </p> + <p> + “Can't be done without, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'll give a hundred pounds and no more.” + </p> + <p> + “Impossible, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Then good morning. Now, dearest, just come and see the house at Harewood + Square,—eighty-five pounds and no premium.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you oblige me with your address, doctor?” said the agent. + </p> + <p> + “Dr. Staines, Morley's Hotel.” + </p> + <p> + And so they left Mayfair. + </p> + <p> + Rosa sighed and said, “Oh, the nice little place; and we have lost it for + two hundred pounds.” + </p> + <p> + “Two hundred pounds is a great deal for us to throw away.” + </p> + <p> + “Being near the Coles would soon have made that up to you: and such a + cosey little nest.” + </p> + <p> + “Well the house will not run away.” + </p> + <p> + “But somebody is sure to snap it up. It is a Bijou.” She was disappointed, + and half inclined to pout. But she vented her feelings in a letter to her + beloved Florry, and appeared at dinner as sweet as usual. + </p> + <p> + During dinner a note came from the agent, accepting Dr. Staine's offer. He + glozed the matter thus: he had persuaded the owner it was better to take a + good tenant at a moderate loss, than to let the Bijou be uninhabited + during the present rainy season. An assignment of the lease—which + contained the usual covenants—would be prepared immediately, and Dr. + Staines could have possession in forty-eight hours, by paying the premium. + </p> + <p> + Rosa was delighted, and as soon as dinner was over, and the waiters gone, + she came and kissed Christopher. + </p> + <p> + He smiled, and said, “Well, you are pleased; that is the principal thing. + I have saved two hundred pounds, and that is something. It will go towards + furnishing.” + </p> + <p> + “La! yes,” said Rosa, “I forgot. We shall have to get furniture now. How + nice!” It was a pleasure the man of forecast could have willingly + dispensed with; but he smiled at her, and they discussed furniture, and + Christopher, whose retentive memory had picked up a little of everything, + said there were wholesale upholsterers in the City who sold cheaper than + the West-end houses, and he thought the best way was to measure the rooms + in the Bijou, and go to the city with a clear idea of what they wanted; + ask the prices of various necessary articles, and then make a list, and + demand a discount of fifteen per cent on the whole order, being so + considerable, and paid for in cash. + </p> + <p> + Rosa acquiesced, and told Christopher he was the cleverest man in England. + </p> + <p> + About nine o'clock Mrs. Cole came in to condole with her friend, and heard + the good news. When Rosa told her how they thought of furnishing, she + said, “Oh no, you must not do that; you will pay double for everything. + That is the mistake Johnnie and I made; and after that a friend of mine + took me to the auction-rooms, and I saw everything sold—oh, such + bargains; half, and less than half, their value. She has furnished her + house almost entirely from sales, and she has the loveliest things in the + world—such ducks of tables, and jardinieres, and things; and + beautiful rare china—her house swarms with it—for an old song. + A sale is the place. And then so amusing.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but,” said Christopher, “I should not like my wife to encounter a + public room.” + </p> + <p> + “Not alone, of course; but with me. La! Dr. Staines, they are too full of + buying and selling to trouble their heads about us.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Christopher, do let me go with her. Am I always to be a child?” + </p> + <p> + Thus appealed to before a stranger, Staines replied warmly, “No, dearest, + no; you cannot please me better than by beginning life in earnest. If you + two ladies together can face an auction-room, go by all means; only I must + ask you not to buy china or ormulu, or anything that will break or spoil, + but only solid, good furniture.” + </p> + <p> + “Won't you come with us?” + </p> + <p> + “No; or you might feel yourself in leading-strings. Remember the Bijou is + a small house; choose your furniture to fit it, and then we shall save + something by its being so small.” + </p> + <p> + This was Wednesday. There was a weekly sale in Oxford Street on Fridays; + and the ladies made the appointment accordingly. + </p> + <p> + Next day, after breakfast, Christopher was silent and thoughtful awhile, + and at last said to Rosa, “I'll show you I don't look on you as a child; + I'll consult you in a delicate matter.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa's eyes sparkled. + </p> + <p> + “It is about my Uncle Philip. He has been very cruel; he has wounded me + deeply; he has wounded me through my wife. I never thought he would refuse + to come to our marriage.” + </p> + <p> + “And did he? You never showed me his letter.” + </p> + <p> + “You were not my wife then. I kept an affront from you; but now, you see, + I keep nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear Christie!” + </p> + <p> + “I am so happy, I have got over that sting—almost; and the memory of + many kind acts comes back to me; and I don't know what to do. It seems + ungrateful not to visit him—it seems almost mean to call.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll tell you; take me to see him directly. He won't hate us forever, if + he sees us often. We may as well begin at once. Nobody hates me long.” + </p> + <p> + Christopher was proud of his wife's courage and wisdom. He kissed her, + begged her to put on the plainest dress she could, and they went together + to call on Uncle Philip. + </p> + <p> + When they got to his house in Gloucester Place, Portman Square, Rosa's + heart began to quake, and she was right glad when the servant said “Not at + home.” + </p> + <p> + They left their cards and address; and she persuaded Christopher to take + her to the sale-room to see the things. + </p> + <p> + A lot of brokers were there, like vultures; and one after another stepped + forward and pestered them to employ him in the morning. Dr. Staines + declined their services civilly but firmly, and he and Rosa looked over a + quantity of furniture, and settled what sort of things to buy. + </p> + <p> + Another broker came up, and whenever the couple stopped before an article, + proceeded to praise it as something most extraordinary. Staines listened + in cold, satirical silence, and told his wife, in French, to do the same. + Notwithstanding their marked disgust, the impudent, intrusive fellow stuck + to them, and forced his venal criticism on them, and made them + uncomfortable, and shortened their tour of observation. + </p> + <p> + “I think I shall come with you to-morrow,” said Christopher, “or I shall + have these blackguards pestering you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Florry will send them to the right-about. She is as brave as a lion.” + </p> + <p> + Next day Dr. Staines was sent for into the City at twelve to pay the money + and receive the lease of the Bijou, and this and the taking possession + occupied him till four o'clock, when he came to his hotel. + </p> + <p> + Meantime, his wife and Mrs. Cole had gone to the auction-room. + </p> + <p> + It was a large room, with a good sprinkling of people, but not crowded + except about the table. At the head of this table—full twenty feet + long—was the auctioneer's pulpit, and the lots were brought in turn + to the other end of the table for sight and sale. + </p> + <p> + “We must try and get a seat,” said the enterprising Mrs. Cole, and pushed + boldly in; the timid Rosa followed strictly in her wake, and so evaded the + human waves her leader clove. They were importuned at every step by + brokers thrusting catalogues on them, with offers of their services, yet + they soon got to the table. A gentleman resigned one chair, a broker + another, and they were seated. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Staines let down half her veil, but Mrs. Cole surveyed the company + point-blank. + </p> + <p> + The broker who had given up his seat, and now stood behind Rosa, offered + her his catalogue. “No, thank you,” said Rosa; “I have one;” and she + produced it, and studied it, yet managed to look furtively at the company. + </p> + <p> + There were not above a dozen private persons visible from where Rosa sat; + perhaps as many more in the whole room. They were easily distinguishable + by their cleanly appearance: the dealers, male or female, were more or + less rusty, greasy, dirty, aquiline. Not even the amateurs were brightly + dressed; that fundamental error was confined to Mesdames Cole and Staines. + The experienced, however wealthy, do not hunt bargains in silk and satin. + </p> + <p> + The auctioneer called “Lot 7. Four saucepans, two trays, a kettle, a + bootjack, and a towel-horse.” + </p> + <p> + These were put up at two shillings, and speedily knocked down for five to + a fat old woman in a greasy velvet jacket; blind industry had sewed bugles + on it, not artfully, but agriculturally. + </p> + <p> + “The lady on the left!” said the auctioneer to his clerk. That meant “Get + the money.” + </p> + <p> + The old lady plunged a huge paw into a huge pocket, and pulled out a huge + handful of coin—copper, silver, and gold—and paid for the lot; + and Rosa surveyed her dirty hands and nails with innocent dismay. “Oh, + what a dreadful creature!” she whispered; “and what can she want with + those old rubbishy things? I saw a hole in one from here.” The broker + overheard, and said, “She is a dealer, ma'am, and the things were given + away. She'll sell them for a guinea, easy.” + </p> + <p> + “Didn't I tell you?” said Mrs. Cole. + </p> + <p> + Soon after this the superior lots came on, and six very neat bedroom + chairs were sold to all appearance for fifteen shillings. + </p> + <p> + The next lot was identical, and Rosa hazarded a bid,—“Sixteen + shillings.” + </p> + <p> + Instantly some dealer, one of the hook-nosed that gathered round each lot + as it came to the foot of the table, cried “Eighteen shillings.” + </p> + <p> + “Nineteen,” said Rosa. + </p> + <p> + “A guinea,” said the dealer. + </p> + <p> + “Don't let it go,” said the broker behind her. “Don't let it go, ma'am.” + </p> + <p> + She colored at the intrusion, and left off bidding directly, and addressed + herself to Mrs. Cole. “Why should I give so much, when the last were sold + for fifteen shillings?” + </p> + <p> + The real reason was that the first lot was not bid for at all, except by + the proprietor. However, the broker gave her a very different solution; he + said, “The trade always run up a lady or a gentleman. Let me bid for you; + they won't run me up; they know better.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa did not reply, but looked at Mrs. Cole. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, dear,” said that lady; “you had much better let him bid for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said Rosa; “you can bid for this chest of drawers—lot + 25.” + </p> + <p> + When lot 25 came on, the broker bid in the silliest possible way, if his + object had been to get a bargain. He began to bid early and + ostentatiously; the article was protected by somebody or other there + present, who now of course saw his way clear; he ran it up audaciously, + and it was purchased for Rosa at about the price it could have been bought + for at a shop. + </p> + <p> + The next thing she wanted was a set of oak chairs. + </p> + <p> + They went up to twenty-eight pounds; then she said, “I shall give no more, + sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Better not lose them,” said the agent; “they are a great bargain;” and + bid another pound for her on his own responsibility. + </p> + <p> + They were still run up, and Rosa peremptorily refused to give any more. + She lost them, accordingly, by good luck. Her faithful broker looked + blank; so did the proprietor. + </p> + <p> + But, as the sale proceeded, she being young, the competition, though most + of it sham, being artful and exciting, and the traitor she employed + constantly puffing every article, she was drawn in to wishing for things, + and bidding by her feelings. + </p> + <p> + Then her traitor played a game that has been played a hundred times, and + the perpetrators never once lynched, as they ought to be, on the spot. He + signalled a confederate with a hooked nose; the Jew rascal bid against the + Christian scoundrel, and so they ran up the more enticing things to twice + their value under the hammer. + </p> + <p> + Rosa got flushed, and her eye gleamed like a gambler's, and she bought + away like wildfire. In which sport she caught sight of an old gentleman, + with little black eyes that kept twinkling at her. + </p> + <p> + She complained of these eyes to Mrs. Cole. “Why does he twinkle so? I can + see it is at me. I am doing something foolish—I know I am.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Cole turned, and fixed a haughty stare on the old gentleman. Would + you believe it? instead of sinking through the floor, he sat his ground, + and retorted with a cold, clear grin. + </p> + <p> + But now, whenever Rosa's agent bid for her, and the other man of straw + against him, the black eyes twinkled, and Rosa's courage began to ooze + away. At last she said, “That is enough for one day. I shall go. Who could + bear those eyes?” + </p> + <p> + The broker took her address; so did the auctioneer's clerk. The auctioneer + asked her for no deposit; her beautiful, innocent, and high-bred face was + enough for a man who was always reading faces, and interpreting them. + </p> + <p> + And so they retired. + </p> + <p> + But this charming sex is like that same auctioneer's hammer, it cannot go + abruptly. It is always going—going—going—a long time + before it is gone. I think it would perhaps loiter at the door of a jail, + with the order of release in its hand, after six years' confinement. + Getting up to go quenches in it the desire to go. So these ladies having + got up to go, turned and lingered, and hung fire so long, that at last + another set of oak chairs came up. “Oh! I must see what these go for,” + said Rosa, at the door. + </p> + <p> + The bidding was mighty languid now Rosa's broker was not stimulating it; + and the auctioneer was just knocking down twelve chairs—oak and + leather—and two arm-chairs, for twenty pounds, when, casting his + eyes around, he caught sight of Rosa looking at him rather excited. He + looked inquiringly at her. She nodded slightly; he knocked them down to + her at twenty guineas, and they were really a great bargain. + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-two,” cried the dealer. + </p> + <p> + “Too late,” said the auctioneer. + </p> + <p> + “I spoke with the hammer, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “After the hammer, Isaacs.” + </p> + <p> + “Shelp me God, we was together.” + </p> + <p> + One or two more of his tribe confirmed this pious falsehood, and clamored + to have them put up again. + </p> + <p> + “Call the next lot,” said the auctioneer, peremptorily. “Make up your mind + a little quicker next time, Mr. Isaacs; you have been long enough at it to + know the value of oak and moroccar.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Staines and her friend now started for Morley's Hotel, but went round + by Regent Street, whereby they got glued at Peter Robinson's window, and + nine other windows; and it was nearly five o'clock when they reached + Morley's. As they came near the door of their sitting-room, Mrs. Staines + heard somebody laughing and talking to her husband. The laugh, to her + subtle ears, did not sound musical and genial, but keen, satirical, + unpleasant; so it was with some timidity she opened the door, and there + sat the old chap with the twinkling eyes. Both parties stared at each + other a moment. + </p> + <p> + “Why, it is them,” cried the old gentleman. “Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!” + </p> + <p> + Rosa colored all over, and felt guilty somehow, and looked miserable. + </p> + <p> + “Rosa dear,” said Dr. Staines, “this is our Uncle Philip.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Rosa, and turned red and pale by turns; for she had a great + desire to propitiate Uncle Philip. + </p> + <p> + “You were in the auction-room, sir?” said Mrs. Cole, severely. + </p> + <p> + “I was, madam. He! he!” + </p> + <p> + “Furnishing a house?” + </p> + <p> + “No, ma'am. I go to a dozen sales a week; but it is not to buy—I + enjoy the humors. Did you ever hear of Robert Burton, ma'am?” + </p> + <p> + “No. Yes; a great traveller, isn't he? Discovered the Nile—or the + Niger—or SOMETHING?” + </p> + <p> + This majestic vagueness staggered old Crusty at first, but he recovered + his equilibrium, and said, “Why, yes, now I think of it, you are right; he + has travelled farther than most of us, for about two centuries ago he + visited that bourn whence no traveller returns. Well, when he was alive—he + was a student of Christchurch—he used to go down to a certain bridge + over the Isis and enjoy the chaff of the bargemen. Now there are no + bargemen left to speak of; the mantle of Bobby Burton's bargees has fallen + on the Jews and demi-semi-Christians that buy and sell furniture at the + weekly auctions; thither I repair to hear what little coarse wit is left + us. Used to go to the House of Commons; but they are getting too civil by + half for my money. Besides, characters come out in an auction. For + instance, only this very day I saw two ladies enter, in gorgeous attire, + like heifers decked for sacrifice, and reduce their spoliation to a + certainty by employing a broker to bid. Now, what is a broker? A fellow + who is to be paid a shilling in the pound for all articles purchased. What + is his interest, then? To buy cheap? Clearly not. He is paid in proportion + to the dearness of the article.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa's face began to work piteously. + </p> + <p> + “Accordingly, what did the broker in question do? He winked to another + broker, and these two bid against one another, over their victim's head, + and ran everything she wanted up at least a hundred per cent above the + value. So open and transparent a swindle I have seldom seen, even in an + auction-room. Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!” + </p> + <p> + His mirth was interrupted by Rosa going to her husband, hiding her head on + his shoulder, and meekly crying. + </p> + <p> + Christopher comforted her like a man. “Don't you cry, darling,” said he; + “how should a pure creature like you know the badness of the world all in + a moment? If it is my wife you are laughing at, Uncle Philip, let me tell + you this is the wrong place. I'd rather a thousand times have her as she + is, than armed with the cunning and suspicions of a hardened old worldling + like you.” + </p> + <p> + “With all my heart,” said Uncle Philip, who, to do him justice, could take + blows as well as give them; “but why employ a broker? Why pay a scoundrel + five per cent to make you pay a hundred per cent? Why pay a noisy fool a + farthing to open his mouth for you when you have taken the trouble to be + there yourself, and have got a mouth of your own to bid discreetly with? + Was ever such an absurdity?” He began to get angry. + </p> + <p> + “Do you want to quarrel with me, Uncle Philip?” said Christopher, firing + up; “because sneering at my Rosa is the way, and the only way, and the + sure way.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no,” said Rosa, interposing. “Uncle Philip was right. I am very + foolish and inexperienced, but I am not so vain as to turn from good + advice. I will never employ a broker again, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Uncle Philip smiled and looked pleased. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Cole caused a diversion by taking leave, and Rosa followed her + down-stairs. On her return she found Christopher telling his uncle all + about the Bijou, and how he had taken it for a hundred and thirty pounds a + year and a hundred pounds premium, and Uncle Philip staring fearfully. + </p> + <p> + At last he found his tongue. “The Bijou!” said he. “Why, that is a name + they gave to a little den in Dear Street, Mayfair. You haven't ever been + and taken THAT! Built over a mews.” + </p> + <p> + Christopher groaned. “That is the place, I fear.” + </p> + <p> + “Why the owner is a friend of mine; an old patient. Stables stunk him out. + Let it to a man; I forget his name. Stables stunk HIM out. He said, 'I + shall go.' 'You can't,' said my friend; 'you have taken a lease.' 'Lease + be d—d,' said the other; 'I never took YOUR house; here's quite a + large stench not specified in your description of the property—IT + CAN'T BE THE SAME PLACE;' flung the lease at his head, and cut like the + wind to foreign parts less odoriferous. I'd have got you the hole for + ninety; but you are like your wife—you must go to an agent. What! + don't you know that an agent is a man acting for you with an interest + opposed to yours? Employing an agent! it is like a Trojan seeking the aid + of a Greek. You needn't cry, Mrs. Staines; your husband has been let in + deeper than you have. Now, you are young people beginning life; I'll give + you a piece of advice. Employ others to do what you can't do, and it must + be done; but never to do anything you can do better for yourselves! Agent! + The word is derived from a Latin word 'agere,' to do; and agents act up to + their etymology, for they invariably DO the nincompoop that employs them, + or deals with them, in any mortal way. I'd have got you that beastly + little Bijou for ninety pounds a year.” + </p> + <p> + Uncle Philip went away crusty, leaving the young couple finely mortified + and discouraged. + </p> + <p> + That did not last very long. Christopher noted the experience and Uncle + Phil's wisdom in his diary, and then took his wife on his knee, and + comforted her, and said, “Never mind; experience is worth money, and it + always has to be bought. Those who cheat us will die poorer than we shall, + if we are honest and economical. I have observed that people are seldom + ruined by the vices of others; these may hurt them, of course; but it is + only their own faults and follies that can destroy them.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Christie,” said Rosa, “you are a man! Oh, the comfort of being + married to A MAN. A man sees the best side. I do adore men. Dearest, I + will waste no more of your money. I will go to no more sales.” + </p> + <p> + Christopher saw she was deeply mortified, and he said, quietly, “On the + contrary, you will go to the very next. Only take Uncle Philip's advice, + employ no broker; and watch the prices things fetch when you are not + bidding; and keep cool.” + </p> + <p> + She caressed his ears with both her white hands, and thanked him for + giving her another trial. So that trouble melted in the sunshine of + conjugal love. + </p> + <p> + Notwithstanding the agent's solemn assurance, the Bijou was out of repair. + Dr. Staines detected internal odors, as well as those that flowed in from + the mews. He was not the man to let his wife perish by miasma; so he had + the drains all up, and actually found brick drains, and a cesspool. He + stopped that up, and laid down new pipe drains, with a good fall, and + properly trapped. The old drains were hidden, after the manner of + builders. He had the whole course of his new drains marked upon all the + floors they passed under, and had several stones and boards hinged to + facilitate examination at any period. + </p> + <p> + But all this, with the necessary cleaning, whitewashing, painting, and + papering, ran away with money. Then came Rosa's purchases, which, to her + amazement, amounted to one hundred and ninety pounds, and not a carpet, + curtain, or bed amongst the lot. Then there was the carriage home from the + auction-room, an expense one avoids by buying at a shop, and the broker + claimed his shilling in the pound. This, however, Staines refused. The man + came and blustered. Rosa, who was there, trembled. Then, for the first + time, she saw her husband's brow lower; he seemed transfigured, and looked + terrible. “You scoundrel,” said he, “you set another villain like yourself + to bid against you, and you betrayed the innocent lady that employed you. + I could indict you and your confederate for a conspiracy. I take the goods + out of respect for my wife's credit, but you shall gain nothing by + swindling her. Be off, you heartless miscreant, or I'll”— + </p> + <p> + “I'll take the law, if you do.” + </p> + <p> + “Take it, then! I'll give you something to howl for;” and he seized him + with a grasp so tremendous that the fellow cried out in dismay, “Oh! don't + hit me, sir; pray don't.” + </p> + <p> + On this abject appeal, Staines tore the door open with his left hand, and + spun the broker out into the passage with his right. Two movements of this + angry Hercules, and the man was literally whirled out of sight with a + rapidity and swiftness almost ludicrous; it was like a trick in a + pantomime. A clatter on the stairs betrayed that he had gone down the + first few steps in a wholesale and irregular manner, though he had just + managed to keep his feet. + </p> + <p> + As for Staines, he stood there still lowering like thunder, and his eyes + like hot coals; but his wife threw her tender arms around him, and begged + him consolingly not to mind. + </p> + <p> + She was trembling like an aspen. + </p> + <p> + “Dear me,” said Christopher, with a ludicrous change to marked politeness + and respect, “I forgot YOU, in my righteous indignation.” Next he became + uxorious. “Did they frighten her, a duck? Sit on my knee, darling, and + pull my hair, for not being more considerate—there! there!” + </p> + <p> + This was followed by the whole absurd soothing process, as practised by + manly husbands upon quivering and somewhat hysterical wives, and ended + with a formal apology. “You must not think that I am passionate; on the + contrary, I am always practising self-government. My maxim is, Animum rege + qui nisi paret imperat, and that means, Make your temper your servant, or + else it will be your master. But to ill-use my dear little wife—it + is unnatural, it is monstrous, it makes my blood boil.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear! don't go into another. It is all over. I can't bear to see you + in a passion; you are so terrible, so beautiful. Ah! they are fine things, + courage and strength. There's nothing I admire so much.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, they are as common as dirt. What I admire is modesty, timidity, + sweetness; the sensitive cheek that pales or blushes at a word, the bosom + that quivers, and clings to a fellow whenever anything goes wrong.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that is what you admire, is it?” said Rosa dryly. + </p> + <p> + “Admire it?” said Christopher, not seeing the trap; “I adore it.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, Christie, dear, you are a Simpleton, that is all. And we are made + for one another.” + </p> + <p> + The house was to be furnished and occupied as soon as possible; so Mrs. + Staines and Mrs. Cole went to another sale-room. Mrs. Staines remembered + all Uncle Philip had said, and went plainly dressed; but her friend + declined to sacrifice her showy dress to her friend's interests. Rosa + thought that a little unkind, but said nothing. + </p> + <p> + In this auction-room they easily got a place at the table, but did not + find it heaven; for a number of secondhand carpets were in the sale, and + these, brimful of dust, were all shown on the table, and the dirt choked, + and poisoned our fair friends. Brokers pestered them, until at last Rosa, + smarting under her late exposure, addressed the auctioneer quietly, in her + silvery tones: “Sir, these gentlemen are annoying me by forcing their + services on me. I do not intend to buy at all unless I can be allowed to + bid for myself.” + </p> + <p> + When Rosa, blushing and amazed at her own boldness, uttered these words, + she little foresaw their effect. She had touched a popular sore. + </p> + <p> + “You are quite right, madam,” said a respectable tradesman opposite her. + “What business have these dirty fellows, without a shilling in their + pockets, to go and force themselves on a lady against her will?” + </p> + <p> + “It has been complained of in the papers again and again,” said another. + </p> + <p> + “What! mayn't we live as well as you?” retorted a broker. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but not to force yourself on a lady. Why, she'd give you in charge + of the police if you tried it on outside.” + </p> + <p> + Then there was a downright clamor of discussion and chaff. + </p> + <p> + Presently up rises very slowly a countryman so colossal, that it seemed as + if he would never have done getting up, and gives his experiences. He + informed the company, in a broad Yorkshire dialect, that he did a bit in + furniture, and at first starting these brokers buzzed about him like + flies, and pestered him. “Aah damned 'em pretty hard,” said he, “but they + didn't heed any. So then ah spoke 'em civil, and ah said, 'Well, lads, I + dinna come fra Yorkshire to sit like a dummy and let you buy wi' my brass; + the first that pesters me again ah'll just fell him on t' plaace, like a + caulf, and ah'm not very sure he'll get up again in a hurry.' So they + dropped me like a hot potato; never pestered me again. But if they won't + give over pestering you, mistress, ah'll come round and just stand behind + your chair, and bring nieve with me,” showing a fist like a leg of mutton. + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” said the auctioneer, “that will not do. I will have no + disturbance here. Call the policeman.” + </p> + <p> + While the clerk went to the door for the bobby, a gentleman reminded the + auctioneer that the journals had repeatedly drawn attention to the + nuisance. + </p> + <p> + “Fault of the public, not mine, sir. Policeman, stand behind that lady's + chair, and if anybody annoys her put him quietly into the street.” + </p> + <p> + “This auction-room will be to let soon,” said a voice at the end of the + table. + </p> + <p> + “This auction-room,” said the auctioneer, master of the gay or grave at a + moment's notice, “is supported by the public and the trade; it is not + supported by paupers.” + </p> + <p> + A Jew upholsterer put in his word. “I do my own business; but I like to + let a poor man live.” + </p> + <p> + “Jonathan,” said the auctioneer to one of his servants, “after this sale + you may put up the shutters; we have gone and offended Mr. Jacobs. He + keeps a shop in Blind Alley, Whitechapel. Now then, lot 69.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa bid timidly for one or two lots, and bought them cheap. + </p> + <p> + The auctioneer kept looking her way, and she had only to nod. + </p> + <p> + The obnoxious broker got opposite her, and ran her up a little out of + spite; but as he had only got half a crown about him, and no means of + doubling it, he dared not go far. + </p> + <p> + On the other side of the table was a figure to which Rosa's eyes often + turned with interest—a fair young boy about twelve years old; he had + golden hair, and was in deep mourning. His appearance interested Rosa, and + she wondered how he came there, and why; he looked like a lamb wedged in + among wolves, a flower among weeds. As the lots proceeded, the boy seemed + to get uneasy; and at last, when lot '73 was put up, anybody could see in + his poor little face that he was there to bid for it. + </p> + <p> + “Lot '73, an armchair covered in morocco. An excellent and useful article. + Should not be at all surprised if it was made by Gillow.” + </p> + <p> + “Gillow would though,” said Jacobs, who owed him a turn. + </p> + <p> + Chorus of dealers.—“Haw! haw!” + </p> + <p> + The auctioneer.—“I like to hear some people run a lot down; shows + they are going to bid for it in earnest. Well, name your own price. Five + pounds to begin?” + </p> + <p> + Now if nobody had spoken the auctioneer would have gone on, “Well, four + pounds then—three, two, whatever you like,” and at last obtained a + bona fide offer of thirty shillings; but the moment he said “Five pounds + to begin,” the boy in black lifted up his childish treble and bid thus, + “Five pound ten”—“six pounds”—“six pound ten”—“seven + pounds”—“seven pound ten”—“eight pounds”—“eight pound + ten”—“nine pounds”—“nine pound ten”—“ten pounds!” + without interruption, and indeed almost in a breath. + </p> + <p> + There was a momentary pause of amazement, and then an outburst of chaff. + </p> + <p> + “Nice little boy!” + </p> + <p> + “Didn't he say his lesson well?” + </p> + <p> + “Favor us with your card, sir. You are a gent as knows how to buy.” + </p> + <p> + “What did he stop for? If it's worth ten, it is worth a hundred.” + </p> + <p> + “Bless the child!” said a female dealer, kindly, “what made you go on like + that? Why, there was no one bid against you! you'd have got it for two + pounds—a rickety old thing.” + </p> + <p> + Young master began to whimper. “Why, the gentleman said, 'Five pounds to + BEGIN.' It was the chair poor grandpapa always sat in, and all the things + are sold, and mamma said it would break her heart to lose it. She was too + ill to come, so she sent me. She told me I was not to let it be sold away + from us for less than ten pounds, or she sh—should be m—m—miserable,” + and the poor little fellow began to cry. Rosa followed suit promptly but + unobtrusively. + </p> + <p> + “Sentiment always costs money,” said Mr. Jacobs, gravely. + </p> + <p> + “How do you know?” asked Mr. Cohen. “Have YOU got any on hand? I never + seen none at your shop.” + </p> + <p> + Some tempting things now came up, and Mrs. Staines bid freely; but all of + a sudden she looked down the table, and there was Uncle Philip, twinkling + as before. “Oh, dear! what am I doing now!” thought she. “I have got no + broker.” + </p> + <p> + She bid on, but in fear and trembling, because of those twinkling eyes. At + last she mustered courage, wrote on a leaf of her pocket-book, and passed + it down to him: “It would be only kind to warn me. What am I doing wrong?” + </p> + <p> + He sent her back a line directly: “Auctioneer running you up himself. + Follow his eye when he bids; you will see there is no bona fide bidder at + your prices.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa did so, and found that it was true. + </p> + <p> + She nodded to Uncle Philip; and, with her expressive face, asked him what + she should do. + </p> + <p> + The old boy must have his joke. So he wrote back: “Tell him, as you see he + has a fancy for certain articles, you would not be so discourteous as to + bid against him.” + </p> + <p> + The next article but one was a drawing-room suite Rosa wanted; but the + auctioneer bid against her; so at eighteen pounds she stopped. + </p> + <p> + “It is against you, madam,” said the auctioneer. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” said Rosa; “but as you are the only bidder, and you have been + so kind to me, I would not think of opposing you.” + </p> + <p> + The words were scarcely out of her mouth, when they were greeted with a + roar of Homeric laughter that literally shook the room, and this time not + at the expense of the innocent speaker. + </p> + <p> + “That's into your mutton, governor.” + </p> + <p> + “Sharp's the word this time.” + </p> + <p> + “I say, governor, don't you want a broker to bid for ye?” + </p> + <p> + “Wink at me next time, sir; I'll do the office for you.” + </p> + <p> + “No greenhorns left now.” + </p> + <p> + “That lady won't give a ten-pund note for her grandfather's armchair.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, she will, if it's stuffed with banknotes.” + </p> + <p> + “Put the next lot up with the owner's name and the reserve price. Open + business.” + </p> + <p> + “And sing a psalm at starting.” + </p> + <p> + “A little less noise in Judaea, if you please,” said the auctioneer, who + had now recovered from the blow. “Lot 97.” + </p> + <p> + This was a very pretty marqueterie cabinet; it stood against the wall, and + Rosa had set her heart upon it. Nobody would bid. She had muzzled the + auctioneer effectually. + </p> + <p> + “Your own price.” + </p> + <p> + “Two pounds,” said Rosa. + </p> + <p> + A dealer offered guineas; and it advanced slowly to four pounds and half a + crown, at which it was about to be knocked down to Rosa, when suddenly a + new bidder arose in the broker Rosa had rejected. They bid slowly and + sturdily against each other, until a line was given to Rosa from Uncle + Philip. + </p> + <p> + “This time it is your own friend, the snipe-nosed woman. She telegraphed a + broker.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa read, and crushed the note. “Six guineas,” said she. + </p> + <p> + “Six-ten.” + </p> + <p> + “Seven.” + </p> + <p> + “Seven-ten.” + </p> + <p> + “Eight.” + </p> + <p> + “Eight-ten.” + </p> + <p> + “Ten guineas,” said Rosa; and then, with feminine cunning, stealing a + sudden glance, caught her friend leaning back and signalling the broker + not to give in. + </p> + <p> + “Eleven pounds.” + </p> + <p> + “Twelve.” + </p> + <p> + “Thirteen.” + </p> + <p> + “Fourteen.” + </p> + <p> + “Sixteen.” + </p> + <p> + “Eighteen.” + </p> + <p> + “Twenty.” + </p> + <p> + “Twenty guineas.” + </p> + <p> + “It is yours, my faithful friend,” said Rosa, turning suddenly round to + Mrs. Cole, with a magnificent glance no one would have thought her capable + of. + </p> + <p> + Then she rose and stalked away. + </p> + <p> + Dumfounded for the moment, Mrs. Cole followed her, and stopped her at the + door. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Rosie dear, it is the only thing I have bid for. There I've sat by + your side like a mouse.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa turned gravely towards her. “You know it is not that. You had only to + tell me you wanted it. I would never have been so mean as to bid against + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Mean, indeed!” said. Florence, tossing her head. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, mean; to draw back and hide behind the friend you were with, and + employ the very rogue she had turned off. But it is my own fault. Cecilia + warned me against you. She always said you were a treacherous girl.” + </p> + <p> + “And I say you are an impudent little minx. Only just married, and going + about like two vagabonds, and talk to me like that!” + </p> + <p> + “We are not going about like two vagabonds. We have taken a house in + Mayfair.” + </p> + <p> + “Say a stable.” + </p> + <p> + “It was by your advice, you false-hearted creature.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a fool.” + </p> + <p> + “You are worse; you are a traitress.” + </p> + <p> + “Then don't you have anything to do with me.” + </p> + <p> + “Heaven forbid I should, you treacherous thing!” + </p> + <p> + “You insolent—insolent—I hate you.” + </p> + <p> + “And I despise you.” + </p> + <p> + “I always hated you at bottom.” + </p> + <p> + “That's why you pretended to love me, you wretch.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I pretend no more. I am your enemy for life.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you. You have told the truth for once in your life.” + </p> + <p> + “I have. And he shall never call in your husband; so you may leave Mayfair + as soon as you like.” + </p> + <p> + “Not to please you, madam. We can get on without traitors.” + </p> + <p> + And so they parted, with eyes that gleamed like tigers. + </p> + <p> + Rosa drove home in great agitation, and tried to tell Christopher; but + choked, and became hysterical. The husband-physician coaxed and scolded + her out of that; and presently in came Uncle Philip, full of the humors of + the auction-room. He told about the little boy with a delight that + disgusted Mrs. Staines, and then was particularly merry on female + friendships. “Fancy a man going to a sale with his friend, and bidding + against him on the sly.” + </p> + <p> + “She is no friend of mine. We are enemies for life.” + </p> + <p> + “And you were to be friends till death,” said Staines, with a sigh. + </p> + <p> + Philip inquired who she was. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. John Cole.” + </p> + <p> + “Not of Curzon Street?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “And you have quarrelled with her?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, but her husband is a general practitioner.” + </p> + <p> + “She is a traitress.” + </p> + <p> + “But her husband could put a good deal of money in Christopher's way.” + </p> + <p> + “I can't help it. She is a traitress.” + </p> + <p> + “And you have quarrelled with her about an old wardrobe.” + </p> + <p> + “No, for her disloyalty, and her base good-for-nothingness. Oh! oh! oh!” + </p> + <p> + Uncle Philip got up, looking sour. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Christopher,” + said he, very dryly. + </p> + <p> + Christopher accompanied him to the foot of the stairs. “Well, + Christopher,” said he, “matrimony is a blunder at the best; and you have + not done the thing by halves. You have married a simpleton. She will be + your ruin.” + </p> + <p> + “Uncle Philip, since you only come here to insult us, I hope in future you + will stay at home.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! with pleasure, sir. Good-by!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. + </h2> + <p> + Christopher Staines came back, looking pained and disturbed. “There,” said + he, “I feared it would come to this. I have quarrelled with Uncle Philip.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! how could you?” + </p> + <p> + “He affronted me.” + </p> + <p> + “What about?” + </p> + <p> + “Never you mind. Don't let us say anything more about it, darling. It is a + pity, a sad pity—he was a good friend of mine once.” + </p> + <p> + He paused, entered what had passed in his diary, and then sat down, with a + gentle expression of sadness on his manly features. Rosa hung about him, + soft and pitying, till it cleared away, at all events for the time. + </p> + <p> + Next day they went together to clear the goods Rosa had purchased. Whilst + the list was being made out in the office, in came the fair-haired boy, + with a ten-pound note in his very hand. Rosa caught sight of it, and + turned to the auctioneer, with a sweet, pitying face: + </p> + <p> + “Oh! sir, surely you will not take all that money from him, poor child, + for a rickety old chair.” + </p> + <p> + The auctioneer stared with amazement at her simplicity, and said, “What + would the vendors say to me?” + </p> + <p> + She looked distressed, and said, “Well, then, really we ought to raise a + subscription, poor thing!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, ma'am,” said the auctioneer, “he isn't hurt: the article belonged to + his mother and her sister; the brother-in-law isn't on good terms; so he + demanded a public sale. She will get back four pun ten out of it.” Here + the clerk put in his word. “And there's five pounds paid, I forgot to tell + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! left a deposit, did he?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir. But the laughing hyena gave you five pounds at the end of the + sale.” + </p> + <p> + “The laughing hyena, Mr. Jones?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! beg pardon; that is what we call him in the room. He has got such a + curious laugh.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I know the gent. He is a retired doctor. I wish he'd laugh less and + buy more: and HE gave you five pounds towards the young gentleman's + arm-chair! Well, I should as soon have expected blood from a flint. You + have got five pounds to pay, sir: so now the chair will cost your mamma + ten shillings. Give him the order and the change, Mr. Jones.” + </p> + <p> + Christopher and Rosa talked this over in the room whilst the men were + looking out their purchases. “Come,” said Rosa; “now I forgive him + sneering at me; his heart is not really hard, you see.” Staines, on the + contrary, was very angry. “What!” he cried, “pity a boy who made one bad + bargain, that, after all, was not a very bad bargain; and he had no + kindness, nor even common humanity, for my beautiful Rosa, inexperienced + as a child, and buying for her husband, like a good, affectionate, honest + creature, amongst a lot of sharpers and hard-hearted cynics—like + himself.” + </p> + <p> + “It WAS cruel of him,” said Rosa, altering her mind in a moment, and half + inclined to cry. + </p> + <p> + This made Christopher furious. “The ill-natured, crotchety, old—the + fact is, he is a misogynist.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the wretch!” said Rosa warmly. “And what is that?” + </p> + <p> + “A woman-hater.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! is that all? Why, so do I—after that Florence Cole. Women are + mean, heartless things. Give me men; they are loyal and true.” + </p> + <p> + “All of them?” inquired Christopher, a little satirically. “Read the + papers.” + </p> + <p> + “Every soul of them,” said Mrs. Staines, passing loftily over the proposed + test. “That is, all the ones I care about; and that is my own, own one.” + </p> + <p> + Disagreeable creatures to have about one—these simpletons! + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Staines took Christopher to shops to buy the remaining requisites: + and in three days more the house was furnished, two female servants + engaged, and the couple took their luggage over to the Bijou. + </p> + <p> + Rosa was excited and happy at the novelty of possession and authority, and + that close sense of house proprietorship which belongs to woman. By + dinner-time she could have told you how many shelves there were in every + cupboard, and knew the Bijou by heart in a way that Christopher never knew + it. All this ended, as running about and excitement generally does, with + my lady being exhausted, and lax with fatigue. So then he made her lie + down on a little couch, while he went through his accounts. + </p> + <p> + When he had examined all the bills carefully he looked very grave, and + said, “Who would believe this? We began with three thousand pounds. It was + to last us several years—till I got a good practice. Rosa, there is + only fourteen hundred and forty pounds left.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, impossible!” said Rosa. “Oh, dear! why did I ever enter a saleroom?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, my darling; you were bitten once or twice, but you made some good + bargains too. Remember there was four hundred pounds set apart for my life + policy.” + </p> + <p> + “What a waste of money!” + </p> + <p> + “Your father did not think so. Then the lease; the premium; repairs of the + drains that would have poisoned my Rosa; turning the coach-house into a + dispensary; painting, papering, and furnishing; china, and linen, and + everything to buy. We must look at this seriously. Only fourteen hundred + and forty pounds left. A slow profession. No friends. I have quarrelled + with Uncle Philip: you with Mrs. Cole; and her husband would have launched + me.” + </p> + <p> + “And it was to please her we settled here. Oh, I could kill her: nasty + cat!” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind; it is not a case for despondency, but it is for prudence. All + we have to do is to look the thing in the face, and be very economical in + everything. I had better give you an allowance for housekeeping; and I + earnestly beg you to buy things yourself whilst you are a poor man's wife, + and pay ready money for everything. My mother was a great manager, and she + always said, 'There is but one way: be your own market-woman, and pay on + the spot; never let the tradesmen get you on their books, or, what with + false weight, double charges, and the things your servants order that + never enter the house, you lose more than a hundred a year by cheating.'” + </p> + <p> + Rosa yielded a languid assent to this part of his discourse, and it hardly + seemed to enter her mind; but she raised no objection; and in due course + he made her a special allowance for housekeeping. + </p> + <p> + It soon transpired that medical advice was to be had, gratis, at the + Bijou, from eight till ten: and there was generally a good attendance. But + a week passed, and not one patient came of the class this couple must live + by. Christopher set this down to what people call “the transition period:” + his Kent patients had lost him; his London patients not found him. He + wrote to all his patients in the country, and many of his pupils at the + university, to let them know where he was settled: and then he waited. + </p> + <p> + Not a creature came. + </p> + <p> + Rosa bore this very well for a time, so long as the house was a novelty; + but when that excitement was worn out, she began to be very dull, and used + to come and entice him out to walk with her: he would look wistfully at + her, but object that, if he left the house, he should be sure to lose a + patient. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, they won't come any more for our staying in—tiresome things!” + said Rosa. + </p> + <p> + But Christopher would kiss her, and remain firm. “My love,” said he, “you + do not realize how hard a fight there is before us. How should you? You + are very young. No, for your sake, I must not throw a chance away. Write + to your female friends: that will while away an hour or two.” + </p> + <p> + “What, after that Florence Cole?” + </p> + <p> + “Write to those who have not made such violent professions.” + </p> + <p> + “So I will, dear. Especially to those that are married and come to London. + Oh, and I'll write to that cold-blooded thing, Lady Cicely Treherne. Why + do you shake your head?” + </p> + <p> + “Did I? I was not aware. Well, dear, if ladies of rank were to come here, + I fear they might make you discontented with your lot.” + </p> + <p> + “All the women on earth could not do that. However, the chances are she + will not come near me: she left the school quite a big girl, an immense + girl, when I was only twelve. She used to smile at my capriccios; and once + she kissed me—actually. She was an awful Sawny, though, and so + affected: I think I will write to her.” + </p> + <p> + These letters brought just one lady, a Mrs. Turner, who talked to Rosa + very glibly about herself, and amused Rosa twice: at the third visit, Rosa + tried to change the conversation. Mrs. Turner instantly got up, and went + away. She could not bear the sound of the human voice, unless it was + talking about her and her affairs. + </p> + <p> + And now Staines began to feel downright uneasy. Income was going steadily + out: not a shilling coming in. The lame, the blind, and the sick + frequented his dispensary, and got his skill out of him gratis, and + sometimes a little physic, a little wine, and other things that cost him + money: but of the patients that pay, not one came to his front door. + </p> + <p> + He walked round and round his little yard, like a hyena in its cage, + waiting, waiting, waiting: and oh! how he envied the lot of those who can + hunt for work, instead of having to stay at home and wait for others to + come, whose will they cannot influence. His heart began to sicken with + hope deferred, and dim forebodings of the future; and he saw, with grief, + that his wife was getting duller and duller, and that her days dragged + more heavily, far than his own; for he could study. + </p> + <p> + At last his knocker began to show signs of life: his visitors were + physicians. His lectures on “Diagnosis” were well known to them; and one + after another found him out. They were polite, kind, even friendly; but + here it ended: these gentlemen, of course, did not resign their patients + to him; and the inferior class of practitioners avoided his door like a + pestilence. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Staines, who had always lived for amusement, could strike out no + fixed occupation; her time hung like lead; the house was small; and in + small houses the faults of servants run against the mistress, and she + can't help seeing them, and all the worse for her. It is easier to keep + things clean in the country, and Rosa had a high standard, which her two + servants could never quite attain. This annoyed her, and she began to + scold a little. They answered civilly, but in other respects remained + imperfect beings; they laid out every shilling they earned in finery; and, + this, I am ashamed to say, irritated Mrs. Staines, who was wearing out her + wedding garments, and had no excuse for buying, and Staines had begged her + to be economical. The more they dressed, the more she scolded; they began + to answer. She gave the cook warning; the other, though not on good terms + with the cook, had a gush of esprit de corps directly, and gave Mrs. + Staines warning. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Staines told her husband all this: he took her part, though without + openly interfering; and they had two new servants, not so good as the + last. + </p> + <p> + This worried Rosa sadly; but it was a flea-bite to the deeper nature, and + more forecasting mind of her husband, still doomed to pace that miserable + yard, like a hyena, chafing, seeking, longing for the patient that never + came. + </p> + <p> + Rosa used to look out of his dressing-room window, and see him pace the + yard. At first, tears of pity stood in her eyes. By and by she got angry + with the world; and at last, strange to say, a little irritated with him. + It is hard for a weak woman to keep up all her respect for the man that + fails. + </p> + <p> + One day, after watching him a long time unseen, she got excited, put on + her shawl and bonnet, and ran down to him: she took him by the arm: “If + you love me, come out of this prison, and walk with me; we are too + miserable. I shall be your first patient if this goes on much longer.” He + looked at her, saw she was very excited, and had better be humored; so he + kissed her and just said, with a melancholy smile, “How poor are they that + have not patience!” Then he put on his hat, and walked in the Park and + Kensington Gardens with her. The season was just beginning. There were + carriages enough, and gay Amazons enough, to make poor Rosa sigh more than + once. + </p> + <p> + Christopher heard the sigh; and pressed her arm, and said, “Courage, love, + I hope to see you among them yet.” + </p> + <p> + “The sooner the better,” said she, a little hardly. + </p> + <p> + “And, meantime, which of them all is as beautiful as you?” + </p> + <p> + “All I know is, they are more attractive. Who looks at me, walking tamely + by?” + </p> + <p> + Christopher said nothing: but these words seemed to imply a thirst for + admiration, and made him a little uneasy. + </p> + <p> + By and by the walk put the swift-changing Rosa in spirits, and she began + to chat gayly, and hung prattling and beaming on her husband's arm, when + they entered Curzon Street. Here, however, occurred an incident, trifling + in itself, but unpleasant. Dr. Staines saw one of his best Kentish + patients get feebly out of his carriage, and call on Dr. Barr. He started, + and stopped. Rosa asked what was the matter. He told her. She said, “We + ARE unfortunate.” + </p> + <p> + Staines said nothing; he only quickened his pace; but he was greatly + disturbed. She expected him to complain that she had dragged him out, and + lost him that first chance. But he said nothing. When they got home, he + asked the servant had anybody called. + </p> + <p> + “No, Sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Surely you are mistaken, Jane. A gentleman in a carriage!” + </p> + <p> + “Not a creature have been since you went out, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, dearest,” said he sweetly, “we have nothing to reproach + ourselves with.” Then he knit his brow gloomily. “It is worse than I + thought. It seems even one's country patients go to another doctor when + they visit London. It is hard. It is hard.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa leaned her head on his shoulder, and curled round him, as one she + would shield against the world's injustice; but she said nothing; she was + a little frightened at his eye that lowered, and his noble frame that + trembled a little, with ire suppressed. + </p> + <p> + Two days after this, a brougham drove up to the door, and a tallish, + fattish, pasty-faced man got out, and inquired for Dr. Staines. + </p> + <p> + He was shown into the dining-room, and told Jane he had come to consult + the doctor. + </p> + <p> + Rosa had peeped over the stairs, all curiosity; she glided noiselessly + down, and with love's swift foot got into the yard before Jane. “He is + come! he is come! Kiss me.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Staines kissed her first, and then asked who was come. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nobody of any consequence. ONLY the first patient. Kiss me again.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Staines kissed her again, and then was for going to the first patient. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said she; “not yet. I met a doctor's wife at Dr. Mayne's, and she + told me things. You must always keep them waiting; or else they think + nothing of you. Such a funny woman! 'Treat 'em like dogs, my dear,' she + said. But I told her they wouldn't come to be treated like dogs or any + other animal.” + </p> + <p> + “You had better have kept that to yourself, I think.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! if you are going to be disagreeable, good-by. You can go to your + patient, sir. Christie, dear, if he is very—very ill—and I'm + sure I hope he is—oh, how wicked I am; may I have a new bonnet?” + </p> + <p> + “If you really want one.” + </p> + <p> + On the patient's card was “Mr. Pettigrew, 47 Manchester Square.” + </p> + <p> + As soon as Staines entered the room, the first patient told him who and + what he was, a retired civilian from India; but he had got a son there + still, a very rising man; wanted to be a parson; but he would not stand + that; bad profession; don't rise by merit; very hard to rise at all;—no, + India was the place. “As for me, I made my fortune there in ten years. + Obliged to leave it now—invalid this many years; no TONE. Tried two + or three doctors in this neighborhood; heard there was a new one, had + written a book on something. Thought I would try HIM.” + </p> + <p> + To stop him, Staines requested to feel his pulse, and examine his tongue + and eye. + </p> + <p> + “You are suffering from indigestion,” said he. “I will write you a + prescription; but if you want to get well, you must simplify your diet + very much.” + </p> + <p> + While he was writing the prescription, off went this patient's tongue, and + ran through the topics of the day and into his family history again. + </p> + <p> + Staines listened politely. He could afford it, having only this one. + </p> + <p> + At last, the first patient, having delivered an octavo volume of nothing, + rose to go; but it seems that speaking an “infinite deal of nothing” + exhausts the body, though it does not affect the mind; for the first + patient sank down in his chair again. “I have excited myself too much—feel + rather faint.” + </p> + <p> + Staines saw no signs of coming syncope; he rang the bell quietly, and + ordered a decanter of sherry to be brought; the first patient filled + himself a glass; then another; and went off, revived, to chatter + elsewhere. But at the door he said, “I had always a running account with + Dr. Mivar. I suppose you don't object to that system. Double fee the first + visit, single afterwards.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Staines bowed a little stiffly; he would have preferred the money. + However, he looked at the Blue Book, and found his visitor lived at 47 + Manchester Square; so that removed his anxiety. + </p> + <p> + The first patient called every other day, chattered nineteen to the dozen, + was exhausted, drank two glasses of sherry, and drove away. + </p> + <p> + Soon after this a second patient called. This one was a deputy patient—Collett, + a retired butler—kept a lodging-house, and waited at parties; he + lived close by, but had a married daughter in Chelsea. Would the doctor + visit her, and HE would be responsible? + </p> + <p> + Staines paid the woman a visit or two, and treated her so effectually, + that soon her visits were paid to him. She was cured, and Staines, who by + this time wanted to see money, sent to Collett. + </p> + <p> + Collett did not answer. + </p> + <p> + Staines wrote warmly. + </p> + <p> + Collett dead silent. + </p> + <p> + Staines employed a solicitor. + </p> + <p> + Collett said he had recommended the patient, that was all. He had never + said he would pay her debts. That was her husband's business. + </p> + <p> + Now her husband was the mate of a ship; would not be in England for + eighteen months. + </p> + <p> + The woman, visited by lawyer's clerk, cried bitterly, and said she and her + children had scarcely enough to eat. + </p> + <p> + Lawyer advised Staines to abandon the case, and pay him two pounds fifteen + shillings expenses. He did so. + </p> + <p> + “This is damnable,” said he. “I must get it out of Pettigrew; by-the-by, + he has not been here this two days.” + </p> + <p> + He waited another day for Pettigrew, and then wrote to him. No answer. + Called. Pettigrew gone abroad. House in Manchester Square to let. + </p> + <p> + Staines went to the house-agent with his tale. Agent was impenetrable at + first; but, at last, won by the doctor's manner and his unhappiness, + referred him to Pettigrew's solicitor; the solicitor was a respectable + man, and said he would forward the claim to Pettigrew in Paris. + </p> + <p> + But by this time Pettigrew was chattering and guzzling in Berlin; and + thence he got to St. Petersburg. In that stronghold of gluttony, he + gormandized more than ever, and, being unable to talk it off his stomach, + as in other cities, had apoplexy, and died. + </p> + <p> + But long before this Staines saw his money was as irrecoverable as his + sherry; and he said to Rosa, “I wonder whether I shall ever live to curse + the human race?” + </p> + <p> + “Heaven forbid!” said Rosa. “Oh, they use you cruelly, my poor, poor + Christie!” + </p> + <p> + Thus for months the young doctor's patients bled him, and that was all. + </p> + <p> + And Rosa got more and more moped at being in the house so much, and + pestered Christopher to take her out, and he declined: and, being a man + hard to beat, took to writing on medical subjects, in hopes of getting + some money from the various medical and scientific publications; but he + found it as hard to get the wedge in there as to get patients. + </p> + <p> + At last Rosa's remonstrances began to rise into something that sounded + like reproaches. One Sunday she came to him in her bonnet, and interrupted + his studies, to say he might as well lay down the pen, and talk. Nobody + would publish anything he wrote. + </p> + <p> + Christopher frowned, but contained himself, and laid down the pen. + </p> + <p> + “I might as well not be married at all as be a doctor's wife. You are + never seen out with me, not even to church. Do behave like a Christian, + and come to church with me now.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Staines shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Why, I wouldn't miss church for all the world. Any excitement is better + than always moping. Come over the water with me. The time Jane and I went, + the clergyman read a paper that Mr. Brown had fallen down in a fit. There + was such a rush directly, and I'm sure fifty ladies went out—fancy, + all Mrs. Browns! Wasn't that fun?” + </p> + <p> + “Fun? I don't see it. Well, Rosa, your mind is evidently better adapted to + diversion than mine is. Go you to church, love, and I'll continue my + studies.” + </p> + <p> + “Then all I can say is, I wish I was back in my father's house. Husband! + friend! companion!—I have none.” + </p> + <p> + Then she burst out crying violently; and, being shocked at what she had + said, and at the agony it had brought into her husband's face, she went + off into hysterics; and as his heart would not let him bellow at her, or + empty a bucket on her as he would on another patient, she had a good long + bout of them: and got her way, for she broke up his studies for that day, + at all events. + </p> + <p> + Even after the hysterics were got under, she continued to moan and sigh + very prettily, with her lovely, languid head pillowed on her husband's + arm; in a word, though the hysterics were real, yet this innocent young + person had the presence of mind to postpone entire convalescence, and lay + herself out to be petted all day. But fate willed it otherwise: while she + was sighing and moaning, came to the door a scurrying of feet, and then a + sharp, persistent ringing that meant something. The moaner cocked eye and + ear, and said, in her every-day voice, which, coming so suddenly, sounded + very droll, “What is that, I wonder?” + </p> + <p> + Jane hurried to the street-door, and Rosa recovered by magic; and, + preferring gossip to hysterics, in an almost gleeful whisper, ordered + Christopher to open the door of the study. The Bijou was so small that the + following dialogue rang in their ears:— + </p> + <p> + A boy in buttons gasped out, “Oh, if you please, will you ast the doctor + to come round directly; there's a haccident.” + </p> + <p> + “La, bless me!” said Jane, and never budged. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, miss. It's our missus's little girl fallen right off an i-chair, and + cut her head dreadful, and smothered in blood.” + </p> + <p> + “La, to be sure!” And she waited steadily for more. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, and missus she fainted right off; and I've been to the regler doctor, + which he's out; and Sarah, the housemaid, said I had better come here; you + was only just set up, she said; you wouldn't have so much to do, says + she.” + </p> + <p> + “That is all SHE knows,” said Jane. “Why, our master—they pulls him + in pieces which is to have him fust.” + </p> + <p> + “What an awful liar! Oh, you good girl!” whispered Dr. Staines and Rosa in + one breath. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, well,” said Buttons, “any way, Sarah says she knows you are clever, + 'cos her little girl as lives with her mother, and calls Sarah aunt, has + bin to your 'spensary with ringworm, and you cured her right off.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, and a good many more,” said Jane, loftily. She was a housemaid of + imagination; and while Staines was putting some lint and an instrument + case into his pocket, she proceeded to relate a number of miraculous + cures. Dr. Staines interrupted them by suddenly emerging, and inviting + Buttons to take him to the house. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Staines was so pleased with Jane for cracking up the doctor, that she + gave her five shillings; and, after that, used to talk to her a great deal + more than to the cook, which judicious conduct presently set all three by + the ears. + </p> + <p> + Buttons took the doctor to a fine house in the same street, and told him + his mistress's name on the way—Mrs. Lucas. He was taken up to the + nursery, and found Mrs. Lucas seated, crying and lamenting, and a woman + holding a little girl of about seven, whose brow had been cut open by the + fender, on which she had fallen from a chair; it looked very ugly, and was + even now bleeding. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Staines lost no time; he examined the wound keenly, and then said + kindly to Mrs. Lucas, “I am happy to tell you it is not serious.” He then + asked for a large basin and some tepid water, and bathed it so softly and + soothingly that the child soon became composed; and the mother discovered + the artist at once. He compressed the wound, and explained to Mrs. Lucas + that the principal thing really was to avoid an ugly scar. “There is no + danger,” said he. He then bound the wound neatly up, and had the girl put + to bed. “You will not wake her at any particular hour, nurse. Let her + sleep. Have a little strong beef-tea ready, and give it her at any hour, + night or day, she asks for it. But do not force it on her, or you will do + her more harm than good. She had better sleep before she eats.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lucas begged him to come every morning; and, as he was going, she + shook hands with him, and the soft palm deposited a hard substance wrapped + in paper. He took it with professional gravity and seeming + unconsciousness; but, once outside the house, went home on wings. He ran + up to the drawing-room, and found his wife seated, and playing at reading. + He threw himself on his knees, and the fee into her lap; and, while she + unfolded the paper with an ejaculation of pleasure, he said, “Darling, the + first real patient—the first real fee. It is yours to buy the new + bonnet.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'm so glad!” said she, with her eyes glistening. “But I'm afraid one + can't get a bonnet fit to wear—for a guinea.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Staines visited his little patient every day, and received his guinea. + Mrs. Lucas also called him in for her own little ailments, and they were + the best possible kind of ailments: for, being imaginary, there was no + limit to them. + </p> + <p> + Then did Mrs. Staines turn jealous of her husband. “They never ask me,” + said she; “and I am moped to death.” + </p> + <p> + “It is hard,” said Christopher, sadly. “But have a little patience. + Society will come to you long before practice comes to me.” + </p> + <p> + About two o'clock one afternoon a carriage and pair drove up, and a + gorgeous footman delivered a card—“Lady Cicely Treherne.” + </p> + <p> + Of course Mrs. Staines was at home, and only withheld by propriety from + bounding into the passage to meet her school-fellow. However, she composed + herself in the drawing-room, and presently the door was opened, and a very + tall young woman, richly but not gayly dressed, drifted into the room, and + stood there a statue of composure. + </p> + <p> + Rosa had risen to fly to her; but the reverence a girl of eighteen strikes + into a child of twelve hung about her still, and she came timidly forward, + blushing and sparkling, a curious contrast in color and mind to her + visitor; for Lady Cicely was Languor in person—her hair + whitey-brown, her face a fine oval, but almost colorless; her eyes a pale + gray, her neck and hands incomparably white and beautiful—a + lymphatic young lady, a live antidote to emotion. However, Rosa's beauty, + timidity, and undisguised affectionateness were something so different + from what she was used to in the world of fashion, that she actually + smiled, and held out both her hands a little way. Rosa seized them, and + pressed them; they left her; and remained passive and limp. + </p> + <p> + “O Lady Cicely,” said Rosa, “how kind of you to come.” + </p> + <p> + “How kind of you to send to me,” was the polite, but perfectly cool reply. + “But how you are gwown, and—may I say impwoved?—You la petite + Lusignan! It is incwedible,” lisped her ladyship, very calmly. + </p> + <p> + “I was only a child,” said Rosa. “You were always so beautiful and tall, + and kind to a little monkey like me. Oh, pray sit down, Lady Cicely, and + talk of old times.” + </p> + <p> + She drew her gently to the sofa, and they sat down hand in hand; but Lady + Cicely's high-bred reserve made her a very poor gossip about anything that + touched herself and her family; so Rosa, though no egotist, was drawn into + talking about herself more than she would have done had she deliberately + planned the conversation. But here was an old school-fellow, and a + singularly polite listener, and so out came her love, her genuine + happiness, her particular griefs, and especially the crowning grievance, + no society, moped to death, etc. + </p> + <p> + Lady Cicely could hardly understand the sentiment in a woman who so + evidently loved her husband. “Society!” said she, after due reflection, + “why, it is a boa.” (And here I may as well explain that Lady Cicely spoke + certain words falsely, and others affectedly; and as for the letter r, she + could say it if she made a hearty effort, but was generally too lazy to + throw her leg over it.) “Society! I'm dwenched to death with it. If I + could only catch fiah like other women, and love somebody, I would much + rather have a tete-a-tete with him than go teawing about all day and all + night, from one unintwisting cwowd to another. To be sure,” said she, + puzzling the matter out, “you are a beauty, and would be more looked at.” + </p> + <p> + “The idea! and—oh no! no! it is not that. But even in the country we + had always some society.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, dyar, believe me, with your appeawance, you can have as much + society as you please; but it will boa you to death, as it does me, and + then you will long to be left quiet with a sensible man who loves you.” + </p> + <p> + Said Rosa, “When shall I have another tete-a-tete with YOU, I wonder? Oh, + it has been such a comfort to me. Bless you for coming. There—I + wrote to Cecilia, and Emily, and Mrs. Bosanquet that is now, and all my + sworn friends, and to think of you being the one to come—you that + never kissed me but once, and an earl's daughter into the bargain.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! ha! ha!”—Lady Cicely actually laughed for once in a way, and + did not feel the effort. “As for kissing,” said she, “if I fall shawt, + fawgive me. I was nevaa vewy demonstwative.” + </p> + <p> + “No; and I have had a lesson. That Florence Cole—Florence Whiting + that was, you know—was always kissing me, and she has turned out a + traitor. I'll tell you all about her.” And she did. + </p> + <p> + Lady Cicely thought Mrs. Staines a little too unreserved in her + conversation; but was so charmed with her sweetness and freshness that she + kept up the acquaintance, and called on her twice a week during the + season. At first she wondered that her visits were not returned; but Rosa + let out that she was ashamed to call on foot in Grosvenor Square. + </p> + <p> + Lady Cicely shrugged her beautiful shoulders a little at that; but she + continued to do the visiting, and to enjoy the simple, innocent rapture + with which she was received. + </p> + <p> + This lady's pronunciation of many words was false or affected. She said + “good murning” for “good morning,” and turned other vowels to diphthongs, + and played two or three pranks with her “r's.” But we cannot be all + imperfection: with her pronunciation her folly came to a full stop. I + really believe she lisped less nonsense and bad taste in a year than some + of us articulate in a day. To be sure, folly is generally uttered in a + hurry, and she was too deplorably lazy to speak fast on any occasion + whatever. + </p> + <p> + One day Mrs. Staines took her up-stairs, and showed her from the back + window her husband pacing the yard, waiting for patients. Lady Cicely + folded her arms, and contemplated him at first with a sort of zoological + curiosity. Gentleman pacing back yard, like hyena, she had never seen + before. + </p> + <p> + At last she opened her mouth in a whisper, “What is he doing?” + </p> + <p> + “Waiting for patients.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Waiting—for—patients?” + </p> + <p> + “For patients that never come, and never will come.” + </p> + <p> + “Cuwious! How little I know of life.” + </p> + <p> + “It is that all day, dear, or else writing.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Cicely, with her eyes fixed on Staines, made a motion with her hand + that she was attending. + </p> + <p> + “And they won't publish a word he writes.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor man!” + </p> + <p> + “Nice for me; is it not?” + </p> + <p> + “I begin to understand,” said Lady Cicely quietly; and soon after retired + with her invariable composure. + </p> + <p> + Meantime, Dr. Staines, like a good husband, had thrown out occasional + hints to Mrs. Lucas that he had a wife, beautiful, accomplished, moped. + More than that, he went so far as to regret to her that Mrs. Staines, + being in a neighborhood new to him, saw so little society; the more so, as + she was formed to shine, and had not been used to seclusion. + </p> + <p> + All these hints fell dead on Mrs. Lucas. A handsome and skilful doctor was + welcome to her: his wife—that was quite another matter. + </p> + <p> + But one day Mrs. Lucas saw Lady Cicely Treherne's carriage standing at the + door. The style of the whole turnout impressed her. She wondered whose it + was. + </p> + <p> + On another occasion she saw it drive up, and the lady get out. She + recognized her; and the very next day this parvenue said adroitly, “Now, + Dr. Staines, really you can't be allowed to hide your wife in this way. + (Staines stared.) Why not introduce her to me next Wednesday? It is my + night. I would give a dinner expressly for her; but I don't like to do + that while my husband is in Naples.” + </p> + <p> + When Staines carried the invitation to his wife, she was delighted, and + kissed him with childish frankness. + </p> + <p> + But the very next moment she became thoughtful, uneasy, depressed. “Oh, + dear; I've nothing to wear.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nonsense, Rosa. Your wedding outfit.” + </p> + <p> + “The idea! I can't go as a bride. It's not a masquerade.” + </p> + <p> + “But you have other dresses.” + </p> + <p> + “All gone by, more or less; or not fit for such parties as SHE gives. A + hundred carriages!” + </p> + <p> + “Bring them down, and let me see them.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes.” And the lady, who had nothing to wear, paraded a very fair show + of dresses. + </p> + <p> + Staines saw something to admire in all of them. Mrs. Staines found more to + object to in each. + </p> + <p> + At last he fell upon a silver-gray silk, of superlative quality. + </p> + <p> + “That! It is as old as the hills,” shrieked Rosa. + </p> + <p> + “It looks just out of the shop. Come, tell the truth; how often have you + worn it?” + </p> + <p> + “I wore it before I was married.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, but how often?” + </p> + <p> + “Twice. Three times, I believe.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought so. It is good as new.” + </p> + <p> + “But I have had it so long by me. I had it two years before I made it up.” + </p> + <p> + “What does that matter? Do you think the people can tell how long a dress + has been lurking in your wardrobe? This is childish, Rosa. There, with + this dress as good as new, and your beauty, you will be as much admired, + and perhaps hated, as your heart can desire.” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid not,” said Rosa naively. “Oh, how I wish I had known a week + ago.” + </p> + <p> + “I am very thankful you did not,” said Staines dryly. + </p> + <p> + At ten o'clock Mrs. Staines was nearly dressed; at a quarter past ten she + demanded ten minutes; at half-past ten she sought a reprieve; at a quarter + to eleven, being assured that the street was full of carriages, which had + put down at Mrs. Lucas's, she consented to emerge; and in a minute they + were at the house. + </p> + <p> + They were shown first into a cloak-room, and then into a tea-room, and + then mounted the stairs. One servant took their names, and bawled them to + another four yards off, he to another about as near, and so on; and they + edged themselves into the room, not yet too crowded to move in. + </p> + <p> + They had not taken many steps, on the chance of finding their hostess, + when a slight buzz arose, and seemed to follow them. + </p> + <p> + Rosa wondered what that was; but only for a moment; she observed a tall, + stout, aquiline woman fix an eye of bitter, diabolical, malignant hatred + on her; and as she advanced, ugly noses were cocked disdainfully, and + scraggy shoulders elevated at the risk of sending the bones through the + leather, and a titter or two shot after her. A woman's instinct gave her + the key at once; the sexes had complimented her at sight; each in their + way; the men with respectful admiration; the women, with their inflammable + jealousy and ready hatred in another of the quality they value most in + themselves. But the country girl was too many for them: she would neither + see nor bear, but moved sedately on, and calmly crushed them with her + Southern beauty. Their dry, powdered faces could not live by the side of + her glowing skin, with nature's delicate gloss upon it, and the rich blood + mantling below it. The got-up beauties, i.e., the majority, seemed + literally to fade and wither as she passed. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lucas got to her, suppressed a slight maternal pang, having daughters + to marry, and took her line in a moment; here was a decoy duck. Mrs. Lucas + was all graciousness, made acquaintance, and took a little turn with her, + introducing her to one or two persons; among the rest, to the malignant + woman, Mrs. Barr. Mrs. Barr, on this, ceased to look daggers and + substituted icicles; but on the hateful beauty moving away, dropped the + icicles, and resumed the poniards. + </p> + <p> + The rooms filled; the heat became oppressive, and the mixed odors of + flowers, scents, and perspiring humanity, sickening. Some, unable to bear + it, trickled out of the room, and sat all down the stairs. + </p> + <p> + Rosa began to feel faint. Up came a tall, sprightly girl, whose pertness + was redeemed by a certain bonhomie, and said, “Mrs. Staines, I believe? I + am to make myself agreeable to you. That is the order from headquarters.” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Lucas,” said Staines. + </p> + <p> + She jerked a little off-hand bow to him, and said, “Will you trust her to + me for five minutes?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly.” But he did not much like it. + </p> + <p> + Miss Lucas carried her off, and told Dr. Staines, over her shoulder, now + he could flirt to his heart's content. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said he dryly. “I'll await your return.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, there are some much greater flirts here than I am,” said the ready + Miss Lucas; and whispering something in Mrs. Staines's ear, suddenly + glided with her behind a curtain, pressed a sort of button fixed to a + looking-glass door. The door opened, and behold they were in a delicious + place, for which I can hardly find a word, since it was a boudoir and a + conservatory in one: a large octagon, the walls lined from floor to + ceiling with looking-glasses of moderate width, at intervals, and with + creepers that covered the intervening spaces of the wall, and were trained + so as to break the outline of the glasses without greatly clouding the + reflection. Ferns, in great variety, were grouped in a deep crescent, and + in the bight of this green bay were a small table and chairs. As there + were no hot-house plants, the temperature was very cool, compared with the + reeking oven they had escaped; and a little fountain bubbled, and fed a + little meandering gutter that trickled away among the ferns; it ran + crystal clear over little bright pebbles and shells. It did not always + run, you understand; but Miss Lucas turned a secret tap, and started it. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how heavenly!” said Rosa, with a sigh of relief; “and how good of you + to bring me here!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; by rights I ought to have waited till you fainted. But there is no + making acquaintance among all those people. Mamma will ask such crowds; + one is like a fly in a glue-pot.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Lucas had good nature, smartness, and animal spirits; hence arose a + vivacity and fluency that were often amusing, and passed for very clever. + Reserve she had none; would talk about strangers, or friends, herself, her + mother, her God, and the last buffoon-singer, in a breath. At a hint from + Rosa, she told her who the lady in the pink dress was, and the lady in the + violet velvet, and so on; for each lady was defined by her dress, and, + more or less, quizzed by this show-woman, not exactly out of malice, but + because it is smarter and more natural to decry than to praise, and a + little medisance is the spice to gossip, belongs to it, as mint sauce to + lamb. So they chatted away, and were pleased with each other, and made + friends, and there, in cool grot, quite forgot the sufferings of their + fellow-creatures in the adjacent Turkish bath, yclept society. It was Rosa + who first recollected herself. “Will not Mrs. Lucas be angry with me, if I + keep you all to myself?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh no; but I'm afraid we must go into the hot-house again. I like the + greenhouse best, with such a nice companion.” + </p> + <p> + They slipped noiselessly into the throng again, and wriggled about, Miss + Lucas presenting her new friend to several ladies and gentlemen. + </p> + <p> + Presently Staines found them, and then Miss Lucas wriggled away; and in + due course the room was thinned by many guests driving off home, or to + balls, and other receptions, and Dr. Staines and Mrs. Staines went home to + the Bijou. Here the physician prescribed bed; but the lady would not hear + of such a thing until she had talked it all over. So they compared notes, + and Rosa told him how well she had got on with Miss Lucas, and made a + friendship. “But for that,” said she, “I should be sorry I went among + those people, such a dowdy.” + </p> + <p> + “Dowdy!” said Staines. “Why, you stormed the town; you were the great + success of the night, and, for all I know, of the season.” The wretch + delivered this with unbecoming indifference. + </p> + <p> + “It is too bad to mock me, Christie. Where were your eyes?” + </p> + <p> + “To the best of my recollection, they were one on each side of my nose.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but some people are eyes and no eyes.” + </p> + <p> + “I scorn the imputation; try me.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well. Then did you see that lady in sky-blue silk, embroidered with + flowers, and flounced with white velvet, and the corsage point lace; and + oh, such emeralds?” + </p> + <p> + “I did; a tall, skinny woman, with eyes resembling her jewels in color, + though not in brightness.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind her eyes; it is her dress I am speaking of. Exquisite; and + what a coiffure! Well, did you see HER in the black velvet, trimmed so + deep with Chantilly lace, wave on wave, and her head-dress of crimson + flowers, and such a riviere of diamonds; oh, dear! oh, dear!” + </p> + <p> + “I did, love. The room was an oven, but her rubicund face and suffocating + costume made it seem a furnace.” + </p> + <p> + “Stuff! Well, did you see the lady in the corn-colored silk, and poppies + in her hair?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I did. Ceres in person. She made me feel hot, too; but I cooled + myself a bit at her pale, sickly face.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind their faces; that is not the point.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, excuse me; it is always a point with us benighted males, all eyes and + no eyes.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, the lady in white, with cherry-velvet bands, and a white + tunic looped with crimson, and headdress of white illusion, a la vierge, I + think they call it.” + </p> + <p> + “It was very refreshing; and adapted to that awful atmosphere. It was the + nearest approach to nudity I ever saw, even amongst fashionable people.” + </p> + <p> + “It was lovely; and then that superb figure in white illusion and gold, + with all those narrow flounces over her slip of white silk glacee, and a + wreath of white flowers, with gold wheat ears amongst them, in her hair; + and oh! oh! oh! her pearls, oriental, and as big as almonds!” + </p> + <p> + “And oh! oh! oh! her nose! reddish, and as long as a woodcock's.” + </p> + <p> + “Noses! noses! stupid! That is not what strikes you first in a woman + dressed like an angel.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, if you were to run up against that one, as I nearly did, her nose + WOULD be the thing that would strike you first. Nose! it was a rostrum! + the spear-head of Goliah.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, don't, Christopher. This is no laughing matter. Do you mean you were + not ashamed of your wife? I was.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I was not; you had but one rival; a very young lady, wise before her + age; a blonde, with violet eyes. She was dressed in light mauve-colored + silk, without a single flounce, or any other tomfoolery to fritter away + the sheen and color of an exquisite material; her sunny hair was another + wave of color, wreathed with a thin line of white jessamine flowers + closely woven, that scented the air. This girl was the moon of that + assembly, and you were the sun.” + </p> + <p> + “I never even saw her.” + </p> + <p> + “Eyes and no eyes. She saw you, and said, 'Oh, what a beautiful creature!' + for I heard her. As for the old stagers, whom you admire so, their faces + were all clogged with powder, the pores stopped up, the true texture of + the skin abolished. They looked downright nasty, whenever you or that + young girl passed by them. Then it was you saw to what a frightful extent + women are got up in our day, even young women, and respectable women. No, + Rosa, dress can do little for you; you have beauty—real beauty.” + </p> + <p> + “Beauty! That passes unnoticed, unless one is well dressed.” + </p> + <p> + “Then what an obscure pair the Apollo Belvidere and the Venus de Medicis + must be.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! they are dressed—in marble.” + </p> + <p> + Christopher Staines stared first, then smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Well done,” said he, admiringly. “That IS a knockdown blow. So now you + have silenced your husband, go you to bed directly. I can't afford you + diamonds; so I will take care of that little insignificant trifle, your + beauty.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Staines and Mrs. Lucas exchanged calls, and soon Mrs. Staines could + no longer complain she was out of the world. Mrs. Lucas invited her to + every party, because her beauty was an instrument of attraction she knew + how to use; and Miss Lucas took a downright fancy to her; drove her in the + park, and on Sundays to the Zoological Gardens, just beginning to be + fashionable. + </p> + <p> + The Lucases rented a box at the opera, and if it was not let at the + library by six o'clock, and if other engagements permitted, word was sent + round to Mrs. Staines, as a matter of course, and she was taken to the + opera. She began almost to live at the Lucases, and to be oftener fatigued + than moped. + </p> + <p> + The usual order of things was inverted; the maiden lady educated the + matron; for Miss Lucas knew all about everybody in the Park, honorable or + dishonorable; all the scandals, and all the flirtations; and whatever she + knew, she related point-blank. Being as inquisitive as voluble, she soon + learned how Mrs. Staines and her husband were situated. She took upon her + to advise her in many things, and especially impressed upon her that Dr. + Staines must keep a carriage, if he wanted to get on in medicine. The + piece of advice accorded so well with Rosa's wishes, that she urged it on + her husband again and again. + </p> + <p> + He objected that no money was coming in, and therefore it would be insane + to add to their expenses. Rosa persisted, and at last worried Staines with + her importunity. He began to give rather short answers. Then she quoted + Miss Lucas against him. He treated the authority with marked contempt; and + then Rosa fired up a little. Then Staines held his peace; but did not buy + a carriage to visit his no patients. + </p> + <p> + So at last Rosa complained to Lady Cicely Treherne, and made her the judge + between her husband and herself. Lady Cicely drawled out a prompt but + polite refusal to play that part. All that could be elicited from her, and + that with difficulty, was, “Why quall with your husband about a cawwige; + he is your best fwiend.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, that he is,” said Rosa; “but Miss Lucas is a good friend, and she + knows the world. We don't; neither Christopher nor I.” + </p> + <p> + So she continued to nag at her husband about it, and to say that he was + throwing his only chance away. + </p> + <p> + Galled as he was by neglect, this was irritating, and at last he could not + help telling her she was unreasonable. “You live a gay life, and I a sad + one. I consent to this, and let you go about with these Lucases, because + you were so dull; but you should not consult them in our private affairs. + Their interference is indelicate and improper. I will not set up a + carriage till I have patients to visit. I am sick of seeing our capital + dwindle, and no income created. I will never set up a carriage till I have + taken a hundred-guinea fee.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Then we shall go splashing through the mud all our days.” + </p> + <p> + “Or ride in a cab,” said Christopher, with a quiet doggedness that left no + hope of his yielding. + </p> + <p> + One afternoon Miss Lucas called for Mrs. Staines to drive in the Park, but + did not come up-stairs; it was an engagement, and she knew Mrs. Staines + would be ready, or nearly. Mrs. Staines, not to keep her waiting, came + down rather hastily, and in the very passage whipped out of her pocket a + little glass, and a little powder puff, and puffed her face all over in a + trice. She was then going out; but her husband called her into the study. + “Rosa, my dear,” said he, “you were going out with a dirty face.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” cried she, “give me a glass.” + </p> + <p> + “There is no need of that. All you want is a basin and some nice + rain-water. I keep a little reservoir of it.” + </p> + <p> + He then handed her the same with great politeness. She looked in his eye, + and saw he was not to be trifled with. She complied like a lamb, and the + heavenly color and velvet gloss that resulted were admirable. + </p> + <p> + He kissed her and said, “Ah! now you are my Rosa again. Oblige me by + handing over that powder-puff to me.” She looked vexed, but complied. + “When you come back I will tell you why.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a pest,” said Mrs. Staines, and so joined her friend, rosy with + rain-water and a rub. + </p> + <p> + “Dear me, how handsome you look to-day!” was Miss Lucas's first remark. + </p> + <p> + Rosa never dreamed that rain-water and rub could be the cause of her + looking so well. + </p> + <p> + “It is my tiresome husband,” said she. “He objects to powder, and he has + taken away my puff.” + </p> + <p> + “And you stood that?” + </p> + <p> + “Obliged to.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, you poor-spirited little creature, I should like to see a husband + presume to interfere with me in those things. Here, take mine.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa hesitated a little. “Well—no—I think not.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Lucas laughed at her, and quizzed her so on her allowing a man to + interfere in such sacred things as dress and cosmetics, that she came back + irritated with her husband, and gave him a short answer or two. Then he + asked what was the matter. + </p> + <p> + “You treat me like a child—taking away my very puff.” + </p> + <p> + “I treat you like a beautiful flower, that no bad gardener shall wither + whilst I am here.” + </p> + <p> + “What nonsense! How could that wither me? It is only violet powder—what + they put on babies.” + </p> + <p> + “And who are the Herods that put it on babies?” + </p> + <p> + “Their own mothers, that love them ten times more than the fathers do.” + </p> + <p> + “And kill a hundred of them for one a man ever kills. Mothers!—the + most wholesale homicides in the nation. We will examine your + violet-powder: bring it down here.” + </p> + <p> + While she was gone he sent for a breakfast-cupful of flour, and when she + came back he had his scales out, and begged her to put a teaspoonful of + flour into one scale and of violet powder into another. The flour kicked + the beam, as Homer expresses himself. + </p> + <p> + “Put another spoonful of flour.” + </p> + <p> + The one spoonful of violet powder outweighed the two of flour. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said Staines, “does not that show you the presence of a mineral in + your vegetable powder? I suppose they tell you it is made of white violets + dried, and triturated in a diamond mill. Let us find out what metal it is. + We need not go very deep into chemistry for that.” He then applied a + simple test, and detected the presence of lead in large quantities. Then + he lectured her: “Invisible perspiration is a process of nature necessary + to health and to life. The skin is made porous for that purpose. You can + kill anybody in an hour or two by closing the pores. A certain infallible + ass, called Pope Leo XII., killed a little boy in two hours, by gilding + him to adorn the pageant of his first procession as Pope. But what is + death to the whole body must be injurious to a part. What madness, then, + to clog the pores of so large and important a surface as the face, and + check the invisible perspiration: how much more to insert lead into your + system every day of your life; a cumulative poison, and one so deadly and + so subtle, that the Sheffield file-cutters die in their prime, from merely + hammering on a leaden anvil. And what do you gain by this suicidal habit? + No plum has a sweeter bloom or more delicious texture than the skin of + your young face; but this mineral filth hides that delicate texture, and + substitutes a dry, uniform appearance, more like a certain kind of leprosy + than health. Nature made your face the rival of peaches, roses, lilies; + and you say, 'No; I know better than my Creator and my God; my face shall + be like a dusty miller's.' Go into any flour-mill, and there you shall see + men with faces exactly like your friend Miss Lucas's. But before a miller + goes to his sweetheart, he always washes his face. You ladies would never + get a miller down to your level in brains. It is a miller's DIRTY face our + mono-maniacs of woman imitate, not the face a miller goes a-courting + with.” + </p> + <p> + “La! what a fuss about nothing!” + </p> + <p> + “About nothing! Is your health nothing? Is your beauty nothing? Well, + then, it will cost you nothing to promise me never to put powder on your + face again.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, I promise. Now what will you do for me?” + </p> + <p> + “Work for you—write for you—suffer for you—be + self-denying for you—and even give myself the pain of disappointing + you now and then—looking forward to the time when I shall be able to + say 'Yes' to everything you ask me. Ah! child, you little know what it + costs me to say 'No' to YOU.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa put her arms round him and acquiesced. She was one of those who go + with the last speaker; but, for that very reason, the eternal + companionship of so flighty and flirty a girl as Miss Lucas was injurious + to her. + </p> + <p> + One day Lady Cicely Treherne was sitting with Mrs. Staines, smiling + languidly at her talk, and occasionally drawling out a little plain good + sense, when in came Miss Lucas, with her tongue well hung, as usual, and + dashed into twenty topics in ten minutes. + </p> + <p> + This young lady in her discourse was like those little oily beetles you + see in small ponds, whose whole life is spent in tacking—confound + them for it!—generally at right angles. What they are in navigation + was Miss Lucas in conversation: tacked so eternally from topic to topic, + that no man on earth, and not every woman, could follow her. + </p> + <p> + At the sight and sound of her, Lady Cicely congealed and stiffened. Easy + and unpretending with Mrs. Staines, she was all dignity, and even majesty, + in the presence of this chatterbox; and the smoothness with which the + transfiguration was accomplished marked that accomplished actress the + high-bred woman of the world. + </p> + <p> + Rosa, better able to estimate the change of manner than Miss Lucas was, + who did not know how little this Sawny was afflicted with misplaced + dignity, looked wistfully and distressed at her. Lady Cicely smiled kindly + in reply, rose, without seeming to hurry,—catch her condescending to + be rude to Charlotte Lucas,—and took her departure, with a profound + and most gracious courtesy to the lady who had driven her away. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Staines saw her down-stairs, and said, ruefully, “I am afraid you do + not like my friend Miss Lucas. She is a great rattle, but so good-natured + and clever.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Cicely shook her head. “Clevaa people don't talk so much nonsense + before strangaas.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear!” said Rosa. “I was in hopes you would like her.” + </p> + <p> + “Do YOU like her?” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed I do; but I shall not, if she drives an older friend away.” + </p> + <p> + “My dyah, I'm not easily dwiven from those I esteem. But you undastand + that is not a woman for me to mispwonownce my 'ah's befaw—NOR FOR + YOU TO MAKE A BOSOM FWIEND OF—WOSA STAINES.” + </p> + <p> + She said this with a sudden maternal solemnity and kindness that + contrasted nobly and strangely with her yea-nay style, and Mrs. Staines + remembered the words years after they were spoken. + </p> + <p> + It so happened that after this Mrs. Staines received no more visits from + Lady Cicely for some time, and that vexed her. She knew her sex enough to + be aware that they are very jealous, and she permitted herself to think + that this high-minded Sawny was jealous of Miss Lucas. + </p> + <p> + This idea, founded on a general estimate of her sex, was dispelled by a + few lines from Lady Cicely, to say her family and herself were in deep + distress; her brother, Lord Ayscough, lay dying from an accident. + </p> + <p> + Then Rosa was all remorse, and ran down to Staines to tell him. She found + him with an open letter in his hand. It was from Dr. Barr, and on the same + subject. The doctor, who had always been friendly to him, invited him to + come down at once to Hallowtree Hall, in Huntingdonshire, to a + consultation. There was a friendly intimation to start at once, as the + patient might die any moment. + </p> + <p> + Husband and wife embraced each other in a tumult of surprised + thankfulness. A few necessaries were thrown into a carpet-bag, and Dr. + Staines was soon whirled into Huntingdonshire. Having telegraphed + beforehand, he was met at the station by the earl's carriage and people, + and driven to the Hall. He was received by an old, silver-haired butler, + looking very sad, who conducted him to a boudoir; and then went and tapped + gently at the door of the patient's room. It was opened and shut very + softly, and Lady Cicely, dressed in black, and looking paler than ever, + came into the room. + </p> + <p> + “Dr. Staines, I think?” + </p> + <p> + He bowed. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you for coming so promptly. Dr. Barr is gone. I fear he thinks—he + thinks—O Dr. Staines—no sign of life but in his poor hands, + that keep moving night and day.” + </p> + <p> + Staines looked very grave at that. Lady Cicely observed it, and, faint at + heart, could say no more, but led the way to the sick-room. + </p> + <p> + There in a spacious chamber, lighted by a grand oriel window and two side + windows, lay rank, title, wealth, and youth, stricken down in a moment by + a common accident. The sufferer's face was bloodless, his eyes fixed, and + no signs of life but in his thumbs, and they kept working with strange + regularity. + </p> + <p> + In the room were a nurse and the surgeon; the neighboring physician, who + had called in Dr. Barr, had just paid his visit and gone away. + </p> + <p> + Lady Cicely introduced Dr. Staines and Mr. White, and then Dr. Staines + stood and fixed his eyes on the patient in profound silence. Lady Cicely + scanned his countenance searchingly, and was struck with the extraordinary + power and intensity it assumed in examining the patient; but the result + was not encouraging. Dr. Staines looked grave and gloomy. + </p> + <p> + At last, without removing his eye from the recumbent figure, he said + quietly to Mr. White, “Thrown from his horse, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Horse fell on him, Dr. Staines.” + </p> + <p> + “Any visible injuries?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Severe contusions, and a rib broken and pressed upon the lungs. I + replaced and set it. Will you see?” + </p> + <p> + “If you please.” + </p> + <p> + He examined and felt the patient, and said it had been ably done. + </p> + <p> + Then he was silent and searching. + </p> + <p> + At last he spoke again. “The motion of the thumbs corresponds exactly with + his pulse.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that so, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “It is. The case is without a parallel. How long has he been so?” + </p> + <p> + “Nearly a week.” + </p> + <p> + “Impossible!” + </p> + <p> + “It is so, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Cicely confirmed this. + </p> + <p> + “All the better,” said Dr. Staines upon reflection. “Well, sir,” said he, + “the visible injuries having been ably relieved, I shall look another way + for the cause.” Then, after another pause, “I must have his head shaved.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Cicely demurred a little to this; but Dr. Staines stood firm, and his + lordship's valet undertook the job. + </p> + <p> + Staines directed him where to begin; and when he had made a circular + tonsure on the top of the head, had it sponged with tepid water. + </p> + <p> + “I thought so,” said he. “Here is the mischief;” and he pointed to a very + slight indentation on the left side of the pia mater. “Observe,” said he, + “there is no corresponding indentation on the other side. Underneath this + trifling depression a minute piece of bone is doubtless pressing on the + most sensitive part of the brain. He must be trephined.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. White's eyes sparkled. + </p> + <p> + “You are an hospital surgeon, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Dr. Staines. I have no fear of the operation.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I hand the patient over to you. The case at present is entirely + surgical.” + </p> + <p> + White was driven home, and soon returned with the requisite instruments. + The operation was neatly performed, and then Lady Cicely was called in. + She came trembling; her brother's fingers were still working, but not so + regularly. + </p> + <p> + “That is only HABIT,” said Staines; “it will soon leave off, now the cause + is gone.” + </p> + <p> + And, truly enough, in about five minutes the fingers became quiet. The + eyes became human next; and within half an hour after the operation the + earl gave a little sigh. + </p> + <p> + Lady Cicely clasped her hands, and uttered a little cry of delight. + </p> + <p> + “This will not do,” said Staines, “I shall have you screaming when he + speaks.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Dr. Staines! will he ever speak?” + </p> + <p> + “I think so, and very soon. So be on your guard.” + </p> + <p> + This strange scene reached its climax soon after, by the earl saying, + quietly,— + </p> + <p> + “Are her knees broke, Tom?” + </p> + <p> + Lady Cicely uttered a little scream, but instantly suppressed it. + </p> + <p> + “No, my lord,” said Staines, smartly; “only rubbed a bit. You can go to + sleep, my lord. I'll take care of the mare.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said his lordship; and composed himself to slumber. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Staines, at the earnest request of Lady Cicely, stayed all night; and + in course of the day advised her how to nurse the patient, since both + physician and surgeon had done with him. + </p> + <p> + He said the patient's brain might be irritable for some days, and no women + in silk dresses or crinoline, or creaking shoes, must enter the room. He + told her the nurse was evidently a clumsy woman, and would be letting + things fall. She had better get some old soldier used to nursing. “And + don't whisper in the room,” said he; “nothing irritates them worse; and + don't let anybody play a piano within hearing; but in a day or two you may + try him with slow and continuous music on the flute or violin if you like. + Don't touch his bed suddenly; don't sit on it or lean on it. Dole sunlight + into his room by degrees; and when he can bear it, drench him with it. + Never mind what the old school tell you. About these things they know a + good deal less than nothing.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Cicely received all this like an oracle. + </p> + <p> + The cure was telegraphed to Dr. Barr, and he was requested to settle the + fee. He was not the man to undersell the profession, and was jealous of + nobody, having a large practice, and a very wealthy wife. So he + telegraphed back—“Fifty guineas, and a guinea a mile from London.” + </p> + <p> + So, as Christopher Staines sat at an early breakfast, with the carriage + waiting to take him to the train, two notes were brought him on a salver. + </p> + <p> + They were both directed by Lady Cicely Treherne. One of them contained a + few kind and feeling words of gratitude and esteem; the other, a check, + drawn by the earl's steward, for one hundred and thirty guineas. + </p> + <p> + He bowled up to London, and told it all to Rosa. She sparkled with pride, + affection, and joy. + </p> + <p> + “Now, who says you are not a genius?” she cried. “A hundred and thirty + guineas for one fee! Now, if you love your wife as she loves you—you + will set up a brougham.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII. + </h2> + <p> + Doctor Staines begged leave to distinguish; he had not said he would set + up a carriage at the first one hundred guinea fee, but only that he would + not set up one before. There are misguided people who would call this + logic: but Rosa said it was equivocating, and urged him so warmly that at + last he burst out, “Who can go on forever saying 'No,' to the only + creature he loves?”—and caved. In forty-eight hours more a brougham + waited at Mrs. Staines's door. The servant engaged to drive it was Andrew + Pearman, a bachelor, and, hitherto, an under-groom. He readily consented + to be coachman, and to do certain domestic work as well. So Mrs. Staines + had a man-servant as well as a carriage. + </p> + <p> + Ere long, three or four patients called, or wrote, one after the other. + These Rosa set down to brougham, and crowed; she even crowed to Lady + Cicely Treherne, to whose influence, and not to brougham's, every one of + these patients was owing. Lady Cicely kissed her, and demurely enjoyed the + poor soul's self-satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + Staines himself, while he drove to or from these patients, felt more + sanguine, and buoyed as he was by the consciousness of ability, began to + hope he had turned the corner. + </p> + <p> + He sent an account of Lord Ayscough's case to a medical magazine: and so + full is the world of flunkeyism, that this article, though he withheld the + name, retaining only the title, got the literary wedge in for him at once: + and in due course he became a paid contributor to two medical organs, and + used to study and write more, and indent the little stone yard less than + heretofore. + </p> + <p> + It was about this time circumstances made him acquainted with Phoebe Dale. + Her intermediate history I will dispose of in fewer words than it + deserves. Her ruin, Mr. Reginald Falcon, was dismissed from his club, for + marking high cards on the back with his nail. This stopped his remaining + resource—borrowing: so he got more and more out at elbows, till at + last he came down to hanging about billiard-rooms, and making a little + money by concealing his game; from that, however, he rose to be a marker. + </p> + <p> + Having culminated to that, he wrote and proposed marriage to Miss Dale, in + a charming letter: she showed it to her father with pride. + </p> + <p> + Now, if his vanity, his disloyalty, his falsehood, his ingratitude, and + his other virtues had not stood in the way, he would have done this three + years ago, and been jumped at. + </p> + <p> + But the offer came too late; not for Phoebe—she would have taken him + in a moment—but for her friends. A baited hook is one thing, a bare + hook is another. Farmer Dale had long discovered where Phoebe's money + went: he said not a word to her; but went up to town like a shot; found + Falcon out, and told him he mustn't think to eat his daughter's bread. She + should marry a man that could make a decent livelihood; and if she was to + run away with HIM, why they'd starve together. The farmer was resolute, + and spoke very loud, like one that expects opposition, and comes prepared + to quarrel. Instead of that, this artful rogue addressed him with deep + respect and an affected veneration, that quite puzzled the old man; + acquiesced in every word, expressed contrition for his past misdeeds, and + told the farmer he had quite determined to labor with his hands. “You + know, farmer,” said he, “I am not the only gentleman who has come to that + in the present day. Now, all my friends that have seen my sketches, assure + me I am a born painter; and a painter I'll be—for love of Phoebe.” + </p> + <p> + The farmer made a wry face. “Painter! that is a sorry sort of a trade.” + </p> + <p> + “You are mistaken. It's the best trade going. There are gentlemen making + their thousands a year by it.” + </p> + <p> + “Not in our parts, there bain't. Stop a bit. What be ye going to paint, + sir? Housen, or folk?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, hang it, not houses. Figures, landscapes.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, ye might just make shift to live at it, I suppose, with here and + there a signboard. They are the best paid, our way: but, Lord bless ye, + THEY wants headpiece. Well, sir, let me see your work. Then we'll talk + further.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll go to work this afternoon,” said Falcon eagerly; then with affected + surprise, “Bless me; I forgot. I have no palette, no canvas, no colors. + You couldn't lend me a couple of sovereigns to buy them, could you?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, sir; I could. But I woan't. I'll lend ye the things, though, if you + have a mind to go with me and buy 'em.” + </p> + <p> + Falcon agreed, with a lofty smile; and the purchases were made. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Falcon painted a landscape or two out of his imagination. The dealers + to whom he took them declined them; one advised the gentleman painter to + color tea-boards. “That's your line,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “The world has no taste,” said the gentleman painter: “but it has got lots + of vanity: I'll paint portraits.” + </p> + <p> + He did; and formidable ones: his portraits were amazingly like the people, + and yet unlike men and women, especially about the face. One thing, he + didn't trouble with lights and shades, but went slap at the features. + </p> + <p> + His brush would never have kept him; but he carried an instrument, in the + use of which he was really an artist, viz., his tongue. By wheedling and + underselling—for he only charged a pound for the painted canvas—he + contrived to live; then he aspired to dress as well as live. With this + second object in view, he hit upon a characteristic expedient. + </p> + <p> + He used to prowl about, and when he saw a young woman sweeping the + afternoon streets with a long silk train, and, in short, dressed to ride + in the park, yet parading the streets, he would take his hat off to her, + with an air of profound respect, and ask permission to take her portrait. + Generally he met a prompt rebuff; but if the fair was so unlucky as to + hesitate a single moment, he told her a melting tale; he had once driven + his four-in-hand; but by indorsing his friends' bills, was reduced to + painting likeness, admirable likenesses in oil, only a guinea each. + </p> + <p> + His piteous tale provoked more gibes than pity, but as he had no shame, + the rebuffs went for nothing: he actually did get a few sitters by his + audacity: and some of the sitters actually took the pictures, and paid for + them; others declined them with fury as soon as they were finished. These + he took back with a piteous sigh, that sometimes extracted half a crown. + Then he painted over the rejected one and let it dry; so that sometimes a + paid portrait would present a beauty enthroned on the debris of two or + three rivals, and that is where few beauties would object to sit. + </p> + <p> + All this time he wrote nice letters to Phoebe, and adopted the tone of the + struggling artist, and the true lover, who wins his bride by patience, + perseverance, and indomitable industry; a babbled of “Self Help.” + </p> + <p> + Meantime, Phoebe was not idle: an excellent business woman, she took + immediate advantage of a new station that was built near the farm, to send + up milk, butter, and eggs to London. Being genuine, they sold like + wildfire. Observing that, she extended her operations, by buying of other + farmers, and forwarding to London: and then, having of course an eye to + her struggling artist, she told her father she must have a shop in London, + and somebody in it she could depend upon. + </p> + <p> + “With all my heart, wench,” said he; “but it must not be thou. I can't + spare thee.” + </p> + <p> + “May I have Dick, father?” + </p> + <p> + “Dick! he is rather young.” + </p> + <p> + “But he is very quick, father, and minds every word I tell him.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, he is as fond of thee as ever a cow was of a calf. Well, you can try + him.” + </p> + <p> + So the love-sick woman of business set up a little shop, and put her + brother Dick in it, and all to see more of her struggling artist. She + stayed several days, to open the little shop, and start the business. She + advertised pure milk, and challenged scientific analysis of everything she + sold. This came of her being a reader; she knew, by the journals, that we + live in a sinful and adulterating generation, and anything pure must be a + godsend to the poor poisoned public. + </p> + <p> + Now, Dr. Staines, though known to the profession as a diagnost, was also + an analyst, and this challenge brought him down on Phoebe Dale. He told + her he was a physician, and in search of pure food for his own family—would + she really submit the milk to analysis? + </p> + <p> + Phoebe smiled an honest country smile, and said, “Surely, sir.” She gave + him every facility, and he applied those simple tests which are commonly + used in France, though hardly known in England. + </p> + <p> + He found it perfectly pure, and told her so; and gazed at Phoebe for a + moment, as a phenomenon. + </p> + <p> + She smiled again at that, her broad country smile. “That is a wonder in + London, I dare say. It's my belief half the children that die here are + perished with watered milk. Well, sir, we shan't have that on our souls, + father and I; he is a farmer in Essex. This comes a many miles, this + milk.” + </p> + <p> + Staines looked in her face, with kindly approval marked on his own + eloquent features. She blushed a little at so fixed a regard. Then he + asked her if she would supply him with milk, butter, and eggs. + </p> + <p> + “Why, if you mean sell you them, yes, sir, with pleasure. But for sending + them home to you in this big town, as some do, I can't; for there's only + brother Dick and me: it is an experiment like.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said Staines: “I will send for them.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you kindly, sir. I hope you won't be offended, sir; but we only + sell for ready money.” + </p> + <p> + “All the better: my order at home is, no bills.” + </p> + <p> + When he was gone, Phoebe, assuming vast experience, though this was only + her third day, told Dick that was one of the right sort: “and oh, Dick,” + said she, “did you notice his eye?” + </p> + <p> + “Not particklar, sister.” + </p> + <p> + “There now; the boy is blind. Why, 'twas like a jewel. Such an eye I never + saw in a man's head, nor a woman's neither.” + </p> + <p> + Staines told his wife about Phoebe and her brother, and spoke of her with + a certain admiration that raised Rosa's curiosity, and even that sort of + vague jealousy that fires at bare praise. “I should like to see this + phenomenon,” said she. “You shall,” said he. “I have to call on Mrs. + Manly. She lives near. I will drop you at the little shop, and come back + for you.” + </p> + <p> + He did so, and that gave Rosa a quarter of an hour to make her purchases. + When he came back he found her conversing with Phoebe, as if they were old + friends, and Dick glaring at his wife with awe and admiration. He could + hardly get her away. + </p> + <p> + She was far more extravagant in her praises than Dr. Staines had been. + “What a good creature!” said she. “And how clever! To think of her setting + up a shop like that all by herself; for her Dick is only seventeen.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Staines recommended the little shop wherever he went, and even + extended its operations. He asked Phoebe to get her own wheat ground at + home, and send the flour up in bushel bags. “These assassins, the bakers,” + said he, “are putting copper into the flour now, as well as alum. Pure + flour is worth a fancy price to any family. With that we can make the + bread of life. What you buy in the shops is the bread of death.” + </p> + <p> + Dick was a good, sharp boy, devoted to his sister. He stuck to the shop in + London, and handed the money to Phoebe, when she came for it. She worked + for it in Essex, and extended her country connection for supply as the + retail business increased. + </p> + <p> + Staines wrote an article on pure food, and incidentally mentioned the shop + as a place where flour, milk, and butter were to be had pure. This article + was published in the Lancet, and caused quite a run upon the little shop. + By and by Phoebe enlarged it, for which there were great capabilities, and + made herself a pretty little parlor, and there she and Dick sat to Falcon + for their portraits; here, too, she hung his rejected landscapes. They + were fair in her eyes; what matter whether they were like nature? his hand + had painted them. She knew, from him, that everybody else had rejected + them. With all the more pride and love did she have them framed in gold, + and hung up with the portraits in her little sanctum. + </p> + <p> + For a few months Phoebe Dale was as happy as she deserved to be. Her lover + was working, and faithful to her—at least she saw no reason to doubt + it. He came to see her every evening, and seemed devoted to her: would sit + quietly with her, or walk with her, or take her to a play, or a music-hall—at + her expense. + </p> + <p> + She now lived in a quiet elysium, with a bright and rapturous dream of the + future; for she saw she had hit on a good vein of business, and should + soon be independent, and able to indulge herself with a husband, and ask + no man's leave. + </p> + <p> + She sent to Essex for a dairymaid, and set her to churn milk into butter, + coram populo, at a certain hour every morning. This made a new sensation. + At other times the woman was employed to deliver milk and cream to a few + favored customers. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Staines dropped in now and then, and chatted with her. Her sweet face + and her naivete won Phoebe's heart; and one day, as happiness is apt to be + communicative, she let out to her, in reply to a feeler or two as to + whether she was quite alone, that she was engaged to be married to a + gentleman. “But he is not rich, ma'am,” said Phoebe plaintively; “he has + had trouble: obliged to work for his living, like me; he painted these + pictures, EVERY ONE OF THEM. If it was not making too free, and you could + spare a guinea—he charges no more for the picture, only you must go + to the expense of the frame.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I will,” said Rosa warmly. “I'll sit for it here, any day you + like.” + </p> + <p> + Now, Rosa said this, out of her ever ready kindness, not to wound Phoebe: + but having made the promise, she kept clear of the place for some days, + hoping Phoebe would forget all about it. Meantime she sent her husband to + buy. + </p> + <p> + In about a fortnight she called again, primed with evasions if she should + be asked to sit; but nothing of the kind was proposed. Phoebe was dealing + when she went in. The customers disposed of, she said to Mrs. Staines, + “Oh, ma'am, I am glad you are come. I have something I should like to show + you.” She took her into the parlor, and made her sit down: then she opened + a drawer, and took out a very small substance that looked like a tear of + ground glass, and put it on the table before her. “There, ma'am,” said + she, “that is all he has had for painting a friend's picture.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! what a shame.” + </p> + <p> + “His friend was going abroad—to Natal; to his uncle that farms out + there, and does very well; it is a first-rate part, if you take out a + little stock with you, and some money; so my one gave him credit, and when + the letter came with that postmark, he counted on a five-pound note; but + the letter only said he had got no money yet, but sent him something as a + keepsake: and there was this little stone. Poor fellow! he flung it down + in a passion; he was so disappointed.” + </p> + <p> + Phoebe's great gray eyes filled; and Rosa gave a little coo of sympathy + that was very womanly and lovable. + </p> + <p> + Phoebe leaned her cheek on her hand, and said thoughtfully, “I picked it + up, and brought it away; for, after all—don't you think, ma'am, it + is very strange that a friend should send it all that way, if it was worth + nothing at all?” + </p> + <p> + “It is impossible. He could not be so heartless.” + </p> + <p> + “And do you know, ma'am, when I take it up in my fingers, it doesn't feel + like a thing that was worth nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “No more it does: it makes my fingers tremble. May I take it home, and + show it my husband? he is a great physician and knows everything.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure I should be obliged to you, ma'am.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa drove home, on purpose to show it to Christopher. She ran into his + study: “Oh, Christopher, please look at that. You know that good creature + we have our flour and milk and things of. She is engaged, and he is a + painter. Oh, such daubs! He painted a friend, and the friend sent that + home all the way from Natal, and he dashed it down, and SHE picked it up, + and what is it? ground glass, or a pebble, or what?” + </p> + <p> + “Humph!—by its shape, and the great—brilliancy—and + refraction of light, on this angle, where the stone has got polished by + rubbing against other stones, in the course of ages, I'm inclined to think + it is—a diamond.” + </p> + <p> + “A diamond!” shrieked Rosa. “No wonder my fingers trembled. Oh, can it be? + Oh, you good, cold-blooded Christie!—Poor things!—Come along, + Diamond! Oh you beauty! Oh you duck!” + </p> + <p> + “Don't be in such a hurry. I only said I thought it was a diamond. Let me + weigh it against water, and then I shall KNOW.” + </p> + <p> + He took it to his little laboratory, and returned in a few minutes, and + said, “Yes. It is just three times and a half heavier than water. It is a + diamond.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you positive?” + </p> + <p> + “I'll stake my existence.” + </p> + <p> + “What is it worth?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear, I'm not a jeweller: but it is very large and pear-shaped, and I + see no flaw: I don't think you could buy it for less than three hundred + pounds.” + </p> + <p> + “Three hundred pounds! It is worth three hundred pounds.” + </p> + <p> + “Or sell it for more than a hundred and fifty pounds.” + </p> + <p> + “A hundred and fifty! It is worth a hundred and fifty pounds.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, my dear, one would think you had invented 'the diamond.' Show me how + to crystallize carbon, and I will share your enthusiasm.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I leave you to carbonize crystal. I prefer to gladden hearts: and I + will do it this minute, with my diamond.” + </p> + <p> + “Do, dear; and I will take that opportunity to finish my article on + Adulteration.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa drove off to Phoebe Dale. + </p> + <p> + Now Phoebe was drinking tea with Reginald Falcon, in her little parlor. + “Who is that, I wonder?” said she, when the carriage drew up. + </p> + <p> + Reginald drew back a corner of the gauze curtain which had been drawn + across the little glass door leading from the shop. + </p> + <p> + “It is a lady, and a beautiful—Oh! let me get out.” And he rushed + out at the door leading to the kitchen, not to be recognized. + </p> + <p> + This set Phoebe all in a flutter, and the next moment Mrs. Staines tapped + at the little door, then opened it, and peeped. “Good news! may I come + in?” + </p> + <p> + “Surely,” said Phoebe, still troubled and confused by Reginald's strange + agitation. + </p> + <p> + “There! It is a diamond!” screamed Rosa. “My husband knew it directly. He + knows everything. If ever you are ill, go to him and nobody else—by + the refraction, and the angle, and its being three times and a half as + heavy as water. It is worth three hundred pounds to buy, and a hundred and + fifty pounds to sell.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” + </p> + <p> + “So don't you go throwing it away, as he did. (In a whisper.) Two teacups? + Was that him? I have driven him away. I am so sorry. I'll go; and then you + can tell him. Poor fellow!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, ma'am, don't go yet,” said Phoebe, trembling. “I haven't half thanked + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, bother thanks. Kiss me; that is the way.” + </p> + <p> + “May I?” + </p> + <p> + “You may, and must. There—and there—and there. Oh dear, what + nice things good luck and happiness are, and how sweet to bring them for + once.” + </p> + <p> + Upon this Phoebe and she had a nice little cry together, and Mrs. Staines + went off refreshed thereby, and as gay as a lark, pointing slyly at the + door, and making faces to Phoebe that she knew he was there, and she only + retired, out of her admirable discretion, that they might enjoy the + diamond together. + </p> + <p> + When she was gone, Reginald, whose eye and ear had been at the keyhole, + alternately gloating on the face and drinking the accents of the only + woman he had ever really loved, came out, looking pale, and strangely + disturbed; and sat down at table, without a word. + </p> + <p> + Phoebe came back to him, full of the diamond. “Did you hear what she said, + my dear? It is a diamond; it is worth a hundred and fifty pounds at least. + Why, what ails you? Ah! to be sure! you know that lady.” + </p> + <p> + “I have cause to know her. Cursed jilt!” + </p> + <p> + “You seem a good deal put out at the sight of her.” + </p> + <p> + “It took me by surprise, that is all.” + </p> + <p> + “It takes me by surprise too. I thought you were cured. I thought MY turn + had come at last.” + </p> + <p> + Reginald met this in sullen silence. Then Phoebe was sorry she had said + it; for, after all, it wasn't the man's fault if an old sweetheart had run + into the room, and given him a start. So she made him some fresh tea, and + pressed him kindly to try her home-made bread and butter. + </p> + <p> + My lord relaxed his frown and consented, and of course they talked + diamond. + </p> + <p> + He told her, loftily, he must take a studio, and his sitters must come to + him, and must no longer expect to be immortalized for one pound. It must + be two pounds for a bust, and three pounds for a kitcat. + </p> + <p> + “Nay, but, my dear,” said Phoebe, “they will pay no more because you have + a diamond.” + </p> + <p> + “Then they will have to go unpainted,” said Mr. Falcon. + </p> + <p> + This was intended for a threat. Phoebe instinctively felt that it might + not be so received; she counselled moderation. “It is a great thing to + have earned a diamond,” said she: “but 'tis only once in a life. Now, be + ruled by me: go on just as you are. Sell the diamond, and give me the + money to keep for you. Why, you might add a little to it, and so would I, + till we made it up two hundred pounds. And if you could only show two + hundred pounds you had made and laid by, father would let us marry, and I + might keep this shop—it pays well, I can tell you—and keep my + gentleman in a sly corner; you need never be seen in it.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, ay,” said he, “that is the small game. But I am a man that have + always preferred the big game. I shall set up my studio, and make enough + to keep us both. So give me the stone, if you please. I shall take it + round to them all, and the rogues won't get it out of ME for a hundred and + fifty; why, it is as big as a nut.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, Reginald. Money has always made mischief between you and me. You + never had fifty pounds yet, you didn't fall into temptation. Do pray let + me keep it for you; or else sell it—I know how to sell; nobody + better—and keep the money for a good occasion.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it yours, or mine?” said he, sulkily. + </p> + <p> + “Why yours, dear; you earned it.” + </p> + <p> + “Then give it me, please.” And he almost forced it out of her hand. + </p> + <p> + So now she sat down and cried over this piece of good luck, for her heart + filled with forebodings. + </p> + <p> + He laughed at her, but at last had the grace to console her, and assure + her she was tormenting herself for nothing. + </p> + <p> + “Time will show,” said she, sadly. + </p> + <p> + Time did show. + </p> + <p> + Three or four days he came, as usual, to laugh her out of her forebodings. + But presently his visits ceased. She knew what that meant: he was living + like a gentleman, melting his diamond, and playing her false with the + first pretty face he met. + </p> + <p> + This blow, coming after she had been so happy, struck Phoebe Dale stupid + with grief. The line on her high forehead deepened; and at night she sat + with her hands before her, sighing, and sighing, and listening for the + footsteps that never came. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Dick!” she said, “never you love any one. I am aweary of my life. And + to think that, but for that diamond—oh, dear! oh, dear! oh, dear!” + </p> + <p> + Then Dick used to try and comfort her in his way, and often put his arm + round her neck, and gave her his rough but honest sympathy. Dick's rare + affection was her one drop of comfort; it was something to relieve her + swelling heart. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Dick!” she said to him one night, “I wish I had married him.” + </p> + <p> + “What, to be ill-used?” + </p> + <p> + “He couldn't use me worse. I have been wife, and mother, and sweetheart, + and all, to him; and to be left like this. He treats me like the dirt + beneath his feet.” + </p> + <p> + “'Tis your own fault, Phoebe, partly. You say the word, and I'll break + every bone in his carcass.” + </p> + <p> + “What, do him a mischief! Why, I'd rather die than harm a hair of his + head. You must never lift a hand to him, or I shall hate you.” + </p> + <p> + “Hate ME, Phoebe?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, boy: I should. God forgive me: 'tis no use deceiving ourselves; when + a woman loves a man she despises, never you come between them; there's no + reason in her love, so it is incurable. One comfort, it can't go on + forever; it must kill me, before my time and so best. If I was only a + mother, and had a little Reginald to dandle on my knee and gloat upon, + till he spent his money, and came back to me. That's why I said I wished I + was his wife. Oh! why does God fill a poor woman's bosom with love, and + nothing to spend it on but a stone; for sure his heart must be one. If I + had only something that would let me always love it, a little toddling + thing at my knee, that would always let me look at it, and love it, + something too young to be false to me, too weak to run away from my long—ing—arms—and—year—ning + heart!” Then came a burst of agony, and moans of desolation, till poor + puzzled Dick blubbered loudly at her grief; and then her tears flowed in + streams. + </p> + <p> + Trouble on trouble. Dick himself got strangely out of sorts, and + complained of shivers. Phoebe sent him to bed early, and made him some + white wine whey very hot. In the morning he got up, and said he was + better; but after breakfast he was violently sick, and suffered several + returns of nausea before noon. “One would think I was poisoned,” said he. + </p> + <p> + At one o'clock he was seized with a kind of spasm in the throat that + lasted so long it nearly choked him. + </p> + <p> + Then Phoebe got frightened, and sent to the nearest surgeon. He did not + hurry, and poor Dick had another frightful spasm just as he came in. + </p> + <p> + “It is hysterical,” said the surgeon. “No disease of the heart, is there? + Give him a little sal-volatile every half hour.” + </p> + <p> + In spite of the sal-volatile these terrible spasms seized him every half + hour; and now he used to spring off the bed with a cry of terror when they + came; and each one left him weaker and weaker; he had to be carried back + by the women. + </p> + <p> + A sad, sickening fear seized on Phoebe. She left Dick with the maid, and + tying on her bonnet in a moment, rushed wildly down the street, asking the + neighbors for a great doctor, the best that could be had for money. One + sent her east a mile, another west, and she was almost distracted, when + who should drive up but Dr. and Mrs. Staines, to make purchases. She did + not know his name, but she knew he was a doctor. She ran to the window, + and cried, “Oh, doctor, my brother! Oh, pray come to him. Oh! oh!” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Staines got quickly, but calmly, out; told his wife to wait; and + followed Phoebe up-stairs. She told him in a few agitated words how Dick + had been taken, and all the symptoms; especially what had alarmed her so, + his springing off the bed when the spasm came. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Staines told her to hold the patient up. He lost not a moment, but + opened his mouth resolutely, and looked down. + </p> + <p> + “The glottis is swollen,” said he: then he felt his hands, and said, with + the grave, terrible calm of experience, “He is dying.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no! no! Oh, doctor, save him! save him!” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing can save him, unless we had a surgeon on the spot. Yes, I might + save him, if you have the courage: opening his windpipe before the next + spasm is his one chance.” + </p> + <p> + “Open his windpipe! Oh, doctor! It will kill him. Let me look at you.” + </p> + <p> + She looked hard in his face. It gave her confidence. + </p> + <p> + “Is it the only chance?” + </p> + <p> + “The only one: and it is flying while we chatter.” + </p> + <p> + “DO IT.” + </p> + <p> + He whipped out his lancet. + </p> + <p> + “But I can't look on it. I trust to you and my Saviour's mercy.” + </p> + <p> + She fell on her knees, and bowed her head in prayer. + </p> + <p> + Staines seized a basin, put it by the bedside, made an incision in the + windpipe, and got Dick down on his stomach, with his face over the + bedside. Some blood ran, but not much. “Now!” he cried, cheerfully, “a + small bellows! There's one in your parlor. Run.” + </p> + <p> + Phoebe ran for it, and at Dr. Staines' direction lifted Dick a little, + while the bellows, duly cleansed, were gently applied to the aperture in + the windpipe, and the action of the lungs delicately aided by this + primitive but effectual means. + </p> + <p> + He showed Phoebe how to do it, tore a leaf out of his pocket-book, wrote a + hasty direction to an able surgeon near, and sent his wife off with it in + the carriage. + </p> + <p> + Phoebe and he never left the patient till the surgeon came with all the + instruments required; amongst the rest, with a big, tortuous pair of + nippers, with which he could reach the glottis, and snip it. But they + consulted, and thought it wiser to continue the surer method; and so a + little tube was neatly inserted into Dick's windpipe, and his throat + bandaged; and by this aperture he did his breathing for some little time. + </p> + <p> + Phoebe nursed him like a mother; and the terror and the joy did her good, + and made her less desolate. + </p> + <p> + Dick was only just well when both of them were summoned to the farm, and + arrived only just in time to receive their father's blessing and his last + sigh. + </p> + <p> + Their elder brother, a married man, inherited the farm, and was executor. + Phoebe and Dick were left fifteen hundred pounds apiece, on condition of + their leaving England and going to Natal. + </p> + <p> + They knew directly what that meant. Phoebe was to be parted from a bad + man, and Dick was to comfort her for the loss. + </p> + <p> + When this part of the will was read to Phoebe, she turned faint, and only + her health and bodily vigor kept her from swooning right away. + </p> + <p> + But she yielded. “It is the will of the dead,” said she, “and I will obey + it; for, oh, if I had but listened to him more when he was alive to advise + me, I should not sit here now, sick at heart and dry-eyed, when I ought to + be thinking only of the good friend that is gone.” + </p> + <p> + When she had come to this she became feverishly anxious to be gone. She + busied herself in purchasing agricultural machines, and stores, and even + stock; and to see her pinching the beasts' ribs to find their condition, + and parrying all attempts to cheat her, you would never have believed she + could be a love-sick woman. + </p> + <p> + Dick kept her up to the mark. He only left her to bargain with the master + of a good vessel; for it was no trifle to take out horses and cows, and + machines, and bales of cloth, cotton, and linen. + </p> + <p> + When that was settled they came in to town together, and Phoebe bought + shrewdly, at wholesale houses in the city, for cash, and would have + bargains: and the little shop in ——- Street was turned into a + warehouse. + </p> + <p> + They were all ardor, as colonists should be; and what pleased Dick most, + she never mentioned Falcon; yet he learned from the maid that worthy had + been there twice, looking very seedy. + </p> + <p> + The day drew near. Dick was in high spirits. + </p> + <p> + “We shall soon make our fortune out there,” he said; “and I'll get you a + good husband.” + </p> + <p> + She shuddered, but said nothing. + </p> + <p> + The evening before they were to sail, Phoebe sat alone, in her black + dress, tired with work, and asking herself, sick at heart, could she ever + really leave England, when the door opened softly, and Reginald Falcon, + shabbily dressed, came in, and threw himself into a chair. + </p> + <p> + She started up with a scream, then sank down again, trembling, and turned + her face to the wall. + </p> + <p> + “So you are going to run away from me!” said he savagely. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, Reginald,” said she meekly. + </p> + <p> + “This is your fine love, is it?” + </p> + <p> + “You have worn it out, dear,” she said softly, without turning her head + from the wall. + </p> + <p> + “I wish I could say as much; but, curse it, every time I leave you I learn + to love you more. I am never really happy but when I am with you.” + </p> + <p> + “Bless you for saying that, dear. I often thought you MUST find that out + one day; but you took too long.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, better late than never. Phoebe! Can you have the heart to go to the + Cape, and leave me all alone in the world, with nobody that really cares + for me? Surely you are not obliged to go.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; my father left Dick and me fifteen hundred pounds apiece to go: that + was the condition. Poor Dick loves his unhappy sister. He won't go without + me—I should be his ruin—poor Dick, that really loves me; and + he lay a-dying here, and the good doctor and me—God bless him—we + brought him back from the grave. Ah, you little know what I have gone + through. You were not here. Catch you being near me when I am in trouble. + There, I must go. I must go. I will go; if I fling myself into the sea + half way.” + </p> + <p> + “And, if you do, I'll take a dose of poison; for I have thrown away the + truest heart, the sweetest, most unselfish, kindest, generous—oh! + oh! oh!” + </p> + <p> + And he began to howl. + </p> + <p> + This set Phoebe sobbing. “Don't cry, dear,” she murmured through her + tears; “if you have really any love for me, come with me.” + </p> + <p> + “What, leave England, and go to a desert?” + </p> + <p> + “Love can make a desert a garden.” + </p> + <p> + “Phoebe, I'll do anything else. I'll swear not to leave your side. I'll + never look at any other face but yours. But I can't live in Africa.” + </p> + <p> + “I know you can't. It takes a little real love to go there with a poor + girl like me. Ah, well, I'd have made you so happy. We are not poor + emigrants. I have a horse for you to ride, and guns to shoot; and me and + Dick would do all the work for you. But there are others here you can't + leave for me. Well, then, good-by, dear. In Africa, or here, I shall + always love you; and many a salt tear I shall shed for you yet, many a one + I have, as well you know. God bless you. Pray for poor Phoebe, that goes + against her will to Africa, and leaves her heart with thee.” + </p> + <p> + This was too much even for the selfish Reginald. He kneeled at her knees, + and took her hand, and kissed it, and actually shed a tear or two over it. + </p> + <p> + She could not speak. He had no hope of changing her resolution; and + presently he heard Dick's voice outside, so he got up to avoid him. “I'll + come again in the morning, before you go.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no! no!” she gasped. “Unless you want me to die at your feet. I am + almost dead now.” + </p> + <p> + Reginald slipped out by the kitchen. + </p> + <p> + Dick came in, and found his sister leaning with her head back against the + wall. “Why, Phoebe,” said he, “whatever is the matter?” and he took her by + the shoulder. + </p> + <p> + She moaned, and he felt her all limp and powerless. + </p> + <p> + “What is it, lass? Whatever is the matter? Is it about going away?” + </p> + <p> + She would not speak for a long time. + </p> + <p> + When she did speak, it was to say something for which my male reader may + not be prepared. But it will not surprise the women. + </p> + <p> + “O Dick—forgive me!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, what for?” + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me, or else kill me: I don't care which.” + </p> + <p> + “I do, though. There, I forgive you. Now what's your crime?” + </p> + <p> + “I can't go. Forgive me!” + </p> + <p> + “Can't go?” + </p> + <p> + “I can't. Forgive me!” + </p> + <p> + “I'm blessed if I don't believe that vagabond has been here tormenting of + you again.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don't miscall him. He is penitent. Yes, Dick, he has been here crying + to me—and I can't leave him. I can't—I can't. Dear Dick! you + are young and stout-hearted; take all the things over, and make your + fortune out there, and leave your poor foolish sister behind. I should + only fling myself into the salt sea if I left him now, and that would be + peace to me, but a grief to thee.” + </p> + <p> + “Lordsake, Phoebe, don't talk so. I can't go without you. And do but + think, why, the horses are on board by now, and all the gear. It's my + belief a good hiding is all you want, to bring you to your senses; but I + han't the heart to give you one, worse luck. Blessed if I know what to say + or do.” + </p> + <p> + “I won't go!” cried Phoebe, turning violent all of a sudden. “No, not if I + am dragged to the ship by the hair of my head. Forgive me!” And with that + word she was a mouse again. + </p> + <p> + “Eh, but women are kittle cattle to drive,” said poor Dick ruefully. And + down he sat at a nonplus, and very unhappy. + </p> + <p> + Phoebe sat opposite, sullen, heart-sick, wretched to the core; but + determined not to leave Reginald. + </p> + <p> + Then came an event that might have been foreseen, yet it took them both by + surprise. + </p> + <p> + A light step was heard, and a graceful, though seedy, figure entered the + room with a set speech in his mouth: “Phoebe, you are right. I owe it to + your long and faithful affection to make a sacrifice for you. I will go to + Africa with you. I will go to the end of the world, sooner than you shall + say I care for any woman on earth but you.” + </p> + <p> + Both brother and sister were so unprepared for this, that they could + hardly realize it at first. + </p> + <p> + Phoebe turned her great, inquiring eyes on the speaker, and it was a sight + to see amazement, doubt, hope, and happiness animating her features, one + after another. + </p> + <p> + “Is this real?” said she. + </p> + <p> + “I will sail with you to-morrow, Phoebe; and I will make you a good + husband, if you will have me.” + </p> + <p> + “That is spoke like a man,” said Dick. “You take him at his word, Phoebe; + and if he ill-uses you out there, I'll break every bone in his skin.” + </p> + <p> + “How dare you threaten him?” said Phoebe. “You had best leave the room.” + </p> + <p> + Out went poor Dick, with the tear in his eye at being snubbed so. While he + was putting up the shutters, Phoebe was making love to her pseudo + penitent. “My dear,” said she, “trust yourself to me. You don't know all + my love yet; for I have never been your wife, and I would not be your + jade; that is the only thing I ever refused you. Trust yourself to me. + Why, you never found happiness with others; try it with me. It shall be + the best day's work you ever did, going out in the ship with me. You don't + know how happy a loving wife can make her husband. I'll pet you out there + as man was never petted. And besides, it isn't for life; Dick and me will + soon make a fortune out there, and then I'll bring you home, and see you + spend it any way you like but one. Oh, how I love you! do you love me a + little? I worship the ground you walk on. I adore every hair of your + head!” Her noble arm went round his neck in a moment, and the grandeur of + her passion electrified him so far that he kissed her affectionately, if + not quite so warmly as she did him: and so it was all settled. The maid + was discharged that night instead of the morning, and Reginald was to + occupy her bed. Phoebe went up-stairs with her heart literally on fire, to + prepare his sleeping-room, and so Dick and Reginald had a word. + </p> + <p> + “I say, Dick, how long will this voyage be?” + </p> + <p> + “Two months, sir, I am told.” + </p> + <p> + “Please to cast your eyes on this suit of mine. Don't you think it is + rather seedy—to go to Africa with? Why, I shall disgrace you on + board the ship. I say, Dick, lend me three sovs., just to buy a new suit + at the slop-shop.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, brother-in-law,” said Dick, “I don't see any harm in that. I'll go + and fetch them for you.” + </p> + <p> + What does this sensible Dick do but go up-stairs to Phoebe, and say, “He + wants three pounds to buy a suit; am I to lend it him?” + </p> + <p> + Phoebe was shaking and patting her penitent's pillow. She dropped it on + the bed in dismay. “Oh, Dick, not for all the world! Why, if he had three + sovereigns, he'd desert me at the water's edge. Oh, God help me, how I + love him! God forgive me, how I mistrust him! Good Dick! kind Dick! say we + have suits of clothes, and we'll fit him like a prince, as he ought to be, + on board ship; but not a shilling of money: and, my dear, don't put the + weight on ME. You understand?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, mistress, I understand.” + </p> + <p> + “Good Dick!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, all right! and then don't you snap this here good, kind Dick's nose + off at a word again.” + </p> + <p> + “Never. I get wild if anybody threatens him. Then I'm not myself. Forgive + my hasty tongue. You know I love you, dear!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, ay! you love me well enough. But seems to me your love is precious + like cold veal, and your love for that chap is hot roast beef.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha, ha, ha, ha!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, ye can laugh now, can ye?” + </p> + <p> + “Ha, ha, ha!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, the more of that music, the better for me.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, dear; but go and tell him.” + </p> + <p> + Dick went down, and said, “I've got no money to spare, till I get to the + Cape; but Phoebe has got a box full of suits, and I made her promise to + keep it out. She will dress you like a prince, you may be sure.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that is it, is it?” said Reginald dryly. + </p> + <p> + Dick made no reply. + </p> + <p> + At nine o'clock they were on board the vessel; at ten she weighed anchor, + and a steam-vessel drew her down the river about thirty miles, then cast + off, and left her to the south-easterly breeze. Up went sail after sail; + she nodded her lofty head, and glided away for Africa. + </p> + <p> + Phoebe shed a few natural tears at leaving the shores of Old England; but + they soon dried. She was demurely happy, watching her prize, and asking + herself had she really secured it, and all in a few hours? + </p> + <p> + They had a prosperous voyage: were married at Cape Town, and went up the + country, bag and baggage, looking out for a good bargain in land. Reginald + was mounted on an English horse, and allowed to zigzag about, and shoot, + and play, while his wife and brother-in-law marched slowly with their + cavalcade. + </p> + <p> + What with air, exercise, wholesome food, and smiles of welcome, and + delicious petting, this egotist enjoyed himself finely. He admitted as + much. Says he, one evening to his wife, who sat by him for the pleasure of + seeing him feed, “It sounds absurd; but I never was so happy in all my + life.” + </p> + <p> + At that, the celestial expression of her pastoral face, and the maternal + gesture with which she drew her pet's head to her queenly bosom, was a + picture for celibacy to gnash the teeth at. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX. + </h2> + <p> + During this period, the most remarkable things that happened to Dr. and + Mrs. Staines were really those which I have related as connecting them + with Phoebe Dale and her brother; to which I will now add that Dr. Staines + detailed Dick's case in a remarkable paper, entitled “Oedema of the + Glottis,” and showed how the patient had been brought back from the grave + by tracheotomy and artificial respiration. He received a high price for + this article. + </p> + <p> + To tell the truth, he was careful not to admit that it was he who had + opened the windpipe; so the credit of the whole operation was given to Mr. + Jenkyn; and this gentleman was naturally pleased, and threw a good many + consultation fees in Staines's way. + </p> + <p> + The Lucases, to his great comfort—for he had an instinctive aversion + to Miss Lucas—left London for Paris in August, and did not return + all the year. + </p> + <p> + In February he reviewed his year's work and twelve months' residence in + the Bijou. The pecuniary result was, outgoings, nine hundred and fifty + pounds; income, from fees, two hundred and eighty pounds; writing, ninety + pounds. + </p> + <p> + He showed these figures to Mrs. Staines, and asked her if she could + suggest any diminution of expenditure. Could she do with less housekeeping + money? + </p> + <p> + “Oh, impossible! You cannot think how the servants eat; and they won't + touch our home-made bread.” + </p> + <p> + “The fools! Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, because they think it costs us less. Servants seem to me always to + hate the people whose bread they eat.” + </p> + <p> + “More likely it is their vanity. Nothing that is not paid for before their + eyes seems good enough for them. Well, dear, the bakers will revenge us. + But is there any other item we could reduce? Dress?” + </p> + <p> + “Dress! Why, I spend nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Forty-five pounds this year.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I shall want none next year.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, Rosa, as there is nothing we can reduce, I must write more, + and take more fees, or we shall be in the wrong box. Only eight hundred + and sixty pounds left of our little capital; and, mind, we have not + another shilling in the world. One comfort, there is no debt. We pay ready + money for everything.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa colored a little, but said nothing. + </p> + <p> + Staines did his part nobly. He read; he wrote; he paced the yard. He wore + his old clothes in the house; he took off his new ones when he came in. He + was all genius, drudgery, patience. + </p> + <p> + How Phoebe Dale would have valued him, co-operated with him, and petted + him, if she had had the good luck to be his wife! + </p> + <p> + The season came back, and with it Miss Lucas, towing a brilliant bride, + Mrs. Vivian, young, rich, pretty, and gay, with a waist you could span, + and athirst for pleasure. + </p> + <p> + This lady was the first that ever made Rosa downright jealous. She seemed + to have everything the female heart could desire; and she was No. 1 with + Miss Lucas this year. Now, Rosa was No. 1 last season, and had weakly + imagined that was to last forever. But Miss Lucas had always a sort of + female flame, and it never lasted two seasons. + </p> + <p> + Rosa did not care so very much for Miss Lucas before, except as a + convenient friend; but now she was mortified to tears at finding Miss + Lucas made more fuss with another than with her. + </p> + <p> + This foolish feeling spurred her to attempt a rivalry with Mrs. Vivian, in + the very things where rivalry was hopeless. + </p> + <p> + Miss Lucas gave both ladies tickets for a flower-show, where all the great + folk were to be, princes and princesses, etc. + </p> + <p> + “But I have nothing to wear,” sighed Rosa. + </p> + <p> + “Then you must get something, and mind it is not pink, please; for we must + not clash in colors. You know I'm dark, and pink becomes me. (The selfish + young brute was not half so dark as Rosa.) Mine is coming from Worth's, in + Paris, on purpose. And this new Madame Cie, of Regent Street, has such a + duck of a bonnet, just come from Paris. She wanted to make me one from it; + but I told her I would have none but the pattern bonnet—and she + knows very well she can't pass a copy off on me. Let me drive you up + there, and you can see mine, and order one, if you like it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, thank you! let me just run and speak to my husband first.” + </p> + <p> + Staines was writing for the bare life, and a number of German books about + him, slaving to make a few pounds—when in comes the buoyant figure + and beaming face his soul delighted in. + </p> + <p> + He laid down his work, to enjoy the sunbeam of love. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, darling, I've only come in for a minute. We are going to a + flower-show on the 13th; everybody will be so beautifully dressed—especially + that Mrs. Vivian. I have got ten yards of beautiful blue silk in my + wardrobe, but that is not enough to make a whole dress—everything + takes so much stuff now. Madame Cie does not care to make up dresses + unless she finds the silk, but Miss Lucas says she thinks, to oblige a + friend of hers, she would do it for once in a way. You know, dear, it + would only take a few yards more, and it would last as a dinner-dress for + ever so long.” + </p> + <p> + Then she clasped him round the neck, and leaned her head upon his + shoulder, and looked lovingly up in his face. “I know you would like your + Rosa to look as well as Mrs. Vivian.” + </p> + <p> + “No one ever looks as well, in my eyes, as my Rosa. There, the dress will + add nothing to your beauty; but go and get it, to please yourself; it is + very considerate of you to have chosen something of which you have ten + yards, already. See, dear, I'm to receive twenty pounds for this article; + if research was paid it ought to be a hundred. I shall add it all to your + allowance for dresses this year. So no debt, mind; but come to me for + everything.” + </p> + <p> + The two ladies drove off to Madame Cie's, a pretty shop lined with dark + velvet and lace draperies. + </p> + <p> + In the back room they were packing a lovely bridal dress, going off the + following Saturday to New York. + </p> + <p> + “What, send from America to London?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear, yes!” exclaimed Madame Cie. “The American ladies are excellent + customers. They buy everything of the best, and the most expensive.” + </p> + <p> + “I have brought a new customer,” said Miss Lucas; “and I want you to do a + great favor, and that is to match a blue silk, and make her a pretty dress + for the flower-show on the 13th.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Cie produced a white muslin polonaise, which she was just going to + send home to the Princess ——-, to be worn over mauve. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how pretty and simple!” exclaimed Miss Lucas. + </p> + <p> + “I have some lace exactly like that,” said Mrs. Staines. + </p> + <p> + “Then why don't you have a polonaise? The lace is the only expensive part, + the muslin is a mere nothing; and it is such a useful dress, it can be + worn over any silk.” + </p> + <p> + It was agreed Madame Cie was to send for the blue silk and the lace, and + the dresses were to be tried on on Thursday. + </p> + <p> + On Thursday, as Rosa went gayly into Madame Cie's back room to have the + dresses tried on, Madame Cie said, “You have a beautiful lace shawl, but + it wants arranging; in five minutes I could astonish you with what I could + do to that shawl.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, pray do,” said Mrs. Staines. + </p> + <p> + The dressmaker kept her word. By the time the blue dress was tried on, + Madame Cie had, with the aid of a few pins, plaits, and a bow of blue + ribbon, transformed the half lace shawl into one of the smartest and + distingue things imaginable; but when the bill came in at Christmas, for + that five minutes' labor and distingue touch, she charged one pound eight. + </p> + <p> + Madame Cie then told the ladies, in an artfully confidential tone, she had + a quantity of black silk coming home, which she had purchased considerably + below cost price; and that she should like to make them each a dress—not + for her own sake, but theirs—as she knew they would never meet such + a bargain again. “You know, Miss Lucas,” she continued, “we don't want our + money, when we know our customers. Christmas is soon enough for us.” + </p> + <p> + “Christmas is a long time off,” thought the young wife, “nearly ten + months. I think I'll have a black silk, Madame Cie; but I must not say + anything to the doctor about it just yet, or he might think me + extravagant.” + </p> + <p> + “No one can ever think a lady extravagant for buying a black silk; it's + such a useful dress; lasts forever—almost.” + </p> + <p> + Days, weeks, and months rolled on, and with them an ever-rolling tide of + flower-shows, dinners, at-homes, balls, operas, lawn-parties, concerts, + and theatres. + </p> + <p> + Strange that in one house there should be two people who loved each other, + yet their lives ran so far apart, except while they were asleep: the man + all industry, self-denial, patience; the woman all frivolity, + self-indulgence, and amusement; both chained to an oar, only—one in + a working boat, the other in a painted galley. + </p> + <p> + The woman got tired first, and her charming color waned sadly. She came to + him for medicine to set her up. “I feel so languid.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” said he; “no medicine can do the work of wholesome food and + rational repose. You lack the season of all natures, sleep. Dine at home + three days running, and go to bed at ten.” + </p> + <p> + On this the doctor's wife went to a chemist for advice. He gave her a pink + stimulant; and, as stimulants have two effects, viz., first to stimulate, + and then to weaken, this did her no lasting good. Dr. Staines cursed the + London season, and threatened to migrate to Liverpool. + </p> + <p> + But there was worse behind. + </p> + <p> + Returning one day to his dressing-room, just after Rosa had come + down-stairs, he caught sight of a red stain in a wash-hand-basin. He + examined it; it was arterial blood. + </p> + <p> + He went to her directly, and expressed his anxiety. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it is nothing,” said she. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing! Pray, how often has it occurred?” + </p> + <p> + “Once or twice. I must take your advice, and be quiet, that is all.” + </p> + <p> + Staines examined the housemaid; she lied instinctively at first, seeing he + was alarmed; but, being urged to tell the truth, said she had seen it + repeatedly, and had told the cook. + </p> + <p> + He went down-stairs again, and sat down, looking wretched. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear!” said Rosa. “What is the matter now?” + </p> + <p> + “Rosa,” said he, very gravely, “there are two people a woman is mad to + deceive—her husband and her physician. You have deceived both.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X. + </h2> + <p> + I suspect Dr. Staines merely meant to say that she had concealed from him + an alarming symptom for several weeks; but she answered in a hurry, to + excuse herself, and let the cat out of the bag—excuse my vulgarity. + </p> + <p> + “It was all that Mrs. Vivian's fault. She laughed at me so for not wearing + them; and she has a waist you can span—the wretch!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, then, you have been wearing stays clandestinely?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, you know I have. Oh, what a stupid! I have let it all out.” + </p> + <p> + “How could you do it, when you knew, by experience, it is your death?” + </p> + <p> + “But it looks so beautiful, a tiny waist.” + </p> + <p> + “It looks as hideous as a Chinese foot, and, to the eye of science, far + more disgusting; it is the cause of so many unlovely diseases.” + </p> + <p> + “Just tell me one thing; have you looked at Mrs. Vivian?” + </p> + <p> + “Minutely. I look at all your friends with great anxiety, knowing no + animal more dangerous than a fool. Vivian—a skinny woman, with a + pretty face, lovely hair, good teeth, dying eyes”— + </p> + <p> + “Yes, lovely!” + </p> + <p> + “A sure proof of a disordered stomach—and a waist pinched in so + unnaturally, that I said to myself, 'Where on earth does this idiot put + her liver?' Did you ever read of the frog who burst, trying to swell to an + ox? Well, here is the rivalry reversed; Mrs. Vivian is a bag of bones in a + balloon; she can machine herself into a wasp; but a fine young woman like + you, with flesh and muscle, must kill yourself three or four times before + you can make your body as meagre, hideous, angular, and unnatural as + Vivian's. But all you ladies are mono-maniacs; one might as well talk + sense to a gorilla. It brought you to the edge of the grave. I saved you. + Yet you could go and—God grant me patience. So I suppose these + unprincipled women lent you their stays to deceive your husband?” + </p> + <p> + “No. But they laughed at me so that—Oh, Christie, I'm a wretch; I + kept a pair at the Lucases, and a pair at Madame Cie's, and I put them on + now and then.” + </p> + <p> + “But you never appeared here in them?” + </p> + <p> + “What, before my tyrant? Oh no, I dared not.” + </p> + <p> + “So you took them off before you came home?” + </p> + <p> + Rosa hung her head, and said “Yes” in a reluctant whisper. + </p> + <p> + “You spent your daylight dressing. You dressed to go out; dressed again in + stays; dressed again without them; and all to deceive your husband, and + kill yourself, at the bidding of two shallow, heartless women, who would + dance over your grave without a pang of remorse, or sentiment of any kind, + since they live, like midges, ONLY TO DANCE IN THE SUN, AND SUCK SOME + WORKER'S BLOOD.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Christie! I'm so easily led. I am too great a fool to live. Kill me!” + </p> + <p> + And she kneeled down, and renewed the request, looking up in his face with + an expression that might have disarmed Cain ipsum. + </p> + <p> + He smiled superior. “The question is, are you sorry you have been so + thoughtless?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, dear. Oh! oh!” + </p> + <p> + “Will you be very good to make up?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes. Only tell me how; for it does not come natural to poor me.” + </p> + <p> + “Keep out of those women's way for the rest of the season.” + </p> + <p> + “I will.” + </p> + <p> + “Bring your stays home, and allow me to do what I like with them.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course. Cut them in a million pieces.” + </p> + <p> + “Till you are recovered, you must be my patient, and go nowhere without + me.” + </p> + <p> + “That is no punishment, I am sure.” + </p> + <p> + “Punishment! Am I the man to punish you? I only want to save you.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, darling, it won't be the first time.” + </p> + <p> + “No; but I do hope it will be the last.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI. + </h2> + <p> + “Sublata causa tollitur effectus.” The stays being gone, and dissipation + moderated, Mrs. Staines bloomed again, and they gave one or two + unpretending little dinners at the Bijou. Dr. Staines admitted no false + friends to these. They never went beyond eight; five gentlemen, three + ladies. By this arrangement the terrible discursiveness of the fair, and + man's cruel disposition to work a subject threadbare, were controlled and + modified, and a happy balance of conversation established. Lady Cicely + Treherne was always invited, and always managed to come; for she said, + “They were the most agweeable little paaties in London, and the host and + hostess both so intewesting.” In the autumn, Staines worked double tides + with the pen, and found a vehicle for medical narratives in a weekly + magazine that did not profess medicine. + </p> + <p> + This new vein put him in heart. His fees, towards the end of the year, + were less than last year, because there was no hundred-guinea fee; but + there was a marked increase in the small fees, and the unflagging pen had + actually earned him two hundred pounds, or nearly. So he was in good + spirits. + </p> + <p> + Not so Mrs. Staines; for some time she had been uneasy, fretful, and like + a person with a weight on her mind. + </p> + <p> + One Sunday she said to him, “Oh, dear, I do feel so dull. Nobody to go to + church with, nor yet to the Zoo.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll go with you,” said Staines. + </p> + <p> + “You will! To which?” + </p> + <p> + “To both; in for a penny, in for a pound.” + </p> + <p> + So to church they went; and Staines, whose motto was “Hoc age,” minded his + book. Rosa had intervals of attention to the words, but found plenty of + time to study the costumes. + </p> + <p> + During the Litany in bustled Clara, the housemaid, with a white jacket on + so like her mistress's, that Rosa clutched her own convulsively, to see + whether she had not been skinned of it by some devilish sleight-of-hand. + </p> + <p> + No, it was on her back; but Clara's was identical. + </p> + <p> + In her excitement, Rosa pinched Staines, and with her nose, that went like + a water-wagtail, pointed out the malefactor. Then she whispered, “Look! + How dare she? My very jacket! Earrings too, and brooches, and dresses her + hair like mine.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, never mind,” whispered Staines. “Sunday is her day. We have got all + the week to shine. There, don't look at her—'From all evil speaking, + lying, and slandering'”— + </p> + <p> + “I can't keep my eyes off her.” + </p> + <p> + “Attend to the Litany. Do you know, this is really a beautiful + composition?” + </p> + <p> + “I'd rather do the work fifty times over myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Hush! people will hear you.” + </p> + <p> + When they walked home after church, Staines tried to divert her from the + consideration of her wrongs; but no—all other topics were too flat + by comparison. + </p> + <p> + She mourned the hard fate of mistresses—unfortunate creatures that + could not do without servants. + </p> + <p> + “Is not that a confession that servants are good, useful creatures, with + all their faults? Then as to the mania for dress, why, that is not + confined to them. It is the mania of the sex. Are you free from it?” + </p> + <p> + “No, of course not. But I am a lady, if you please.” + </p> + <p> + “Then she is your intellectual inferior, and more excusable. Anyway, it is + wise to connive at a thing we can't help.” + </p> + <p> + “What keep her, after this? no, never.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear, pray do not send her away, for she is tidy in the house, and + quick, and better than any one we have had this last six months; and you + know you have tried a great number.” + </p> + <p> + “To hear you speak, one would think it was my fault that we have so many + bad servants.” + </p> + <p> + “I never said it was your fault; but I THINK, dearest, a little more + forbearance in trifles”— + </p> + <p> + “Trifles! trifles—for a mistress and maid to be seen dressed alike + in the same church? You take the servants' part against me, that you do.” + </p> + <p> + “You should not say that, even in jest. Come now, do you really think a + jacket like yours can make the servant look like you, or detract from your + grace and beauty? There is a very simple way; put your jacket by for a + future occasion, and wear something else in its stead at church.” + </p> + <p> + “A nice thing, indeed, to give in to these creatures. I won't do it.” + </p> + <p> + “Why won't you, this once?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I won't—there!” + </p> + <p> + “That is unanswerable,” said he. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Staines said that; but when it came to acting, she deferred to her + husband's wish; she resigned her intention of sending for Clara and giving + her warning. On the contrary, when Clara let her in, and the white jackets + rubbed together in the narrow passage, she actually said nothing, but + stalked to her own room, and tore her jacket off, and flung it on the + floor. + </p> + <p> + Unfortunately, she was so long dressing for the Zoo, that Clara came in to + arrange the room. She picks up the white jacket, takes it in both hands, + gives it a flap, and proceeds to hang it up in the wardrobe. + </p> + <p> + Then the great feminine heart burst its bounds. + </p> + <p> + “You can leave that alone. I shall not wear that again.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon ensued an uneven encounter, Clara being one of those of whom the + Scripture says, “The poison of asps is under their tongues.” + </p> + <p> + “La, ma'am,” said she, “why, 'tain't so very dirty.” + </p> + <p> + “No; but it is too common.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, because I've got one like it. Ay. Missises can't abide a good-looking + servant, nor to see 'em dressed becoming.” + </p> + <p> + “Mistresses do not like servants to forget their place, nor wear what does + not become their situation.” + </p> + <p> + “My situation! Why, I can pay my way, go where I will. I don't tremble at + the tradesmen's knock, as some do.” + </p> + <p> + “Leave the room! Leave it this moment.” + </p> + <p> + “Leave the room, yes—and I'll leave the house too, and tell all the + neighbors what I know about it.” + </p> + <p> + She flounced out and slammed the door; and Rosa sat down, trembling. + </p> + <p> + Clara rushed to the kitchen, and there told the cook and Andrew Pearman + how she had given it to the mistress, and every word she had said to her, + with a good many more she had not. + </p> + <p> + The cook laughed and encouraged her. + </p> + <p> + But Andrew Pearman was wroth, and said, “You to affront our mistress like + that! Why, if I had heard you, I'd have twisted your neck for ye.” + </p> + <p> + “It would take a better man than you to do that. You mind your own + business. Stick to your one-horse chay.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'm not above my place, for that matter. But you gals must always + be aping your betters.” + </p> + <p> + “I have got a proper pride, that is all, and you haven't. You ought to be + ashamed of yourself to do two men's work; drive a brougham and wait on a + horse, and then come in and wait at table, You are a tea-kettle groom, + that is what you are. Why, my brother was coachman to Lord Fitz-James, and + gave his lordship notice the first time he had to drive the children. Says + he, 'I don't object to the children, my lord, but with her ladyship in the + carriage.' It's such servants as you as spoil places. No servant as knows + what's due to a servant ought to know you. They'd scorn your 'quaintance, + as I do, Mr. Pearman.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a stuck-up hussy, and a soldier's jade,” roared Andrew. + </p> + <p> + “And you are a low tea-kettle groom.” + </p> + <p> + This expression wounded the great equestrian soul to the quick; the rest + of Sunday he pondered on it; the next morning he drove the doctor, as + usual, but with a heavy heart. + </p> + <p> + Meantime, the cook made haste and told the baker Pearman had “got it hot” + from the housemaid, and she had called him a tea-kettle groom; and in less + than half an hour after that it was in every stable in the mews. Why, as + Pearman was taking the horse out of the brougham, didn't two little + red-headed urchins call out, “Here, come and see the tea-kettle groom!” + and at night some mischievous boy chalked on the black door of the stable + a large white tea-kettle, and next morning a drunken, idle fellow, with a + clay pipe in his mouth, and a dirty pair of corduroy trousers, no coat, + but a shirt very open at the chest, showing inflamed skin, the effect of + drink, inspected that work of art with blinking eyes and vacillating toes, + and said, “This comes of a chap doing too much. A few more like you, and + work would be scarce. A fine thing for gentlefolks to make one man fill + two places! but it ain't the gentlefolks' fault, it's the man as humors + 'em.” + </p> + <p> + Pearman was a peaceable man, and made no reply, but went on with his work; + only during the day he told his master that he should be obliged to him if + he would fill his situation as soon as convenient. + </p> + <p> + The master inquired the cause, and the man told him, and said the mews was + too hot for him. + </p> + <p> + The doctor offered him five pounds a year more, knowing he had a treasure; + but Pearman said, with sadness and firmness, that he had made up his mind + to go, and go he would. + </p> + <p> + The doctor's heart fairly sank at the prospect of losing the one creature + he could depend upon. + </p> + <p> + Next Sunday evening Clara was out, and fell in with friends, to whom she + exaggerated her grievance. + </p> + <p> + Then they worked her up to fury, after the manner of servants' FRIENDS. + She came home, packed her box, brought it down, and then flounced into the + room to Doctor and Mrs. Staines, and said, “I shan't sleep another night + in this house.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa was about to speak, but Dr. Staines forbade her: he said, “You had + better think twice of that. You are a good servant, though for once you + have been betrayed into speaking disrespectfully. Why forfeit your + character, and three weeks' wages?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't care for my wages. I won't stay in such a house as this.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, you must not be impertinent.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't mean to, sir,” said she, lowering her voice suddenly; then, + raising it as suddenly, “There are my keys, ma'am, and you can search my + box.” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Staines will not search your box; and you will retire at once to + your own part of the house.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll go farther than that,” said she, and soon after the street door was + slammed; the Bijou shook. + </p> + <p> + At six o'clock next morning, she came for her box. It had been put away + for safety. Pearman told her she must wait till the doctor came down. She + did not wait, but went at eleven A.M. to a police-magistrate, and took out + a summons against Dr. Staines, for detaining a box containing certain + articles specified—value under fifteen pounds. + </p> + <p> + When Dr. Staines heard she had been for her box, but left no address, he + sent Pearman to hunt for her. He could not find her. She avoided the + house, but sent a woman for her diurnal love letters. Dr. Staines sent the + woman back to fetch her. She came, received her box, her letters, and the + balance of her wages, which was small, for Staines deducted the three + weeks' wages. + </p> + <p> + Two days afterwards, to his surprise, the summons was served. + </p> + <p> + Out of respect for a court of justice, however humble, Dr. Staines + attended next Monday to meet the summons. + </p> + <p> + The magistrate was an elderly man, with a face shaped like a hog's, but + much richer in color, being purple and pimply; so foul a visage Staines + had rarely seen, even in the lowest class of the community. + </p> + <p> + Clara swore that her box had been opened, and certain things stolen out of + it; and that she had been refused the box next morning. + </p> + <p> + Staines swore that he had never opened the box, and that, if any one else + had, it was with her consent, for she had left the keys for that purpose. + He bade the magistrate observe that if a servant went away like this, and + left no address, she put it out of the master's POWER to send her box + after her; and he proved he had some trouble to force the box on her. + </p> + <p> + The pig-faced beak showed a manifest leaning towards the servant, but + there wasn't a leg to stand on; and he did not believe, nor was it + credible, that anything had been stolen out of her box. + </p> + <p> + At this moment, Pearman, sent by Rosa, entered the court with an old gown + of Clara's that had been discovered in the scullery, and a scribbling-book + of the doctor's, which Clara had appropriated, and written amorous verses + in, very superior—in number—to those that have come down to us + from Anacreon. + </p> + <p> + “Hand me those,” said the pig-faced beak. + </p> + <p> + “What are they, Dr. Staines?” + </p> + <p> + “I really don't know. I must ask my servant.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, more things of mine that have been detained,” said Clara. + </p> + <p> + “Some things that have been found since she left,” said Staines. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! those that hide know where to find.” + </p> + <p> + “Young woman,” said Staines, “do not insult those whose bread you have + eaten, and who have given you many presents besides your wages. Since you + are so ready to accuse people of stealing, permit me to say that this book + is mine, and not yours; and yet, you see, it is sent after you because you + have written your trash in it.” + </p> + <p> + The purple, pig-faced beak went instantly out of the record, and wasted a + deal of time reading Clara's poetry, and trying to be witty. He raised the + question whose book this was. The girl swore that it WAS given her by a + lady who was now in Rome. Staines swore he bought it of a certain + stationer, and happening to have his passbook in his pocket, produced an + entry corresponding with the date of the book. + </p> + <p> + The pig-faced beak said that the doctor's was an improbable story, and + that the gown and the book were quite enough to justify the summons. + Verdict, one guinea costs. + </p> + <p> + “What, because two things she never demanded have been found and sent + after her? This is monstrous. I shall appeal to your superiors.” + </p> + <p> + “If you are impertinent I'll fine you five pounds.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, sir. Now hear me: if this is an honest judgment, I pray God I + may be dead before the year's out; and, if it isn't, I pray God you may + be.” + </p> + <p> + Then the pig-faced beak fired up, and threatened to fine him for + blaspheming. + </p> + <p> + He deigned no reply, but paid the guinea, and Clara swept out of the + court, with a train a yard long, and leaning on the arm of a scarlet + soldier who avenged Dr. Staines with military promptitude. + </p> + <p> + Christopher went home raging internally, for hitherto he had never seen so + gross a case of injustice. + </p> + <p> + One of his humble patients followed him, and said, “I wish I had known, + sir; you shouldn't have come here to be insulted. Why, no gentleman can + ever get justice against a servant girl when HE is sitting. It is + notorious, and that makes these hussies so bold. I've seen that jade here + with the same story twice afore.” + </p> + <p> + Staines reached home more discomposed than he could have himself believed. + The reason was that barefaced injustice in a court of justice shook his + whole faith in man. He opened the street door with his latch-key, and + found two men standing in the passage. He inquired what they wanted. + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir,” said one of them, civilly enough, “we only want our due.” + </p> + <p> + “For what?” + </p> + <p> + “For goods delivered at this house, sir. Balance of account.” And he + handed him a butcher's bill, L88, 11s. 5 1/2d. + </p> + <p> + “You must be mistaken; we run no bills here. We pay ready money for + everything.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir,” said the butcher, “there have been payments; but the balance + has always been gaining; and we have been put off so often, we determined + to see the master. Show you the books, sir, and welcome.” + </p> + <p> + “This instant, if you please.” He took the butcher's address, who then + retired, and the other tradesman, a grocer, told him a similar tale; + balance, sixty pounds odd. + </p> + <p> + He went to the butcher's, sick at heart, inspected the books, and saw + that, right or wrong, they were incontrovertible; that debt had been + gaining slowly, but surely, almost from the time he confided the accounts + to his wife. She had kept faith with him about five weeks, no more. + </p> + <p> + The grocer's books told a similar tale. + </p> + <p> + The debtor put his hand to his heart, and stood a moment. The very grocer + pitied him, and said, “There's no harry, doctor; a trifle on account, if + settlement in full not convenient just now. I see you have been kept in + the dark.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” said Christopher; “I'll pay every shilling.” He gave one gulp, + and hurried away. + </p> + <p> + At the fishmonger's, the same story, only for a smaller amount. + </p> + <p> + A bill of nineteen pounds at the very pastrycook's; a place she had + promised him, as her physician, never to enter. + </p> + <p> + At the draper's, thirty-seven pounds odd. + </p> + <p> + In short, wherever she had dealt, the same system: partial payments, and + ever-growing debt. + </p> + <p> + Remembering Madame Cie, he drove in a cab to Regent Street, and asked for + Mrs. Staines's account. + </p> + <p> + “Shall I send it, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “No; I will take it with me.” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Edwards, make out Mrs. Staines's account, if you please.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Edwards was a good while making it out; but it was ready at last. He + thrust it into his pocket, without daring to look at it there; but he went + into Verrey's, and asked for a cup of coffee, and perused the document. + </p> + <p> + The principal items were as follows:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + May 4. Re-shaping and repairing elegant lace mantle, 1 8 + Chip bonnet, feather, and flowers . . . . 4 4 + May 20. Making and trimming blue silk dress—material + part found . . . . . . . . . . . 19 19 + Five yards rich blue silk to match. . . . 4 2 + June 1. Polonaise and jacket trimmed with lace— + material part found . . . . . . . . 17 17 + June 8. One black silk dress, handsomely trimmed + with jet guipure and lace . . . . . . 49 18 +</pre> + <p> + A few shreds and fragments of finery, bought at odd times, swelled the + bill to L99 11s. 6d.—not to terrify the female mind with three + figures. + </p> + <p> + And let no unsophisticated young lady imagine that the trimmings, which + constituted three-fourths of this bill, were worth anything. The word + “lace,” in Madame Cie's bill, invariably meant machine-made trash, worth + tenpence a yard, but charged eighteen shillings a yard for one pennyworth + of work in putting it on. Where real lace was used, Madame Cie always LET + HER CUSTOMERS KNOW IT. Miss Lucas's bill for this year contained the two + following little items:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Rich gros de cecile polonaise and jacket to match, + trimmed with Chantilly lace and valenciennes . . . 68 5 + Superb robe de chambre, richly trimmed with skunk fur. 40 0 +</pre> + <p> + The customer found the stuff; viz., two shawls. Carolina found the nasty + little pole-cats, and got twenty-four shillings for them; Madame Cie found + THE REST. + </p> + <p> + But Christopher Staines had not Miss Lucas's bill to compare his wife's + with. He could only compare the latter with their income, and with male + notions of common sense and reason. + </p> + <p> + He went home, and into his studio, and sat down on his hard beech chair; + he looked round on his books and his work, and then, for the first time, + remembered how long and how patiently he had toiled for every hundred + pounds he had made; and he laid the evidences of his wife's profusion and + deceit by the side of those signs of painful industry and self-denial, and + his soul filled with bitterness. “Deceit! deceit!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Staines heard he was in the house, and came to know about the trial. + She came hurriedly in, and caught him with his head on the table, in an + attitude of prostration, quite new to him; he raised his head directly he + heard her, and revealed a face, pale, stern, and wretched. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! what is the matter now?” said she. + </p> + <p> + “The matter is what it has always been, if I could only have seen it. You + have deceived me, and disgraced yourself. Look at those bills.” + </p> + <p> + “What bills? Oh!” + </p> + <p> + “You have had an allowance for housekeeping.” + </p> + <p> + “It wasn't enough.” + </p> + <p> + “It was plenty, if you had kept faith with me, and paid ready money. It + was enough for the first five weeks. I am housekeeper now, and I shall + allow myself two pounds a week less, and not owe a shilling either.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, all I know is, I couldn't do it: no woman could.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, you should have come to me, and said so; and I would have shown you + how. Was I in Egypt, or at the North Pole, that you could not find me, to + treat me like a friend? You have ruined us: these debts will sweep away + the last shilling of our little capital; but it isn't that, oh, no! it is + the miserable deceit.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa's eye caught the sum total of Madame Cie's bill, and she turned pale. + “Oh, what a cheat that woman is!” + </p> + <p> + But she turned paler when Christopher said, “That is the one honest bill; + for I gave you leave. It is these that part us: these! these! Look at + them, false heart! There, go and pack up your things. We can live here no + longer; we are ruined. I must send you back to your father.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought you would, sooner or later,” said Mrs. Staines, panting, + trembling, but showing a little fight. “He told you I wasn't fit to be a + poor man's wife.” + </p> + <p> + “An honest man's wife, you mean: that is what you are not fit for. You + will go home to your father, and I shall go into some humble lodging to + work for you. I'll contrive to keep you, and find you a hundred a year to + spend in dress—the only thing your heart can really love. But I + won't have an enemy here in the disguise of a friend; and I won't have a + wife about me I must treat like a servant, and watch like a traitor.” + </p> + <p> + The words were harsh, but the agony with which they were spoken + distinguished them from vulgar vituperation. + </p> + <p> + They overpowered poor Rosa; she had been ailing a little some time, and + from remorse and terror, coupled with other causes, nature gave way. Her + lips turned white, she gasped inarticulately, and, with a little piteous + moan, tottered, and swooned dead away. + </p> + <p> + He was walking wildly about, ready to tear his hair, when she tottered; he + saw her just in time to save her, and laid her gently on the floor, and + kneeled over her. + </p> + <p> + Away went anger and every other feeling but love and pity for the poor, + weak creature that, with all her faults, was so lovable and so loved. + </p> + <p> + He applied no remedies at first: he knew they were useless and + unnecessary. He laid her head quite low, and opened door and window, and + loosened all her dress, sighing deeply all the time at her condition. + </p> + <p> + While he was thus employed, suddenly a strange cry broke from him: a cry + of horror, remorse, joy, tenderness, all combined: a cry compared with + which language is inarticulate. His swift and practical eye had made a + discovery. + </p> + <p> + He kneeled over her, with his eyes dilating and his hands clasped, a + picture of love and tender remorse. + </p> + <p> + She stirred. + </p> + <p> + Then he made haste, and applied his remedies, and brought her slowly back + to life; he lifted her up, and carried her in his arms quite away from the + bills and things, that, when she came to, she might see nothing to revive + her distress. He carried her to the drawing-room, and kneeled down and + rocked her in his arms, and pressed her again and again gently to his + heart, and cried over her. “O my dove, my dove! the tender creature God + gave me to love and cherish, and have I used it harshly? If I had only + known! if I had only known!” + </p> + <p> + While he was thus bemoaning her, and blaming himself, and crying over her + like the rain,—he, whom she had never seen shed a tear before in all + his troubles,—she was coming to entirely, and her quick ears caught + his words, and she opened her lovely eyes on him. + </p> + <p> + “I forgive you, dear,” she said feebly. “BUT I HOPE YOU WILL BE A KINDER + FATHER THAN A HUSBAND.” + </p> + <p> + These quiet words, spoken with rare gravity and softness, went through the + great heart like a knife. + </p> + <p> + He gave a sort of shiver, but said not a word. + </p> + <p> + But that night he made a solemn vow to God that no harsh word from his + lips should ever again strike a being so weak, so loving, and so beyond + his comprehension. Why look for courage and candor in a creature so timid + and shy, she could not even tell her husband THAT until, with her subtle + sense, she saw he had discovered it? + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII. + </h2> + <p> + To be a father; to have an image of his darling Rosa, and a fruit of their + love to live and work for: this gave the sore heart a heavenly glow, and + elasticity to bear. Should this dear object be born to an inheritance of + debt, of poverty? Never. + </p> + <p> + He began to act as if he was even now a father. He entreated Rosa not to + trouble or vex herself; he would look into their finances, and set all + straight. + </p> + <p> + He paid all the bills, and put by a quarter's rent and taxes. Then there + remained of his little capital just ten pounds. + </p> + <p> + He went to his printers, and had a thousand order-checks printed. These + forms ran thus:— + </p> + <p> + “Dr. Staines, of 13 Dear Street, Mayfair (blank for date), orders of + (blank here for tradesman and goods ordered), for cash. Received same time + (blank for tradesman's receipt). Notice: Dr. Staines disowns all orders + not printed on this form, and paid for at date of order.” + </p> + <p> + He exhibited these forms, and warned all the tradespeople, before a + witness whom he took round for that purpose. + </p> + <p> + He paid off Pearman on the spot. Pearman had met Clara, dressed like a + pauper, her soldier having emptied her box to the very dregs, and he now + offered to stay. But it was too late. + </p> + <p> + Staines told the cook Mrs. Staines was in delicate health, and must not be + troubled with anything. She must come to him for all orders. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” said she. But she no sooner comprehended the check system + fully than she gave warning. It put a stop to her wholesale pilfering. + Rosa's cooks had made fully a hundred pounds out of her amongst them since + she began to keep accounts. + </p> + <p> + Under the male housekeeper every article was weighed on delivery, and this + soon revealed that the butcher and the fishmonger had habitually delivered + short weight from the first, besides putting down the same thing twice. + The things were sent back that moment, with a printed form, stating the + nature and extent of the fraud. + </p> + <p> + The washerwoman, who had been pilfering wholesale so long as Mrs. Staines + and her sloppy-headed maids counted the linen, and then forgot it, was + brought up with a run, by triplicate forms, and by Staines counting the + things before two witnesses, and compelling the washerwoman to count them + as well, and verify or dispute on the spot. The laundress gave warning—a + plain confession that stealing had been part of her trade. + </p> + <p> + He kept the house well for three pounds a week, exclusive of coals, + candles, and wine. His wife had had five pounds, and whatever she asked + for dinner-parties, yet found it not half enough upon her method. + </p> + <p> + He kept no coachman. If he visited a patient, a man in the yard drove him + at a shilling per hour. + </p> + <p> + By these means, and by working like a galley slave, he dragged his + expenditure down almost to a level with his income. + </p> + <p> + Rosa was quite content at first, and thought herself lucky to escape + reproaches on such easy terms. + </p> + <p> + But by and by so rigorous a system began to gall her. One day she fancied + a Bath bun; sent the new maid to the pastry-cook's. Pastry-cook asked to + see the doctor's order. Maid could not show it, and came back bunless. + </p> + <p> + Rosa came into the study to complain to her husband. + </p> + <p> + “A Bath bun,” said Staines. “Why, they are colored with annotto, to save + an egg, and annotto is adulterated with chromates that are poison. + Adulteration upon adulteration. I'll make you a real Bath bun.” Off coat, + and into the kitchen, and made her three, pure, but rather heavy. He + brought them her in due course. She declined them languidly. She was off + the notion, as they say in Scotland. + </p> + <p> + “If I can't have a thing when I want it, I don't care for it at all.” Such + was the principle she laid down for his future guidance. + </p> + <p> + He sighed, and went back to his work; she cleared the plate. + </p> + <p> + One day, when she asked for the carriage, he told her the time was now + come for her to leave off carriage exercise. She must walk with him every + day, instead. + </p> + <p> + “But I don't like walking.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry for that. But it is necessary to you, and by and by your life + may depend on it.” + </p> + <p> + Quietly, but inexorably, he dragged her out walking every day. + </p> + <p> + In one of these walks she stopped at a shop window, and fell in love with + some baby's things. “Oh! I must have that,” said she. “I must. I shall die + if I don't; you'll see now.” + </p> + <p> + “You shall,” said he, “when I can pay for it,” and drew her away. + </p> + <p> + The tears of disappointment stood in her eyes, and his heart yearned over + her. But he kept his head. + </p> + <p> + He changed the dinner hour to six, and used to go out directly afterwards. + </p> + <p> + She began to complain of his leaving her alone like that. + </p> + <p> + “Well, but wait a bit,” said he; “suppose I am making a little money by + it, to buy you something you have set your heart on, poor darling!” + </p> + <p> + In a very few days after this, he brought her a little box with a slit in + it. He shook it, and money rattled; then he unlocked it, and poured out a + little pile of silver. “There,” said he, “put on your bonnet, and come and + buy those things.” + </p> + <p> + She put on her bonnet, and on the way she asked how it came to be all in + silver. + </p> + <p> + “That is a puzzler,” said he, “isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “And how did you make it, dear? by writing?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “By fees from the poor people?” + </p> + <p> + “What, undersell my brethren! Hang it, no! My dear, I made it honestly, + and some day I will tell you how I made it; at present, all I will tell + you is this: I saw my darling longing for something she had a right to + long for; I saw the tears in her sweet eyes, and—oh, come along, do. + I am wretched till I see you with the things in your hand.” + </p> + <p> + They went to the shop; and Staines sat and watched Rosa buying + baby-clothes. Oh, it was a pretty sight to see this modest young creature, + little more than a child herself, anticipating maternity, but blushing + every now and then, and looking askant at her lord and master. How his + very bowels yearned over her! + </p> + <p> + And when they got home, she spread the things on a table, and they sat + hand in hand, and looked at them, and she leaned her head on his shoulder, + and went quietly to sleep there. + </p> + <p> + And yet, as time rolled on, she became irritable at times, and impatient, + and wanted all manner of things she could not have, and made him unhappy. + </p> + <p> + Then he was out from six o'clock till one, and she took it into her head + to be jealous. So many hours to spend away from her! Now that she wanted + all his comfort. + </p> + <p> + Presently, Ellen, the new maid, got gossiping in the yard, and a groom + told her her master had a sweetheart on the sly, he thought; for he drove + the brougham out every evening himself; “and,” said the man, “he wears a + mustache at night.” + </p> + <p> + Ellen ran in, brimful of this, and told the cook; the cook told the + washerwoman; the washerwoman told a dozen families, till about two hundred + people knew it. + </p> + <p> + At last it came to Mrs. Staines in a roundabout way, at the very moment + when she was complaining to Lady Cicely Treherne of her hard lot. She had + been telling her she was nothing more than a lay-figure in the house. + </p> + <p> + “My husband is housekeeper now, and cook, and all, and makes me delicious + dishes, I can tell you; SUCH curries! I couldn't keep the house with five + pounds a week, so now he does it with three: and I never get the carriage, + because walking is best for me; and he takes it out every night to make + money. I don't understand it.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Cicely suggested that perhaps Dr. Staines thought it best for her to + be relieved of all worry, and so undertook the housekeeping. + </p> + <p> + “No, no, no,” said Rosa; “I used to pay them all a part of their bills, + and then a little more, and so I kept getting deeper; and I was ashamed to + tell Christie, so that he calls deceit; and oh, he spoke to me so cruelly + once! But he was very sorry afterwards, poor dear! Why are girls brought + up so silly? all piano, and no sense; and why are men sillier still to go + and marry such silly things? A wife! I am not so much as a servant. Oh, I + am finely humiliated, and,” with a sudden hearty naivete all her own, “it + serves me just right.” + </p> + <p> + While Lady Cicely was puzzling this out, in came a letter. Rosa opened it, + read it, and gave a cry like a wounded deer. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” she cried, “I am a miserable woman. What will become of me?” + </p> + <p> + The letter informed her bluntly that her husband drove his brougham out + every night to pursue a criminal amour. + </p> + <p> + While Rosa was wringing her hands in real anguish of heart, Lady Cicely + read the letter carefully. + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe this,” said she quietly. + </p> + <p> + “Not true! Why, who would be so wicked as to stab a poor, inoffensive + wretch like me, if it wasn't true?” + </p> + <p> + “The first ugly woman would, in a minute. Don't you see the witer can't + tell you where he goes? Dwives his bwougham out! That is all your + infaumant knows.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my dear friend, bless you! What have I been complaining to you about? + All is light, except to lose his love. What shall I do? I will never tell + him. I will never affront him by saying I suspected him.” + </p> + <p> + “Wosa, if you do that, you will always have a serpent gnawing you. No; you + must put the letter quietly into his hand, and say, 'Is there any truth in + that?'” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I could not. I haven't the courage. If I do that, I shall know by his + face if there is any truth in it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, and you must know the twuth. You shall know it. I want to know it + too; for if he does not love you twuly, I will nevaa twust myself to + anything so deceitful as a man.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa at last consented to follow this advice. + </p> + <p> + After dinner she put the letter into Christopher's hand, and asked him + quietly was there any truth in that: then her hands trembled, and her eyes + drank him. + </p> + <p> + Christopher read it, and frowned; then he looked up, and said, “No, not a + word. What scoundrels there are in the world! To go and tell you that, + NOW! Why, you little goose! have you been silly enough to believe it?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said she irresolutely. “But DO you drive the brougham out every + night?” + </p> + <p> + “Except Sunday.” + </p> + <p> + “Where?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear wife, I never loved you as I love you now; and if it was not for + you, I should not drive the brougham out of nights. That is all I shall + tell you at present; but some day I'll tell you all about it.” + </p> + <p> + He took such a calm high hand with her about it, that she submitted to + leave it there; but from this moment the serpent doubt nibbled her. + </p> + <p> + It had one curious effect, though. She left off complaining of trifles. + </p> + <p> + Now it happened one night that Lady Cicely Treherne and a friend were at a + concert in Hanover Square. The other lady felt rather faint, and Lady + Cicely offered to take her home. The carriages had not yet arrived, and + Miss Macnamara said to walk a few steps would do her good: a smart cabman + saw them from a distance and drove up, and touching his hat said, “Cab, + ladies?” + </p> + <p> + It seemed a very superior cab, and Miss Macnamara said “Yes” directly. + </p> + <p> + The cabman bustled down and opened the door; Miss Macnamara got in first, + then Lady Cicely; her eye fell on the cabman's face, which was lighted + full by a street-lamp, and it was Christopher Staines! + </p> + <p> + He started and winced; but the woman of the world never moved a muscle. + </p> + <p> + “Where to?” said Staines, averting his head. + </p> + <p> + She told him where, and when they got out, said, “I'll send it you by the + servant.” + </p> + <p> + A flunkey soon after appeared with half-a-crown, and the amateur coachman + drove away. He said to himself, “Come, my mustache is a better disguise + than I thought.” + </p> + <p> + Next day, and the day after, he asked Rosa, with affected carelessness, + had she heard anything of Lady Cicely. + </p> + <p> + “No, dear; but I dare say she will call this afternoon: it is her day.” + </p> + <p> + She did call at last, and after a few words with Rosa, became a little + restless, and asked if she might consult Dr. Staines. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, dear. Come to his studio.” + </p> + <p> + “No; might I see him here?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly.” She rang the bell, and told the servant to ask Dr. Staines if + he would be kind enough to step into the drawing-room. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Staines came in, and bowed to Lady Cicely, and eyed her a little + uncomfortably. + </p> + <p> + She began, however, in a way that put him quite at his ease. “You remember + the advice you gave us about my little cousin Tadcastah.” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly: his life is very precarious; he is bilious, consumptive, and, + if not watched, will be epileptical; and he has a fond, weak mother, who + will let him kill himself.” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly: and you wecommended a sea voyage, with a medical attendant to + watch his diet, and contwol his habits. Well, she took other advice, and + the youth is worse; so now she is fwightened, and a month ago she asked me + to pwopose to you to sail about with Tadcastah; and she offered me a + thousand pounds a year. I put on my stiff look, and said, 'Countess, with + every desiah to oblige you, I must decline to cawwy that offah to a man of + genius, learning, and weputation, who has the ball at his feet in + London.'” + </p> + <p> + “Lord forgive you, Lady Cicely.” + </p> + <p> + “Lord bless her for standing up for my Christie.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Cicely continued: “Now, this good lady, you must know, is not exactly + one of us: the late earl mawwied into cotton, or wool, or something. So + she said, 'Name your price for him.' I shwugged my shoulders, smiled + affably, and as affectedly as you like, and changed the subject. But since + then things have happened. I am afwaid it is my duty to make you the judge + whether you choose to sail about with that little cub—Rosa, I can + beat about the bush no longer. Is it a fit thing that a man of genius, at + whose feet we ought all to be sitting with reverence, should drive a cab + in the public streets? Yes, Rosa Staines, your husband drives his brougham + out at night, not to visit any other lady, as that anonymous wretch told + you, but to make a few misewable shillings for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Christie!” + </p> + <p> + “It is no use, Dr. Staines; I must and will tell her. My dear, he drove ME + three nights ago. He had a cabman's badge on his poor arm. If you knew + what I suffered in those five minutes! Indeed it seems cruel to speak of + it—but I could not keep it from Rosa, and the reason I muster + courage to say it before you, sir, it is because I know she has other + friends who keep you out of their consultations; and, after all, it is the + world that ought to blush, and not you.” + </p> + <p> + Her ladyship's kindly bosom heaved, and she wanted to cry; so she took her + handkerchief out of her pocket without the least hurry, and pressed it + delicately to her eyes, and did cry quietly, but without any disguise, + like a brave lady, who neither cried nor did anything else she was ashamed + to be seen at. + </p> + <p> + As for Rosa, she sat sobbing round Christopher's neck, and kissed him with + all her soul. + </p> + <p> + “Dear me!” said Christopher. “You are both very kind. But, begging your + pardon, it is much ado about nothing.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Cicely took no notice of that observation. “So, Rosa dear,” said she, + “I think you are the person to decide whether he had not better sail about + with that little cub, than—oh!” + </p> + <p> + “I will settle that,” said Staines. “I have one beloved creature to + provide for. I may have another. I MUST make money. Turning a brougham + into a cab, whatever you may think, is an honest way of making it, and I + am not the first doctor who has coined his brougham at night. But if there + is a good deal of money to be made by sailing with Lord Tadcaster, of + course I should prefer that to cab-driving, for I have never made above + twelve shillings a night.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, as to that, she shall give you fifteen hundred a year.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I jump at it.” + </p> + <p> + “What! and leave ME?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, love: leave you—for your good; and only for a time. Lady + Cicely, it is a noble offer. My darling Rosa will have every comfort—ay, + every luxury, till I come home, and then we will start afresh with a good + balance, and with more experience than we did at first.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Cicely gazed on him with wonder. She said, “Oh! what stout hearts men + have! No, no; don't let him go. See; he is acting. His great heart is torn + with agony. I will have no hand in parting man and wife—no, not for + a day.” And she hurried away in rare agitation. + </p> + <p> + Rosa fell on her knees, and asked Christopher's pardon for having been + jealous; and that day she was a flood of divine tenderness. She repaid him + richly for driving the cab. But she was unnaturally cool about Lady + Cicely; and the exquisite reason soon came out. “Oh yes! She is very good; + very kind; but it is not for me now! No! you shall not sail about with her + cub of a cousin, and leave me at such a time.” + </p> + <p> + Christopher groaned. + </p> + <p> + “Christie, you shall not see that lady again. She came here to part us. + SHE IS IN LOVE WITH YOU. I was blind not to see it before.” + </p> + <p> + Next day, as Lady Cicely sat alone in the morning-room thinking over this + very scene, a footman brought in a card and a note. “Dr. Staines begs + particularly to see Lady Cicely Treherne.” + </p> + <p> + The lady's pale cheek colored; she stood irresolute a single moment. “I + will see Dr. Staines,” said she. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Staines came in, looking pale and worn; he had not slept a wink since + she saw him last. + </p> + <p> + She looked at him full, and divined this at a glance. She motioned him to + a seat, and sat down herself, with her white hand pressing her forehead, + and her head turned a little away from him. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII. + </h2> + <p> + He told her he had come to thank her for her great kindness, and to accept + the offer. + </p> + <p> + She sighed. “I hoped it was to decline it. Think of the misery of + separation, both to you and her.” + </p> + <p> + “It will be misery. But we are not happy as it is, and she cannot bear + poverty. Nor is it fair she should, when I can give her every comfort by + just playing the man for a year or two.” He then told Lady Cicely there + were more reasons than he chose to mention: go he must, and would; and he + implored her not to let the affair drop. In short, he was sad but + resolved, and she found she must go on with it, or break faith with him. + She took her desk, and wrote a letter concluding the bargain for him. She + stipulated for half the year's fee in advance. She read Dr. Staines the + letter. + </p> + <p> + “You ARE a friend!” said he. “I should never have ventured on that; it + will be a godsend to my poor Rosa. You will be kind to her when I am + gone?” + </p> + <p> + “I will.” + </p> + <p> + “So will Uncle Philip, I think. I will see him before I go, and shake + hands. He has been a good friend to me; but he was too hard upon HER; and + I could not stand that.” + </p> + <p> + Then he thanked and blessed her again, with the tears in his eyes, and + left her more disturbed and tearful than she had ever been since she grew + to woman. “O cruel poverty!” she thought, “that such a man should be torn + from his home, and thank me for doing it—all for a little money—and + here are we poor commonplace creatures rolling in it.” + </p> + <p> + Staines hurried home, and told his wife. She clung to him convulsively, + and wept bitterly; but she made no direct attempt to shake his resolution; + she saw, by his iron look, that she could only afflict, not turn him. + </p> + <p> + Next day came Lady Cicely to see her. Lady Cicely was very uneasy in her + mind, and wanted to know whether Rosa was reconciled to the separation. + </p> + <p> + Rosa received her with a forced politeness and an icy coldness that + petrified her. She could not stay long in face of such a reception. At + parting, she said, sadly, “You look on me as an enemy.” + </p> + <p> + “What else can you expect, when you part my husband and me?” said Rosa, + with quiet sternness. + </p> + <p> + “I meant well,” said Lady Cicely sorrowfully; “but I wish I had never + interfered.” + </p> + <p> + “So do I,” and she began to cry. + </p> + <p> + Lady Cicely made no answer. She went quietly away, hanging her head sadly. + </p> + <p> + Rosa was unjust, but she was not rude nor vulgar; and Lady Cicely's temper + was so well governed that it never blinded her heart. She withdrew, but + without the least idea of quarrelling with her afflicted friend, or + abandoning her. She went quietly home, and wrote to Lady ——, + to say that she should be glad to receive Dr. Staines's advance as soon as + convenient, since Mrs. Staines would have to make fresh arrangements, and + the money might be useful. + </p> + <p> + The money was forthcoming directly. Lady Cicely brought it to Dear Street, + and handed it to Dr. Staines. His eyes sparkled at the sight of it. + </p> + <p> + “Give my love to Rosa,” said she softly, and cut her visit very short. + </p> + <p> + Staines took the money to Rosa, and said, “See what our best friend has + brought us. You shall have four hundred, and I hope, after the bitter + lessons you have had, you will be able to do with that for some months. + The two hundred I shall keep as a reserve fund for you to draw on.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no!” said Rosa. “I shall go and live with my father, and never spend + a penny. O Christie, if you knew how I hate myself for the folly that is + parting us! Oh, why don't they teach girls sense and money, instead of + music and the globes?” + </p> + <p> + But Christopher opened a banking account for her, and gave her a + check-book, and entreated her to pay everything by check, and run no bills + whatever; and she promised. He also advertised the Bijou, and put a bill + in the window: “The lease of this house, and the furniture, to be sold.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa cried bitterly at sight of it, thinking how high in hope they were, + when they had their first dinner there, and also when she went to her + first sale to buy the furniture cheap. + </p> + <p> + And now everything moved with terrible rapidity. The Amphitrite was to + sail from Plymouth in five days; and, meantime, there was so much to be + done, that the days seemed to gallop away. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Staines forgot nothing. He made his will in duplicate, leaving all to + his wife; he left one copy at Doctors' Commons and another with his + lawyer; inventoried all his furniture and effects in duplicate, too; wrote + to Uncle Philip, and then called on him to seek a reconciliation. + Unfortunately, Dr. Philip was in Scotland. At last this sad pair went down + to Plymouth together, there to meet Lord Tadcaster and go on board H.M.S. + Amphitrite, lying out at anchor, under orders for the Australian Station. + </p> + <p> + They met at the inn, as appointed; and sent word of their arrival on board + the frigate, asking to remain on shore till the last minute. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Staines presented his patient to Rosa; and after a little while drew + him apart and questioned him professionally. He then asked for a private + room. Here he and Rosa really took leave; for what could the poor things + say to each other on a crowded quay? He begged her forgiveness, on his + knees, for having once spoken harshly to her, and she told him, with + passionate sobs, he had never spoken harshly to her; her folly it was had + parted them. + </p> + <p> + Poor wretches! they clung together with a thousand vows of love and + constancy. They were to pray for each other at the same hours: to think of + some kind word or loving act, at other stated hours; and so they tried to + fight with their suffering minds against the cruel separation; and if + either should die, the other was to live wedded to memory, and never + listen to love from other lips; but no! God was pitiful; He would let them + meet again ere long, to part no more. They rocked in each other's arms; + they cried over each other—it was pitiful. + </p> + <p> + At last the cruel summons came; they shuddered, as if it was their + death-blow. Christopher, with a face of agony, was yet himself, and would + have parted then: and so best. But Rosa could not. She would see the last + of him, and became almost wild and violent when he opposed it. + </p> + <p> + Then he let her come with him to Milbay Steps; but into the boat he would + not let her step. + </p> + <p> + The ship's boat lay at the steps, manned by six sailors, all seated, with + their oars tossed in two vertical rows. A smart middy in charge conducted + them, and Dr. Staines and Lord Tadcaster got in, leaving Rosa, in charge + of her maid, on the quay. + </p> + <p> + “Shove off”—“Down”—“Give way.” + </p> + <p> + Each order was executed so swiftly and surely that, in as many seconds, + the boat was clear, the oars struck the water with a loud splash, and the + husband was shot away like an arrow, and the wife's despairing cry rang on + the stony quay, as many a poor woman's cry had rung before. + </p> + <p> + In half a minute the boat shot under the stern of the frigate. + </p> + <p> + They were received on the quarter-deck by Captain Hamilton: he introduced + them to the officers—a torture to poor Staines, to have his mind + taken for a single instant from his wife—the first lieutenant came + aft, and reported, “Ready for making sail, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Staines seized the excuse, rushed to the other side of the vessel, leaned + over the taffrail, as if he would fly ashore, and stretched out his hands + to his beloved Rosa; and she stretched out her hands to him. They were so + near, he could read the expression of her face. It was wild and troubled, + as one who did not yet realize the terrible situation, but would not be + long first. + </p> + <p> + “HANDS MAKE SAIL—AWAY, ALOFT—UP ANCHOR”—rang in + Christopher's ear, as if in a dream. All his soul and senses were bent on + that desolate young creature. How young and amazed her lovely face! Yet + this bewildered child was about to become a mother. Even a stranger's + heart might have yearned with pity for her: how much more her miserable + husband's! + </p> + <p> + The capstan was manned, and worked to a merry tune that struck chill to + the bereaved; yards were braced for casting, anchor hove, catted, and + fished, sail was spread with amazing swiftness, the ship's head dipped, + and slowly and gracefully paid off towards the breakwater, and she stood + out to sea under swiftly-swelling canvas and a light north-westerly + breeze. + </p> + <p> + Staines only felt the motion: his body was in the ship, his soul with his + Rosa. He gazed, he strained his eyes to see her eyes, as the ship glided + from England and her. While he was thus gazing and trembling all over, up + came to him a smart second lieutenant, with a brilliant voice that struck + him like a sword. “Captain's orders to show you berths; please choose for + Lord Tadcaster and yourself.” + </p> + <p> + The man's wild answer made the young officer stare. “Oh, sir! not now—try + and do my duty when I have quite lost her—my poor wife—a child—a + mother—there—sir—on the steps—there!—there!” + </p> + <p> + Now this officer always went to sea singing “Oh be joyful.” But a strong + man's agony, who can make light of it? It was a revelation to him; but he + took it quickly. The first thing he did, being a man of action, was to + dash into his cabin, and come back with a short, powerful double glass. + “There!” said he roughly, but kindly, and shoved it into Staines's hand. + He took it, stared at it stupidly, then used it, without a word of thanks, + so wrapped was he in his anguish. + </p> + <p> + This glass prolonged the misery of that bitter hour. When Rosa could no + longer tell her husband from another, she felt he was really gone, and she + threw her hands aloft, and clasped them above her head, with the wild + abandon of a woman who could never again be a child; and Staines saw it, + and a sharp sigh burst from him, and he saw her maid and others gather + round her. He saw the poor young thing led away, with her head all down, + as he had never seen her before, and supported to the inn; and then he saw + her no more. + </p> + <p> + His heart seemed to go out of his bosom in search of her, and leave + nothing but a stone behind: he hung over the taffrail like a dead thing. A + steady foot-fall slapped his ear. He raised his white face and filmy eyes, + and saw Lieutenant Fitzroy marching to and fro like a sentinel, keeping + everybody away from the mourner, with the steady, resolute, business-like + face of a man in whom sentiment is confined to action; its phrases and its + flourishes being literally terra incognita to the honest fellow. + </p> + <p> + Staines staggered towards him, holding out both hands, and gasped out, + “God bless you. Hide me somewhere—must not be seen SO—got duty + to do—Patient—can't do it yet—one hour to draw my breath—oh, + my God, my God!—one hour, sir. Then do my duty, if I die—as + you would.” + </p> + <p> + Fitzroy tore him down into his own cabin, shut him in and ran to the first + lieutenant, with a tear in his eye. “Can I have a sentry, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Sentry! What for?” + </p> + <p> + “The doctor—awfully cut up at leaving his wife: got him in my cabin. + Wants to have his cry to himself.” + </p> + <p> + “Fancy a fellow crying at going to sea!” + </p> + <p> + “It is not that, sir; it is leaving his wife.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, is he the only man on board that has got a wife?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, no, sir. It is odd, now I think of it. Perhaps he has only got that + ONE.” + </p> + <p> + “Curious creatures, landsmen,” said the first lieutenant. “However, you + can stick a marine there.” + </p> + <p> + “And I say, show the YOUNGSTER the berths, and let him choose, as the + doctor's aground.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + So Fitzoy planted his marine, and then went after Lord Tadcaster: he had + drawn up alongside his cousin, Captain Hamilton. The captain, being an + admirer of Lady Cicely, was mighty civil to his little lordship, and + talked to him more than was his wont on the quarterdeck; for though he had + a good flow of conversation, and dispensed with ceremony in his cabin, he + was apt to be rather short on deck. However, he told little Tadcaster he + was fortunate; they had a good start, and, if the wind held, might hope to + be clear of the Channel in twenty-four hours. “You will see Eddystone + lighthouse about four bells,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “Shall we go out of sight of land altogether?” inquired his lordship. + </p> + <p> + “Of course we shall, and the sooner the better.” He then explained to the + novice that the only danger to a good ship was from the land. + </p> + <p> + While Tadcaster was digesting this paradox, Captain Hamilton proceeded to + descant on the beauties of blue water and its fine medicinal qualities, + which, he said, were particularly suited to young gentlemen with bilious + stomachs, but presently, catching sight of Lieutenant Fitzroy standing + apart, but with the manner of a lieutenant not there by accident, he + stopped, and said, civilly but smartly, “Well, sir?” + </p> + <p> + Fitzroy came forward directly, saluted, and said he had orders from the + first lieutenant to show Lord Tadcaster the berths. His lordship must be + good enough to choose, because the doctor—couldn't. + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Brought to, sir—for the present—by—well, by grief.” + </p> + <p> + “Brought to by grief! Who the deuce is grief? No riddles on the + quarter-deck, if you please, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh no, sir. I assure you he is awfully cut up; and he is having his cry + out in my cabin.” + </p> + <p> + “Having his cry out! why, what for?” + </p> + <p> + “Leaving his wife, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, is that all?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don't wonder,” cried little Tadcaster warmly. “She is, oh, so + beautiful!” and a sudden blush o'erspread his pasty cheeks. “Why on earth + didn't we bring her along with us here?” said he, suddenly opening his + eyes with astonishment at the childish omission. + </p> + <p> + “Why, indeed?” said the captain comically, and dived below, attended by + the well-disciplined laughter of Lieutenant Fitzroy, who was too good an + officer not to be amused at his captain's jokes. Having acquitted himself + of that duty—and it is a very difficult one sometimes—he took + Lord Tadcaster to the main-deck, and showed him two comfortable + sleeping-berths that had been screened off for him and Dr. Staines; one of + these was fitted with a standing bed-place, the other had a cot swung in + it. Fitzroy offered him the choice, but hinted that he himself preferred a + cot. + </p> + <p> + “No, thank you,” says my lord mighty dryly. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Fitzroy cheerfully. “Take the other, then, my lord.” + </p> + <p> + His little lordship cocked his eye like a jackdaw, and looked almost as + cunning. “You see,” said he, “I have been reading up for this voyage.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, indeed! Logarithms?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course not.” + </p> + <p> + “What then?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, 'Peter Simple'—to be sure.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, ha!” said Fitzroy, with a chuckle that showed plainly he had some + delicious reminiscences of youthful study in the same quarter. + </p> + <p> + The little lord chuckled too, and put one finger on Fitzroy's shoulder, + and pointed at the cot with another. “Tumble out the other side, you know—slippery + hitches—cords cut—down you come flop in the middle of the + night.” + </p> + <p> + Fitzroy's eye flashed merriment: but only for a moment. His countenance + fell the next. “Lord bless you,” said he sorrowfully, “all that game is + over now. Her Majesty's ship!—it is a church afloat. The service is + going to the devil, as the old fogies say.” + </p> + <p> + “Ain't you sorry?” says the little lord, cocking his eye again like the + bird hereinbefore mentioned. + </p> + <p> + “Of course I am.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I'll take the standing bed.” + </p> + <p> + “All right. I say, you don't mind the doctor coming down with a run, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “He is not ill: I am. He is paid to take care of me: I am not paid to take + care of him,” said the young lord sententiously. + </p> + <p> + “I understand,” replied Fitzroy, dryly. “Well, every one for himself, and + Providence for us all—as the elephant said when he danced among the + chickens.” + </p> + <p> + Here my lord was summoned to dine with the captain. Staines was not there; + but he had not forgotten his duty; in the midst of his grief he had + written a note to the captain, hoping that a bereaved husband might not + seem to desert his post if he hid for a few hours the sorrow he felt + himself unable to control. Meantime he would be grateful if Captain + Hamilton would give orders that Lord Tadcaster should eat no pastry, and + drink only six ounces of claret, otherwise he should feel that he was + indeed betraying his trust. + </p> + <p> + The captain was pleased and touched with this letter. It recalled to him + how his mother sobbed when she launched her little middy, swelling with + his first cocked hat and dirk. + </p> + <p> + There was champagne at dinner, and little Tadcaster began to pour out a + tumbler. “Hold on!” said Captain Hamilton; “you are not to drink that;” + and he quietly removed the tumbler. “Bring him six ounces of claret.” + </p> + <p> + While they were weighing the claret with scientific precision, Tadcaster + remonstrated; and, being told it was the doctor's order, he squeaked out, + “Confound him! why did not he stay with his wife? She is beautiful.” Nor + did he give it up without a struggle. “Here's hospitality!” said he. “Six + ounces!” + </p> + <p> + Receiving no reply, he inquired of the third lieutenant, which was + generally considered the greatest authority in a ship—the captain, + or the doctor. + </p> + <p> + The third lieutenant answered not, but turned his head away, and, by + violent exertion, succeeded in not splitting. + </p> + <p> + “I'll answer that,” said Hamilton politely. “The captain is the highest in + his department, and the doctor in his: now Doctor Staines is strictly + within his department, and will be supported by me and my officers. You + are bilious, and epileptical, and all the rest of it, and you are to be + cured by diet and blue water.” + </p> + <p> + Tadcaster was inclined to snivel: however, he subdued that weakness with a + visible effort, and, in due course, returned to the charge. “How would you + look,” quavered he, “if there was to be a mutiny in this ship of yours, + and I was to head it?' + </p> + <p> + “Well, I should look SHARP—hang all the ringleaders at the yardarm, + clap the rest under hatches, and steer for the nearest prison.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Tadcaster, and digested this scheme a bit. At last he perked up + again, and made his final hit. “Well, I shouldn't care, for one, if you + didn't flog us.” + </p> + <p> + “In that case,” said Captain Hamilton, “I'd flog you—and stop your + six ounces.” + </p> + <p> + “Then curse the sea; that is all I say.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, you have not seen it; you have only seen the British Channel.” It + was Mr. Fitzroy who contributed this last observation. + </p> + <p> + After dinner all but the captain went on deck, and saw the Eddystone + lighthouse ahead and to leeward. They passed it. Fitzroy told his lordship + its story, and that of its unfortunate predecessors. Soon after this Lord + Tadcaster turned in. + </p> + <p> + Presently the captain observed a change in the thermometer, which brought + him on deck. He scanned the water and the sky, and as these experienced + commanders have a subtle insight into the weather, especially in familiar + latitudes, he remarked to the first lieutenant that it looked rather + unsettled; and, as a matter of prudence, ordered a reef in the topsails, + and the royal yards to be sent down: ship to be steered W. by S. This + done, he turned in, but told them to call him if there was any change in + the weather. + </p> + <p> + During the night the wind gradually headed; and at four bells in the + middle watch a heavy squall came up from the south-west. + </p> + <p> + This brought the captain on deck again: he found the officer of the watch + at his post, and at work. Sail was shortened, and the ship made snug for + heavy weather. + </p> + <p> + At four A.M. it was blowing hard, and, being too near the French coast, + they wore the ship. + </p> + <p> + Now, this operation was bad for little Tadcaster. While the vessel was on + the starboard tack, the side kept him snug; but, when they wore her, of + course he had no leeboard to keep him in. The ship gave a lee-lurch, and + shot him clean out of his bunk into the middle of the cabin. + </p> + <p> + He shrieked and shrieked, with terror and pain, till the captain and + Staines, who were his nearest neighbors, came to him, and they gave him a + little brandy, and got him to bed again. Here he suffered nothing but + violent seasickness for some hours. As for Staines, he had been swinging + heavily in his cot; but such was his mental distress that he would have + welcomed seasickness, or any reasonable bodily suffering. He was in that + state when the sting of a wasp is a touch of comfort. + </p> + <p> + Worn out with sickness, Tadcaster would not move. Invited to breakfast, he + swore faintly, and insisted on dying in peace. At last exhaustion gave him + a sort of sleep, in spite of the motion, which was violent, for it was now + blowing great guns, a heavy sea on, and the great waves dirty in color and + crested with raging foam. + </p> + <p> + They had to wear ship again, always a ticklish manoeuvre in weather like + this. + </p> + <p> + A tremendous sea struck her quarter, stove in the very port abreast of + which the little lord was lying, and washed him clean out of bed into the + lee scuppers, and set all swimming around him. + </p> + <p> + Didn't he yell, and wash about the cabin, and grab at all the chairs and + tables and things that drifted about, nimble as eels, avoiding his grasp! + </p> + <p> + In rushed the captain, and in staggered Staines. They stopped his “voyage + autour de sa chambre,” and dragged him into the after saloon. + </p> + <p> + He clung to them by turns, and begged, with many tears, to be put on the + nearest land; a rock would do. + </p> + <p> + “Much obliged,” said the captain; “now is the very time to give rocks a + wide berth.” + </p> + <p> + “A dead whale, then—a lighthouse—anything but a beast of a + ship.” + </p> + <p> + They pacified him with a little brandy, and for the next twenty-four hours + he scarcely opened his mouth, except for a purpose it is needless to dwell + on. We can trust to our terrestrial readers' personal reminiscences of + lee-lurches, weather-rolls, and their faithful concomitant. + </p> + <p> + At last they wriggled out of the Channel, and soon after that the wind + abated, and next day veered round to the northward, and the ship sailed + almost on an even keel. The motion became as heavenly as it had been + diabolical, and the passengers came on deck. + </p> + <p> + Staines had suffered one whole day from sea-sickness, but never + complained. I believe it did his mind more good than harm. + </p> + <p> + As for Tadcaster, he continued to suffer, at intervals, for two days more, + but on the fifth day out he appeared with a little pink tinge on his cheek + and a wolfish appetite. Dr. Staines controlled his diet severely, as to + quality, and, when they had been at sea just eleven days, the physician's + heavy heart was not a little lightened by the marvellous change in him. + The unthinking, who believe in the drug system, should have seen what a + physician can do with air and food, when circumstances enable him to + ENFORCE the diet he enjoins. Money will sometimes buy even health, if you + AVOID DRUGS ENTIRELY, and go another road. + </p> + <p> + Little Tadcaster went on board, pasty, dim-eyed, and very subject to fits, + because his stomach was constantly overloaded with indigestible trash, and + the blood in his brain-vessels was always either galloping or creeping, + under the first or second effect of stimulants administered, at first, by + thoughtless physicians. Behold him now—bronzed, pinky, bright-eyed, + elastic; and only one fit in twelve days. + </p> + <p> + The quarter-deck was hailed from the “look-out” with a cry that is + sometimes terrible, but in this latitude and weather welcome and exciting. + “Land, ho!” + </p> + <p> + “Where away?” cried the officer of the watch. + </p> + <p> + “A point on the lee-bow, sir.” + </p> + <p> + It was the island of Madeira: they dropped anchor in Funchal Roads, furled + sails, squared yards, and fired a salute of twenty-one guns for the + Portuguese flag. + </p> + <p> + They went ashore, and found a good hotel, and were no longer dosed, as in + former days, with oil, onions, garlic, eggs. But the wine queer, and no + madeira to be got. + </p> + <p> + Staines wrote home to his wife: he told her how deeply he had felt the + bereavement; but did not dwell on that; his object being to cheer her. He + told her it promised to be a rapid and wonderful cure, and one that might + very well give him a fresh start in London. They need not be parted a + whole year, he thought. He sent her a very long letter, and also such + extracts from his sea journal as he thought might please her. After dinner + they inspected the town, and what struck them most was to find the streets + paved with flag-stones, and most of the carts drawn by bullocks on + sledges. A man every now and then would run forward and drop a greasy + cloth in front of the sledge, to lubricate the way. + </p> + <p> + Next day, after breakfast, they ordered horses; these on inspection, + proved to be of excellent breed, either from Australia or America—very + rough shod, for the stony roads. Started for the Grand Canal—peeped + down that mighty chasm, which has the appearance of an immense mass having + been blown out of the centre of the mountain. + </p> + <p> + They lunched under the great dragon tree near its brink, then rode back + admiring the bold mountain scenery. Next morning at dawn, rode on horses + up the hill to the convent. Admired the beautiful gardens on the way. + Remained a short time; then came down in hand-sleighs—little baskets + slung on sledges, guided by two natives; these sledges run down the hill + with surprising rapidity, and the men guide them round corners by sticking + out a foot to port or starboard. + </p> + <p> + Embarked at 11.30 A.M. + </p> + <p> + At 1.30, the men having dined, the ship was got under way for the Cape of + Good Hope, and all sail made for a southerly course, to get into the + north-east trades. + </p> + <p> + The weather was now balmy and delightful, and so genial that everybody + lived on deck, and could hardly be got to turn in to their cabins, even + for sleep. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Staines became a favorite with the officers. There is a great deal of + science on board a modern ship of war, and, of course, on some points + Staines, a Cambridge wrangler, and a man of many sciences and books, was + an oracle. On others he was quite behind, but a ready and quick pupil. He + made up to the navigating officer, and learned, with his help, to take + observations. In return he was always at any youngster's service in a + trigonometrical problem; and he amused the midshipmen and young + lieutenants with analytical tests; some of these were applicable to + certain liquids dispensed by the paymaster. Under one of them the port + wine assumed some very droll colors and appearances not proper to + grape-juice. + </p> + <p> + One lovely night that the ship clove the dark sea into a blaze of + phosphorescence, and her wake streamed like a comet's tail, a waggish + middy got a bucketful hoisted on deck, and asked the doctor to analyze + that. He did not much like it, but yielded to the general request; and by + dividing it into smaller vessels, and dropping in various chemicals, made + rainbows and silvery flames and what not. But he declined to repeat the + experiment: “No, no; once is philosophy; twice is cruelty. I've slain more + than Samson already.” + </p> + <p> + As for Tadcaster, science had no charms for him; but fiction had; and he + got it galore; for he cruised about the forecastle, and there the + quartermasters and old seamen spun him yarns that held him breathless. + </p> + <p> + But one day my lord had a fit on the quarter-deck, and a bad one; and + Staines found him smelling strong of rum. He represented this to Captain + Hamilton. The captain caused strict inquiries to be made, and it came out + that my lord had gone among the men, with money in both pockets, and + bought a little of one man's grog, and a little of another, and had been + sipping the furtive but transient joys of solitary intoxication. + </p> + <p> + Captain Hamilton talked to him seriously; told him it was suicide. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind, old boy,” said the young monkey; “a short life and a merry + one.” + </p> + <p> + Then Hamilton represented that it was very ungentleman-like to go and + tempt poor Jack with his money, to offend discipline, and get flogged. + “How will you feel, Tadcaster, when you see their backs bleeding under the + cat?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, d—n it all, George, don't do that,” says the young gentleman, + all in a hurry. + </p> + <p> + Then the commander saw he had touched the right chord. So he played on it, + till he got Lord Tadcaster to pledge his honor not to do it again. + </p> + <p> + The little fellow gave the pledge, but relieved his mind as follows: “But + it is a cursed tyrannical hole, this tiresome old ship. You can't do what + you like in it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, but no more you can in the grave: and that is the agreeable + residence you were hurrying to but for this tiresome old ship.” + </p> + <p> + “Lord! no more you can,” said Tadcaster, with sudden candor. “I FORGOT + THAT.” + </p> + <p> + The airs were very light; the ship hardly moved. It was beginning to get + dull, when one day a sail was sighted on the weather-bow, standing to the + eastward: on nearing her, she was seen, by the cut of her sails, to be a + man-of-war, evidently homeward bound: so Captain Hamilton ordered the + main-royal to be lowered (to render signal more visible) and the “demand” + hoisted. No notice being taken of this, a gun was fired to draw her + attention to the signal. This had the desired effect; down went her + main-royal, up went her “number.” On referring to the signal book, she + proved to be the Vindictive from the Pacific Station. + </p> + <p> + This being ascertained, Captain Hamilton, being that captain's senior, + signalled “Close and prepare to receive letters.” In obedience to this she + bore up, ran down, and rounded to; the sail in the Amphitrite was also + shortened, the maintopsail laid to the mast, and a boat lowered. The + captain having finished his despatches, they, with the letter-bags, were + handed into the boat, which shoved off, pulled to the lee side of the + Vindictive, and left the despatches, with Captain Hamilton's compliments. + On its return, both ships made sail on their respective course, exchanging + “bon voyage” by signal, and soon the upper sails of the homeward-bounder + were seen dipping below the horizon: longing eyes followed her on board + the Amphitrite. + </p> + <p> + How many hurried missives had been written and despatched in that + half-hour. But as for Staines, he was a man of forethought, and had a + volume ready for his dear wife. + </p> + <p> + Lord Tadcaster wrote to Lady Cicely Treherne. His epistle, though brief, + contained a plum or two. + </p> + <p> + He wrote: “What with sailing, and fishing, and eating nothing but roast + meat, I'm quite another man.” + </p> + <p> + This amused her ladyship a little, but not so much as the postscript, + which was indeed the neatest thing in its way she had met with, and she + had some experience, too. + </p> + <p> + “P.S.—I say, Cicely, I think I should like to marry you. Would you + mind?” + </p> + <p> + Let us defy time and space to give you Lady Cicely's reply: “I should + enjoy it of all things, Taddy. But, alas! I am too young.” + </p> + <p> + N.B.—She was twenty-seven, and Tad sixteen. To be sure, Tad was four + feet eleven, and she was only five feet six and a half. + </p> + <p> + To return to my narrative (with apologies), this meeting of the vessels + caused a very agreeable excitement that day; but a greater was in store. + In the afternoon, Tadcaster, Staines, and the principal officers of the + ship, being at dinner in the captain's cabin, in came the officer of the + watch, and reported a large spar on the weather-bow. + </p> + <p> + “Well, close it, if you can; and let me know if it looks worth picking + up.” + </p> + <p> + He then explained to Lord Tadcaster that, on a cruise, he never liked to + pass a spar, or anything that might possibly reveal the fate of some + vessel or other. + </p> + <p> + In the middle of his discourse the officer came in again, but not in the + same cool business way: he ran in excitedly, and said, “Captain, the + signalman reports it ALIVE!” + </p> + <p> + “Alive?—a spar! What do you mean? Something alive ON it, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir; alive itself.” + </p> + <p> + “How can that be? Hail him again. Ask him what it is.” + </p> + <p> + The officer went out, and hailed the signalman at the mast-head. “What is + it?” + </p> + <p> + “Sea-sarpint, I think.” + </p> + <p> + This hail reached the captain's ears faintly. However, he waited quietly + till the officer came in and reported it; then he burst out, “Absurd! + there is no such creature in the universe. What do you say, Dr. Staines?—It + is in your department.” + </p> + <p> + “The universe in my department, captain?” + </p> + <p> + “Haw! haw! haw!” went Fitzroy and two more. + </p> + <p> + “No, you rogue, the serpent.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Staines, thus appealed to, asked the captain if he had ever seen small + snakes out at sea. + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course. Sailed through a mile of them once, in the archipelago.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure they were snakes?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite sure; and the biggest was not eight feet long.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, captain; then sea-serpents exist, and it becomes a mere + question of size. Now which produces the larger animals in every kind,—land + or sea? The grown elephant weighs, I believe, about five tons. The very + smallest of the whale tribe weighs ten; and they go as high as forty tons. + There are smaller fish than the whale, that are four times as heavy as the + elephant. Why doubt, then, that the sea can breed a snake to eclipse the + boa-constrictor? Even if the creature had never been seen, I should, by + mere reasoning from analogy, expect the sea to produce a serpent excelling + the boa-constrictor, as the lobster excels a crayfish of our rivers: see + how large things grow at sea! the salmon born in our rivers weighs in six + months a quarter of a pound, or less; it goes out to sea, and comes back + in one year weighing seven pounds. So far from doubting the large + sea-serpents, I believe they exist by the million. The only thing that + puzzles me is, why they should ever show a nose above water; they must be + very numerous, I think.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Hamilton laughed, and said, “Well, this IS new. Doctor, in + compliment to your opinion, we will go on deck, and inspect the reptile + you think so common.” He stopped at the door, and said, “Doctor, the + saltcellar is by you. Would you mind bringing it on deck? We shall want a + little to secure the animal.” + </p> + <p> + So they all went on deck right merrily. + </p> + <p> + The captain went up a few ratlines in the mizzen rigging, and looked to + windward, laughing all the time: but, all of a sudden, there was a great + change in his manner. “Good heavens, it is alive—LUFF!” + </p> + <p> + The helmsman obeyed; the news spread like wildfire. Mess kids, grog kids, + pipes, were all let fall, and some three hundred sailors clustered on the + rigging like bees, to view the long-talked-of monster. + </p> + <p> + It was soon discovered to be moving lazily along, the propelling part + being under water, and about twenty-five feet visible. It had a small head + for so large a body, and, as they got nearer, rough scales were seen, + ending in smaller ones further down the body. It had a mane, but not like + a lion's, as some have pretended. If you have ever seen a pony with a + hog-mane, that was more the character of this creature's mane, if mane it + was. + </p> + <p> + They got within a hundred yards of it, and all saw it plainly, scarce + believing their senses. + </p> + <p> + When they could get no nearer for the wind, the captain yielded to that + instinct which urges man always to kill a curiosity, “to encourage the + rest,” as saith the witty Voltaire. “Get ready a gun—best shot in + the ship lay and fire it.” + </p> + <p> + This was soon done. Bang went the gun. The shot struck the water close to + the brute, and may have struck him under water, for aught I know. Any way, + it sorely disturbed him; for he reared into the air a column of serpent's + flesh that looked as thick as the maintopmast of a seventy-four, opened a + mouth that looked capacious enough to swallow the largest buoy anchor in + the ship, and, with a strange grating noise between a bark and a hiss, + dived, and was seen no more. + </p> + <p> + When he was gone, they all looked at one another like men awaking from a + dream. + </p> + <p> + Staines alone took it quite coolly. It did not surprise him in the least. + He had always thought it incredible that the boa-constrictor should be + larger than any sea-snake. That idea struck him as monstrous and absurd. + He noted the sea-serpent in his journal, but with this doubt, “Semble—more + like a very large eel.” + </p> + <p> + Next day they crossed the line. Just before noon a young gentleman burst + into Staines's cabin, apologizing for want of ceremony; but if Dr. Staines + would like to see the line, it was now in sight from the mizzentop. + </p> + <p> + “Glad of it, sir,” said Staines; “collect it for me in the ship's buckets, + if you please. I want to send A LINE to friends at home.” + </p> + <p> + Young gentleman buried his hands in his pockets, walked out in solemn + silence, and resumed his position on the lee-side of the quarter-deck. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, this opening, coupled with what he had heard and read, made + Staines a little uneasy, and he went to his friend Fitzroy, and said, + “Now, look here: I am at the service of you experienced and humorous + mariners. I plead guilty at once to the crime of never having passed the + line; so, make ready your swabs, and lather me; your ship's scraper, and + shave me; and let us get it over. But Lord Tadcaster is nervous, + sensitive, prouder than he seems, and I'm not going to have him driven + into a fit for all the Neptunes and Amphitrites in creation.” + </p> + <p> + Fitzroy heard him out, then burst out laughing. “Why, there is none of + that game in the Royal Navy,” said he. “Hasn't been this twenty years.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm so sorry,” said Dr. Staines. “If there's a form of wit I revere, it + is practical joking.” + </p> + <p> + “Doctor, you are a satirical beggar.” + </p> + <p> + Staines told Tadcaster, and he went forward and chaffed his friend the + quartermaster, who was one of the forecastle wits. + </p> + <p> + “I say, quartermaster, why doesn't Neptune come on board?” + </p> + <p> + Dead silence. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder what has become of poor old Nep?” + </p> + <p> + “Gone ashore!” growled the seaman. “Last seen in Rateliff Highway. Got a + shop there—lends a shilling in the pound on seamen's advance + tickets.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! and Amphitrite?” + </p> + <p> + “Married the sexton at Wapping.” + </p> + <p> + “And the Nereids?” + </p> + <p> + “Neruds!” (scratching his head.) “I harn't kept my eye on them small + craft. But I BELIEVE they are selling oysters in the port of Leith.” + </p> + <p> + A light breeze carried them across the equator; but soon after they got + becalmed, and it was dreary work, and the ship rolled gently, but + continuously, and upset Lord Tadcaster's stomach again, and quenched his + manly spirit. + </p> + <p> + At last they were fortunate enough to catch the southeast trade, but it + was so languid at first that the ship barely moved through the water, + though they set every stitch, and studding sails alow and aloft, till + really she was acres of canvas. + </p> + <p> + While she was so creeping along, a man in the mizzentop noticed an + enormous shark gliding steadily in her wake. This may seem a small + incident, yet it ran through the ship like wildfire, and caused more or + less uneasiness in three hundred stout hearts; so near is every seaman to + death, and so strong the persuasion in their superstitious minds, that a + shark does not follow a ship pertinaciously without a prophetic instinct + of calamity. + </p> + <p> + Unfortunately, the quartermaster conveyed this idea to Lord Tadcaster, and + confirmed it by numerous examples to prove that there was always death at + hand when a shark followed the ship. + </p> + <p> + Thereupon Tadcaster took it into his head that he was under a relapse, and + the shark was waiting for his dead body: he got quite low-spirited. + </p> + <p> + Staines told Fitzroy. Fitzroy said, “Shark be hanged! I'll have him on + deck in half an hour.” He got leave from the captain: a hook was baited + with a large piece of pork, and towed astern by a stout line, experienced + old hands attending to it by turns. + </p> + <p> + The shark came up leisurely, surveyed the bait, and, I apprehend, + ascertained the position of the hook. At all events, he turned quietly on + his back, sucked the bait off, and retired to enjoy it. + </p> + <p> + Every officer in the ship tried him in turn, but without success; for, if + they got ready for him, and, the moment he took the bait, jerked the rope + hard, in that case he opened his enormous mouth so wide that the bait and + hook came out clear. But, sooner or later, he always got the bait, and + left his captors the hook. + </p> + <p> + This went on for days, and his huge dorsal fin always in the ship's wake. + </p> + <p> + Then Tadcaster, who had watched these experiments with hope, lost his + spirit and appetite. + </p> + <p> + Staines reasoned with him, but in vain. Somebody was to die; and, although + there were three hundred and more in the ship, he must be the one. At last + he actually made his will, and threw himself into Staines's arms, and gave + him messages to his mother and Lady Cicely; and ended by frightening + himself into a fit. + </p> + <p> + This roused Staines's pity, and also put him on his mettle. What, science + be beaten by a shark! + </p> + <p> + He pondered the matter with all his might; and at last an idea came to + him. + </p> + <p> + He asked the captain's permission to try his hand. This was accorded + immediately, and the ship's stores placed at his disposal very politely, + but with a sly, comical grin. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Staines got from the carpenter some sheets of zinc and spare copper, + and some flannel: these he cut into three-inch squares, and soaked the + flannel in acidulated water. He then procured a quantity of bell-wire, the + greater part of which he insulated by wrapping it round with hot gutta + percha. So eager was he, that he did not turn in all night. + </p> + <p> + In the morning he prepared what he called an electric fuse—he filled + a soda-water bottle with gunpowder, attaching some cork to make it + buoyant, put in the fuse and bung, made it water-tight, connected and + insulated his main wires—enveloped the bottle in pork—tied a + line to it, and let the bottle overboard. + </p> + <p> + The captain and officers shook their heads mysteriously. The tars peeped + and grinned from every rope to see a doctor try and catch a shark with a + soda-water bottle and no hook; but somehow the doctor seemed to know what + he was about, so they hovered round, and awaited the result, mystified, + but curious, and showing their teeth from ear to ear. + </p> + <p> + “The only thing I fear,” said Staines, “is that, the moment he takes the + bait, he will cut the wire before I can complete the circuit, and fire the + fuse.” + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, there was another objection to the success of the + experiment. The shark had disappeared. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said the captain, “at all events, you have frightened him away.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said little Tadcaster, white as a ghost; “he is only under water, I + know; waiting—waiting.” + </p> + <p> + “There he is,” cried one in the ratlines. + </p> + <p> + There was a rush to the taffrail—great excitement. + </p> + <p> + “Keep clear of me,” said Staines quietly but firmly. “It can only be done + at the moment before he cuts the wire.” + </p> + <p> + The old shark swam slowly round the bait. + </p> + <p> + He saw it was something new. + </p> + <p> + He swam round and round it. + </p> + <p> + “He won't take it,” said one. + </p> + <p> + “He suspects something.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, he will take the meat somehow, and leave the pepper. Sly old + fox!” + </p> + <p> + “He has eaten many a poor Jack, that one.” + </p> + <p> + The shark turned slowly on his back, and, instead of grabbing at the bait, + seemed to draw it by gentle suction into that capacious throat, ready to + blow it out in a moment if it was not all right. + </p> + <p> + The moment the bait was drawn out of sight, Staines completed the circuit; + the bottle exploded with a fury that surprised him and everybody who saw + it; a ton of water flew into the air, and came down in spray, and a gory + carcass floated, belly uppermost, visibly staining the blue water. + </p> + <p> + There was a roar of amazement and applause. + </p> + <p> + The carcass was towed alongside, at Tadcaster's urgent request, and then + the power of the explosion was seen. Confined, first by the bottle, then + by the meat, then by the fish, and lastly by the water, it had exploded + with tenfold power, had blown the brute's head into a million atoms, and + had even torn a great furrow in its carcass, exposing three feet of the + backbone. + </p> + <p> + Taddy gloated on his enemy, and began to pick up again from that hour. + </p> + <p> + The wind improved, and, as usual in that latitude, scarcely varied a + point. They had a pleasant time,—private theatricals and other + amusements till they got to latitude 26 deg. S. and longitude 27 deg. W. + Then the trade wind deserted them. Light and variable winds succeeded. + </p> + <p> + The master complained of the chronometers, and the captain thought it his + duty to verify or correct them; and so shaped his course for the island of + Tristan d'Acunha, then lying a little way out of his course. I ought, + perhaps, to explain to the general reader that the exact position of this + island being long ago established and recorded, it was an infallible guide + to go by in verifying a ship's chronometers. + </p> + <p> + Next day the glass fell all day, and the captain said he should + double-reef topsails at nightfall, for something was brewing. + </p> + <p> + The weather, however, was fine, and the ship was sailing very fast, when, + about half an hour before sunset, the mast-head man hailed that there was + a bulk of timber in sight, broad on the weather-bow. + </p> + <p> + The signalman was sent up, and said it looked like a raft. + </p> + <p> + The captain, who was on deck, levelled his glass at it, and made it out a + raft, with a sort of rail to it, and the stump of a mast. + </p> + <p> + He ordered the officer of the watch to keep the ship as close to the wind + as possible. He should like to examine it if he could. + </p> + <p> + The master represented, respectfully, that it would be unadvisable to beat + to windward for that. “I have no faith in our chronometers, sir, and it is + important to make the island before dark; fogs rise here so suddenly.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, Mr. Bolt; then I suppose we must let the raft go.” + </p> + <p> + “MAN ON THE RAFT TO WINDWARD!” hailed the signalman. + </p> + <p> + This electrified the ship. The captain ran up the mizzen rigging, and + scanned the raft, now nearly abeam. + </p> + <p> + “It IS a man!” he cried, and was about to alter the ship's course when, at + that moment, the signalman hailed again,— + </p> + <p> + “IT IS A CORPSE.” + </p> + <p> + “How d'ye know?” + </p> + <p> + “By the gulls.” + </p> + <p> + Then succeeded an exciting dialogue between the captain and the master, + who, being in his department, was very firm; and went so far as to say he + would not answer for the safety of the ship, if they did not sight the + land before dark. + </p> + <p> + The captain said, “Very well,” and took a turn or two. But at last he + said, “No. Her Majesty's ship must not pass a raft with a man on it, dead + or alive.” + </p> + <p> + He then began to give the necessary orders; but before they were all out + of his mouth, a fatal interruption occurred. + </p> + <p> + Tadcaster ran into Dr. Staines's cabin, crying, “A raft with a corpse + close by!” + </p> + <p> + Staines sprang to the quarter port to see, and craning eagerly out, the + lower port chain, which had not been well secured, slipped, the port gave + way, and as his whole weight rested on it, canted him headlong into the + sea. + </p> + <p> + A smart seaman in the forechains saw the accident, and instantly roared + out, “MAN OVERBOARD!” a cry that sends a thrill through a ship's very + ribs. + </p> + <p> + Another smart fellow cut the life-buoy adrift so quickly that it struck + the water within ten yards of Staines. + </p> + <p> + The officer of the watch, without the interval of half a moment, gave the + right orders, in the voice of a stentor; + </p> + <p> + “Let go life-buoy. + </p> + <p> + “Life-boat's crew away. + </p> + <p> + “Hands shorten sail. + </p> + <p> + “Mainsel up. + </p> + <p> + “Main topsel to mast.” + </p> + <p> + These orders were executed with admirable swiftness. Meantime there was a + mighty rush of feet throughout the frigate, every hatchway was crammed + with men eager to force their way on deck. + </p> + <p> + In five seconds the middy of the watch and half her crew were in the lee + cutter, fitted with Clifford's apparatus. + </p> + <p> + “Lower away!” cried the excited officer; “the others will come down by the + pendants.” + </p> + <p> + The man stationed, sitting on the bottom boards, eased away roundly, when + suddenly there was a hitch—the boat would go no farther. + </p> + <p> + “Lower away there in the cutter! Why don't you lower?” screamed the + captain, who had come over to leeward expecting to see the boat in the + water. + </p> + <p> + “The rope has swollen, sir, and the pendants won't unreeve,” cried the + middy in agony. + </p> + <p> + “Volunteers for the weather-boat!” shouted the first lieutenant; but the + order was unnecessary, for more than the proper number were in her + already. + </p> + <p> + “Plug in—lower away.” + </p> + <p> + But mishaps never come singly. Scarcely had this boat gone a foot from the + davit, than the volunteer who was acting as coxswain, in reaching out for + something, inadvertently let go the line, which, in Kynaston's apparatus, + keeps the tackles hooked; consequently, down went the boat and crew twenty + feet, with a terrific crash; the men were struggling for their lives, and + the boat was stove. + </p> + <p> + But, meantime, more men having been sent into the lee cutter, their weight + caused the pendants to render, and the boat got afloat, and was soon + employed picking up the struggling crew. + </p> + <p> + Seeing this, Lieutenant Fitzroy collected some hands, and lowered the + life-boat gig, which was fitted with common tackles, got down into her + himself by the falls, and pulling round to windward, shouted to the + signalman for directions. + </p> + <p> + The signalman was at his post, and had fixed his eye on the man overboard, + as his duty was; but his mess-mate was in the stove boat, and he had cast + one anxious look down to see if he was saved, and, sad to relate, in that + one moment he had lost sight of Staines; the sudden darkness—there + was no twilight—confused him more, and the ship had increased her + drift. + </p> + <p> + Fitzroy, however, made a rapid calculation, and pulled to windward with + all his might. He was followed in about a minute by the other sound boat + powerfully manned, and both boats melted away into the night. + </p> + <p> + There was a long and anxious suspense, during which it became pitch dark, + and the ship burned blue lights to mark her position more plainly to the + crews that were groping the sea for that beloved passenger. + </p> + <p> + Captain Hamilton had no doubt that the fate of Staines was decided, one + way or other, long before this; but he kept quiet until he saw the plain + signs of a squall at hand. Then, as he was responsible for the safety of + boats and ship, he sent up rockets to recall them. + </p> + <p> + The cutter came alongside first. Lights were poured on her, and quavering + voices asked, “Have you got him?” + </p> + <p> + The answer was dead silence, and sorrowful, drooping heads. + </p> + <p> + Sadly and reluctantly was the order given to hoist the boat in. + </p> + <p> + Then the gig came alongside. Fitzroy seated in her, with his hands before + his face; the men gloomy and sad. + </p> + <p> + “GONE! GONE!” + </p> + <p> + Soon the ship was battling a heavy squall. + </p> + <p> + At midnight all quiet again, and hove to. Then, at the request of many, + the bell was tolled, and the ship's company mustered bareheaded, and many + a stout seaman in tears, as the last service was read for Christopher + Staines. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV. + </h2> + <p> + Rosa fell ill with grief at the hotel, and could not move for some days; + but the moment she was strong enough, she insisted on leaving Plymouth: + like all wounded things, she must drag herself home. + </p> + <p> + But what a home! How empty it struck, and she heart-sick and desolate. Now + all the familiar places wore a new aspect: the little yard, where he had + so walked and waited, became a temple to her, and she came out and sat in + it, and now first felt to the full how much he had suffered there—with + what fortitude. She crept about the house, and kissed the chair he had sat + in, and every much-used place and thing of the departed. + </p> + <p> + Her shallow nature deepened and deepened under this bereavement, of which, + she said to herself, with a shudder, she was the cause. And this is the + course of nature; there is nothing like suffering to enlighten the giddy + brain, widen the narrow mind, improve the trivial heart. + </p> + <p> + As her regrets were tender and deep, so her vows of repentance were + sincere. Oh, what a wife she would make when he came back! how thoughtful! + how prudent! how loyal! and never have a secret. She who had once said, + “What is the use of your writing? nobody will publish it,” now collected + and perused every written scrap. With simple affection she even locked up + his very waste-paper basket, full of fragments he had torn, or useless + papers he had thrown there, before he went to Plymouth. + </p> + <p> + In the drawer of his writing-table she found his diary. It was a thick + quarto: it began with their marriage, and ended with his leaving home—for + then he took another volume. This diary became her Bible; she studied it + daily, till her tears hid his lines. The entries were very miscellaneous, + very exact; it was a map of their married life. But what she studied most + was his observations on her own character, so scientific, yet so kindly; + and his scholar-like and wise reflections. The book was an unconscious + picture of a great mind she had hitherto but glanced at: now she saw it + all plain before her; saw it, understood it, adored it, mourned it. Such + women are shallow, not for want of a head upon their shoulders, but of + ATTENTION. They do not really study anything: they have been taught at + their schools the bad art of skimming; but let their hearts compel their + brains to think and think, the result is considerable. The deepest + philosopher never fathomed a character more thoroughly than this poor + child fathomed her philosopher, when she had read his journal ten or + eleven times, and bedewed it with a thousand tears. + </p> + <p> + One passage almost cut her more intelligent heart in twain:— + </p> + <p> + “This dark day I have done a thing incredible. I have spoken with brutal + harshness to the innocent creature I have sworn to protect. She had run in + debt, through inexperience, and that unhappy timidity which makes women + conceal an error till it ramifies, by concealment, into a fault; and I + must storm and rave at her, till she actually fainted away. Brute! + Ruffian! Monster! And she, how did she punish me, poor lamb? By soft and + tender words—like a lady, as she is. Oh, my sweet Rosa, I wish you + could know how you are avenged. Talk of the scourge—the cat! I would + be thankful for two dozen lashes. Ah! there is no need, I think, to punish + a man who has been cruel to a woman. Let him alone. He will punish himself + more than you can, if he is really a man.” + </p> + <p> + From the date of that entry, this self-reproach and self-torture kept + cropping up every now and then in the diary; and it appeared to have been + not entirely without its influence in sending Staines to sea, though the + main reason he gave was that his Rosa might have the comforts and luxuries + she had enjoyed before she married him. + </p> + <p> + One day, while she was crying over this diary, Uncle Philip called; but + not to comfort her, I promise you. He burst on her, irate, to take her to + task. He had returned, learned Christopher's departure, and settled the + reason in his own mind: that uxorious fool was gone to sea by a natural + reaction; his eyes were open to his wife at last, and he was sick of her + folly; so he had fled to distant climes, as who would not, that could? + </p> + <p> + “SO, ma'am,” said he, “my nephew is gone to sea, I find—all in a + hurry. Pray may I ask what he has done that for?” + </p> + <p> + It was a very simple question, yet it did not elicit a very plain answer. + She only stared at this abrupt inquisitor, and then cried, piteously, “Oh, + Uncle Philip!” and burst out sobbing. + </p> + <p> + “Why, what is the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “You WILL hate me now. He is gone to make money for ME; and I would rather + have lived on a crust. Uncle—don't hate me. I'm a poor, bereaved, + heart-broken creature, that repents.” + </p> + <p> + “Repents! heigho! why, what have you been up to now, ma'am? No great harm, + I'll be bound. Flirting a little with some FOOL—eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Flirting! Me! a married woman.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, to be sure; I forgot. Why, surely he has not deserted you.” + </p> + <p> + “My Christopher desert me! He loves me too well; far more than I deserve; + but not more than I will. Uncle Philip, I am too confused and wretched to + tell you all that has happened; but I know you love him, though you had a + tiff: uncle, he called on you, to shake hands and ask your forgiveness, + poor fellow! He was so sorry you were away. Please read his dear diary: it + will tell you all, better than his poor foolish wife can. I know it by + heart. I'll show you where you and he quarrelled about me. There, see.” + And she showed him the passage with her finger. “He never told me it was + that, or I would have come and begged your pardon on my knees. But see how + sorry he was. There, see. And now I'll show you another place, where my + Christopher speaks of your many, many acts of kindness. There, see. And + now please let me show you how he longed for reconciliation. There, see. + And it is the same through the book. And now I'll show you how grieved he + was to go without your blessing. I told him I was sure you would give him + that, and him going away. Ah, me! will he ever return? Uncle dear, don't + hate me. What shall I do, now he is gone, if you disown me? Why, you are + the only Staines left me to love.” + </p> + <p> + “Disown you, ma'am! that I'll never do. You are a good-hearted young + woman, I find. There, run and dry your eyes; and let me read Christopher's + diary all through. Then I shall see how the land lies.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa complied with his proposal; and left him alone while she bathed her + eyes, and tried to compose herself, for she was all trembling at this + sudden irruption. + </p> + <p> + When she returned to the drawing-room, he was walking about, looking grave + and thoughtful. + </p> + <p> + “It is the old story,” said he, rather gently: “a MISUNDERSTANDING. How + wise our ancestors were that first used that word to mean a quarrel! for, + look into twenty quarrels, and you shall detect a score of + mis-under-standings. Yet our American cousins must go and substitute the + un-ideaed word 'difficulty'; that is wonderful. I had no quarrel with him: + delighted to see either of you. But I had called twice on him; so I + thought he ought to get over his temper, and call on a tried friend like + me. A misunderstanding! Now, my dear, let us have no more of these + misunderstandings. You will always be welcome at my house, and I shall + often come here and look after you and your interests. What do you mean to + do, I wonder?” + </p> + <p> + “Sir, I am to go home to my father, if he will be troubled with me. I have + written to him.” + </p> + <p> + “And what is to become of the Bijou?” + </p> + <p> + “My Christie thought I should like to part with it, and the furniture—but + his own writing-desk and his chair, no, I never will, and his little + clock. Oh! oh! oh!—But I remember what you said about agents, and I + don't know what to do; for I shall be away.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, leave it to me. I'll come and live here with one servant; and I'll + soon sell it for you.” + </p> + <p> + “You, Uncle Philip!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, why not?” said he roughly. + </p> + <p> + “That will be a great trouble and discomfort to you, I'm afraid.” + </p> + <p> + “If I find it so, I'll soon drop it. I'm not the fool to put myself out + for anybody. When you are ready to go out, send me word, and I'll come + in.” + </p> + <p> + Soon after this he bustled off. He gave her a sort of hurried kiss at + parting, as if he was ashamed of it, and wanted it over as quickly as + possible. + </p> + <p> + Next day her father came, condoled with her politely, assured her there + was nothing to cry about; husbands were a sort of functionaries that + generally went to sea at some part of their career, and no harm ever came + of it. On the contrary, “Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” said this + judicious parent. + </p> + <p> + This sentiment happened to be just a little too true, and set the daughter + crying bitterly. But she fought against it. “Oh no!” said she, “I MUSTN'T. + I will not be always crying in Kent Villa.” + </p> + <p> + “Lord forbid!” + </p> + <p> + “I shall get over it in time—a little.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course you will. But as to your coming to Kent Villa, I am afraid + you would not be very comfortable there. You know I am superannuated. Only + got my pension now.” + </p> + <p> + “I know that, papa: and—why, that is one of the reasons. I have a + good income now; and I thought if we put our means together”— + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that is a very different thing. You will want a carriage, I suppose. + I have put mine down.” + </p> + <p> + “No carriage; no horse; no footman; no luxury of any kind till my Christie + comes back. I abhor dress; I abhor expense; I loathe everything I once + liked too well; I detest every folly that has parted us; and I hate myself + worst of all. Oh! oh! oh! Forgive me for crying so.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I dare say there are associations about this place that upset you. + I shall go and make ready for you, dear; and then you can come as soon as + you like.” + </p> + <p> + He bestowed a paternal kiss on her brow, and glided doucely away before + she could possibly cry again. + </p> + <p> + The very next week Rosa was at Kent Villa, with the relics of her husband + about her; his chair, his writing-table, his clock, his waste-paper + basket, a very deep and large one. She had them all in her bedroom at Kent + Villa. + </p> + <p> + Here the days glided quietly but heavily. + </p> + <p> + She derived some comfort from Uncle Philip. His rough, friendly way was a + tonic, and braced her. He called several times about the Bijou. Told her + he had put up enormous boards all over the house, and puffed it finely. “I + have had a hundred agents at me,” said he; “and the next thing, I hope, + will be one customer; that is about the proportion.” At last he wrote her + he had hooked a victim, and sold the lease and furniture for nine hundred + guineas. Staines had assigned the lease to Rosa, so she had full powers; + and Philip invested the money, and two hundred more she gave him, in a + little mortgage at six per cent. + </p> + <p> + Now came the letter from Madeira. It gave her new life. Christopher was + well, contented, hopeful. His example should animate her. She would + bravely bear the present, and share his hopes of the future: with these + brighter views Nature co-operated. The instincts of approaching maternity + brightened the future. She fell into gentle reveries, and saw her husband + return, and saw herself place their infant in his arms with all a wife's, + a mother's pride. + </p> + <p> + In due course came another long letter from the equator, with a full + journal, and more words of hope. Home in less than a year, with reputation + increased by this last cure; home, to part no more. + </p> + <p> + Ah! what a changed wife he should find! how frugal, how candid, how full + of appreciation, admiration, and love, of the noblest, dearest husband + that ever breathed! + </p> + <p> + Lady Cicely Treherne waited some weeks, to let kinder sentiments return. + She then called in Dear Street, but found Mrs. Staines was gone to + Gravesend. She wrote to her. + </p> + <p> + In a few days she received a reply, studiously polite and cold. + </p> + <p> + This persistent injustice mortified her at last. She said to herself, + “Does she think his departure was no loss to ME? It was to her interests, + as well as his, I sacrificed my own selfish wishes. I will write to her no + more.” + </p> + <p> + This resolution she steadily maintained. It was shaken for a moment, when + she heard, by a side wind, that Mrs. Staines was fast approaching the + great pain and peril of women. Then she wavered. But no. She prayed for + her by name in the Liturgy, but she troubled her no more. + </p> + <p> + This state of things lasted some six weeks, when she received a letter + from her cousin Tadcaster, close on the heels of his last, to which she + had replied as I have indicated. She knew his handwriting, and opened it + with a smile. + </p> + <p> + That smile soon died off her horror-stricken face. The letter ran thus:— + </p> + <p> + TRISTAN D'ACUNHA, Jan. 5. + </p> + <p> + DEAR CICELY,—A terrible thing has just happened. We signalled a + raft, with a body on it, and poor Dr. Staines leaned out of the port-hole, + and fell overboard. Three boats were let down after him; but it all went + wrong, somehow, or it was too late. They could never find him, he was + drowned; and the funeral service was read for the poor fellow. + </p> + <p> + We are all sadly cut up. Everybody loved him. It was dreadful next day at + dinner, when his chair was empty. The very sailors cried at not finding + him. + </p> + <p> + First of all, I thought I ought to write to his wife. I know where she + lives; it is called Kent Villa, Gravesend. But I was afraid; it might kill + her: and you are so good and sensible, I thought I had better write to + you, and perhaps you could break it to her by degrees, before it gets in + all the papers. + </p> + <p> + I send this from the island, by a small vessel, and paid him ten pounds to + take it. + </p> + <p> + Your affectionate cousin, + </p> + <p> + TADCASTER. + </p> + <p> + Words are powerless to describe a blow like this: the amazement, the + stupor, the reluctance to believe—the rising, swelling, surging + horror. She sat like a woman of stone, crumpling the letter. “Dead!—dead?” + </p> + <p> + For a long time this was all her mind could realize—that Christopher + Staines was dead. He who had been so full of life and thought and genius, + and worthier to live than all the world, was dead; and a million nobodies + were still alive, and he was dead. + </p> + <p> + She lay back on the sofa, and all the power left her limbs. She could not + move a hand. + </p> + <p> + But suddenly she started up; for a noble instinct told her this blow must + not fall on the wife as it had on her, and in her time of peril. + </p> + <p> + She had her bonnet on in a moment, and for the first time in her life, + darted out of the house without her maid. She flew along the streets, + scarcely feeling the ground. She got to Dear Street, and obtained Philip + Staines's address. She flew to it, and there learned he was down at Kent + Villa. Instantly she telegraphed to her maid to come down to her at + Gravesend, with things for a short visit, and wait for her at the station; + and she went down by train to Gravesend. + </p> + <p> + Hitherto she had walked on air, driven by one overpowering impulse. Now, + as she sat in the train, she thought a little of herself. What was before + her? To break to Mrs. Staines that her husband was dead. To tell her all + her misgivings were more than justified. To encounter her cold civility, + and let her know, inch by inch, it must be exchanged for curses and + tearing of hair; her husband was dead. To tell her this, and in the + telling of it, perhaps reveal that it was HER great bereavement, as well + as the wife's, for she had a deeper affection for him than she ought. + </p> + <p> + Well, she trembled like an aspen leaf, trembled like one in an ague, even + as she sat. But she persevered. + </p> + <p> + A noble woman has her courage; not exactly the same as that which leads + forlorn hopes against bastions bristling with rifles and tongued with + flames and thunderbolts; yet not inferior to it. + </p> + <p> + Tadcaster, small and dull, but noble by birth and instinct, had seen the + right thing for her to do; and she, of the same breed, and nobler far, had + seen it too; and the great soul steadily drew the recoiling heart and + quivering body to this fiery trial, this act of humanity—to do which + was terrible and hard, to shirk it, cowardly and cruel. + </p> + <p> + She reached Gravesend, and drove in a fly to Kent Villa. + </p> + <p> + The door was opened by a maid. + </p> + <p> + “Is Mrs. Staines at home?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, ma'am, she is at HOME: but—” + </p> + <p> + “Can I see her?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, no, ma'am, not at present.” + </p> + <p> + “But I must see her. I am an old friend. Please take her my card. Lady + Cicely Treherne.” + </p> + <p> + The maid hesitated, and looked confused. “Perhaps you don't know, ma'am. + Mrs. Staines, she is—the doctor have been in the house all day.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, the doctor! I believe Dr. Philip Staines is here.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, that IS the doctor, ma'am. Yes, he is here.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, pray let me see him—or no; I had better see Mr. Lusignan.” + </p> + <p> + “Master have gone out for the day, ma'am; but if you'll step in the + drawing-room, I'll tell the doctor.” + </p> + <p> + Lady Cicely waited in the drawing-room some time, heart-sick and + trembling. + </p> + <p> + At last Dr. Philip came in, with her card in his hand, looking evidently a + little cross at the interruption. “Now, madam, please tell me, as briefly + as you can, what I can do for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you Dr. Philip Staines?” + </p> + <p> + “I am, madam, at your service—for five minutes. Can't quit my + patient long, just now.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sir, thank God I have found you. Be prepared for ill news—sad + news—a terrible calamity—I can't speak. Read that, sir.” And + she handed him Tadcaster's note. + </p> + <p> + He took it, and read it. + </p> + <p> + He buried his face in his hands. “Christopher! my poor, poor boy!” he + groaned. But suddenly a terrible anxiety seized him. “Who knows of this?” + he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Only myself, sir. I came here to break it to her.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a good, kind lady, for being so thoughtful. Madam, if this gets + to my niece's ears, it will kill her, as sure as we stand here.” + </p> + <p> + “Then let us keep it from her. Command me, sir. I will do anything. I will + live here—take the letters in—the journals—anything.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no; you have done your part, and God bless you for it. You must not + stay here. Your ladyship's very presence, and your agitation, would set + the servants talking, and some idiot-fiend among them babbling—there + is nothing so terrible as a fool.” + </p> + <p> + “May I remain at the inn, sir; just one night?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes, I wish you would; and I will run over, if all is well with her—well + with her? poor unfortunate girl!” + </p> + <p> + Lady Cicely saw he wished her gone, and she went directly. + </p> + <p> + At nine o'clock that same evening, as she lay on a sofa in the best room + of the inn, attended by her maid, Dr. Philip Staines came to her. She + dismissed her maid. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Philip was too old, in other words, had lost too many friends, to be + really broken down by bereavement; but he was strangely subdued. The loud + tones were out of him, and the loud laugh, and even the keen sneer. Yet he + was the same man; but with a gentler surface; and this was not without its + pathos. + </p> + <p> + “Well, madam,” said he gravely and quietly. “It is as it always has been. + 'As is the race of leaves, so that of man.' When one falls, another comes. + Here's a little Christopher come, in place of him that is gone: a brave, + beautiful boy, ma'am; the finest but one I ever brought into the world. He + is come to take his father's place in our hearts—I see you valued + his poor father, ma'am—but he comes too late for me. At your age, + ma'am, friendships come naturally; they spring like loves in the soft + heart of youth: at seventy, the gate is not so open; the soil is more + sterile. I shall never care for another Christopher; never see another + grow to man's estate.” + </p> + <p> + “The mother, sir,” sobbed Lady Cicely; “the poor mother?” + </p> + <p> + “Like them all—poor creature: in heaven, madam; in heaven. New life! + new existence! a new character. All the pride, glory, rapture, and + amazement of maternity—thanks to her ignorance, which we must + prolong, or I would not give one straw for her life, or her son's. I shall + never leave the house till she does know it, and come when it may, I dread + the hour. She is not framed by nature to bear so deadly a shock.” + </p> + <p> + “Her father, sir. Would he not be the best person to break it to her? He + was out to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “Her father, ma'am? I shall get no help from him. He is one of those soft, + gentle creatures, that come into the world with what your canting fools + call a mission; and his mission is to take care of number one. Not + dishonestly, mind you, nor violently, nor rudely, but doucely and calmly. + The care a brute like me takes of his vitals, that care Lusignan takes of + his outer cuticle. His number one is a sensitive plant. No scenes, no + noise; nothing painful—by-the-by, the little creature that writes in + the papers, and calls calamities PAINFUL, is of Lusignan's breed. Out + to-day! of course he was out, ma'am: he knew from me his daughter would be + in peril all day, so he visited a friend. He knew his own tenderness, and + evaded paternal sensibilities: a self-defender. I count on no help from + that charming man.” + </p> + <p> + “A man! I call such creachaas weptiles!” said Lady Cicely, her ghastly + cheek coloring for a moment. + </p> + <p> + “Then you give them a false importance.” + </p> + <p> + In the course of this interview, Lady Cicely accused herself sadly of + having interfered between man and wife, and with the best intentions + brought about this cruel calamity. “Judge, then, sir,” said she, “how + grateful I am to you for undertaking this cruel task. I was her + schoolfellow, sir, and I love her dearly; but she has turned against me, + and now, oh, with what horror she will regard me!” + </p> + <p> + “Madam,” said the doctor, “there is nothing more mean and unjust than to + judge others by events that none could foresee. Your conscience is clear. + You did your best for my poor nephew: but Fate willed it otherwise. As for + my niece, she has many virtues, but justice is one you must not look for + in that quarter. Justice requires brains. It's a virtue the heart does not + deal in. You must be content with your own good conscience, and an old + man's esteem. You did all for the best; and this very day you have done a + good, kind action. God bless you for it!” + </p> + <p> + Then he left her; and next day she went sadly home, and for many a long + day the hollow world saw nothing of Cicely Treherne. + </p> + <p> + When Mr. Lusignan came home that night, Dr. Philip told him the miserable + story, and his fears. He received it, not as Philip had expected. The + bachelor had counted without his dormant paternity. He was terror-stricken—abject—fell + into a chair, and wrung his hands, and wept piteously. To keep it from his + daughter till she should be stronger, seemed to him chimerical, + impossible. However, Philip insisted it must be done; and he must make + some excuse for keeping out of her way, or his manner would rouse her + suspicions. He consented readily to that, and indeed left all to Dr. + Philip. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Philip trusted nobody; not even his own confidential servant. He + allowed no journal to come into the house without passing through his + hands, and he read them all before he would let any other soul in the + house see them. He asked Rosa to let him be her secretary and open her + letters, giving as a pretext that it would be as well she should have no + small worries or trouble just now. + </p> + <p> + “Why,” said she, “I was never so well able to bear them. It must be a + great thing to put me out now. I am so happy, and live in the future. + Well, dear uncle, you can if you like—what does it matter?—only + there must be one exception: my own Christie's letters, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” said he, wincing inwardly. + </p> + <p> + The very next day came a letter of condolence from Miss Lucas. Dr. Philip + intercepted it, and locked it up, to be shown her at a more fitting time. + </p> + <p> + But how could he hope to keep so public a thing as this from entering the + house in one of a hundred newspapers? + </p> + <p> + He went into Gravesend, and searched all the newspapers, to see what he + had to contend with. To his horror, he found it in several dailies and + weeklies, and in two illustrated papers. He sat aghast at the difficulty + and the danger. + </p> + <p> + The best thing he could think of was to buy them all, and cut out the + account. He did so, and brought all the papers, thus mutilated, into the + house, and sent them into the kitchen. He said to his old servant, “These + may amuse Mr. Lusignan's people, and I have extracted all that interests + me.” + </p> + <p> + By these means he hoped that none of the servants would go and buy more of + these same papers elsewhere. + </p> + <p> + Notwithstanding these precautions, he took the nurse apart, and said, + “Now, you are an experienced woman, and to be trusted about an excitable + patient. Mind, I object to any female servant entering Mrs. Staines's room + with gossip. Keep them outside the door for the present, please. Oh, and + nurse, if anything should happen, likely to grieve or to worry her, it + must be kept from her entirely: can I trust you?” + </p> + <p> + “You may, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall add ten guineas to your fee, if she gets through the month + without a shock or disturbance of any kind.” + </p> + <p> + She stared at him, inquiringly. Then she said,— + </p> + <p> + “You may rely on me, doctor.” + </p> + <p> + “I feel I may. Still, she alarms me. She looks quiet enough, but she is + very excitable.” + </p> + <p> + Not all these precautions gave Dr. Philip any real sense of security; + still less did they to Mr. Lusignan. He was not a tender father, in small + things, but the idea of actual danger to his only child was terrible to + him and he now passed his life in a continual tremble. + </p> + <p> + This is the less to be wondered at, when I tell you that even the stout + Philip began to lose his nerve, his appetite, his sleep, under this hourly + terror and this hourly torture. + </p> + <p> + Well did the great imagination of antiquity feign a torment, too great for + the mind long to endure, in the sword of Damocles suspended by a single + hair over his head. Here the sword hung over an innocent creature, who + smiled beneath it, fearless; but these two old men must sit and watch the + sword, and ask themselves how long before that subtle salvation shall + snap. + </p> + <p> + “Ill news travels fast,” says the proverb. “The birds of the air shall + carry the matter,” says Holy Writ; and it is so. No bolts nor bars, no + promises nor precautions, can long shut out a great calamity from the ears + it is to blast, the heart it is to wither. The very air seems full of it, + until it falls. + </p> + <p> + Rosa's child was more than a fortnight old; and she was looking more + beautiful than ever, as is often the case with a very young mother, and + Dr. Philip complimented her on her looks. “Now,” said he, “you reap the + advantage of being good, and obedient, and keeping quiet. In another ten + days or so, I may take you to the seaside for a week. I have the honor to + inform you that from about the fourth to the tenth of March there is + always a week of fine weather, which takes everybody by surprise, except + me. It does not astonish me, because I observe it is invariable. Now, what + would you say if I gave you a week at Herne Bay, to set you up + altogether?” + </p> + <p> + “As you please, dear uncle,” said Mrs. Staines, with a sweet smile. “I + shall be very happy to go, or to stay. I shall be happy everywhere, with + my darling boy, and the thought of my husband. Why, I count the days till + he shall come back to me. No, to us; to us, my pet. How dare a naughty + mammy say to 'me,' as if 'me' was half the 'portance of oo, a precious + pets!” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Philip was surprised into a sigh. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter, dear?” said Rosa, very quickly. + </p> + <p> + “The matter?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, dear, the matter. You sighed; you, the laughing philosopher.” + </p> + <p> + “Did I?” said he, to gain time. “Perhaps I remembered the uncertainty of + human life, and of all mortal hopes. The old will have their thoughts, my + dear. They have seen so much trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “But, uncle dear, he is a very healthy child.” + </p> + <p> + “Very.” + </p> + <p> + “And you told me yourself carelessness was the cause so many children + die.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true.” + </p> + <p> + She gave him a curious and rather searching look; then, leaning over her + boy, said, “Mammy's not afraid. Beautiful Pet was not born to die + directly. He will never leave his mam-ma. No, uncle, he never can. For my + life is bound in his and his dear father's. It is a triple cord: one go, + go all.” + </p> + <p> + She said this with a quiet resolution that chilled Uncle Philip. + </p> + <p> + At this moment the nurse, who had been bending so pertinaciously over some + work that her eyes were invisible, looked quickly up, cast a furtive + glance at Mrs. Staines, and finding she was employed for the moment, made + an agitated signal to Dr. Philip. All she did was to clench her two hands + and lift them half way to her face, and then cast a frightened look + towards the door; but Philip's senses were so sharpened by constant alarm + and watching, that he saw at once something serious was the matter. But as + he had asked himself what he should do in case of some sudden alarm, he + merely gave a nod of intelligence to the nurse, scarcely perceptible, then + rose quietly from his seat, and went to the window. “Snow coming, I + think,” said he. “For all that we shall have the March summer in ten days. + You mark my words.” He then went leisurely out of the room; at the door he + turned, and, with all the cunning he was master of, said, “Oh, by the by, + come to my room, nurse, when you are at leisure.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, doctor,” said the nurse, but never moved. She was too bent on hiding + the agitation she really felt. + </p> + <p> + “Had you not better go to him, nurse?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I had, madam.” + </p> + <p> + She rose with feigned indifference, and left the room. She walked + leisurely down the passage, then, casting a hasty glance behind her, for + fear Mrs. Staines should be watching her, hurried into the doctor's room. + They met at once in the middle of the room, and Mrs. Briscoe burst out, + “Sir, it is known all over the house!” + </p> + <p> + “Heaven forbid! What is known?” + </p> + <p> + “What you would give the world to keep from her. Why, sir, the moment you + cautioned me, of course I saw there was trouble. But little I thought—sir, + not a servant in the kitchen or the stable but knows that her husband—poor + thing! poor thing!—Ah! there goes the housemaid—to have a look + at her.” + </p> + <p> + “Stop her!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Briscoe had not waited for this; she rushed after the woman, and told + her Mrs. Staines was sleeping, and the room must not be entered on any + account. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, very well,” said the maid, rather sullenly. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Briscoe saw her return to the kitchen, and came back to Dr. Staines; + he was pacing the room in torments of anxiety. + </p> + <p> + “Doctor,” said she, “it is the old story: 'Servants' friends, the master's + enemies.' An old servant came here to gossip with her friend the cook (she + never could abide her while they were together, by all accounts), and told + her the whole story of his being drowned at sea.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Philip groaned, “Cursed chatterbox!” said he. “What is to be done? + Must we break it to her now? Oh, if I could only buy a few days more! The + heart to be crushed while the body is weak! It is too cruel. Advise me, + Mrs. Briscoe. You are an experienced woman, and I think you are a + kind-hearted woman.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir,” said Mrs. Briscoe, “I had the name of it, when I was younger—before + Briscoe failed, and I took to nursing; which it hardens, sir, by use, and + along of the patients themselves; for sick folk are lumps of selfishness; + we see more of them than you do, sir. But this I WILL say, 'tisn't + selfishness that lies now in that room, waiting for the blow that will + bring her to death's door, I'm sore afraid; but a sweet, gentle, + thoughtful creature, as ever supped sorrow; for I don't know how 'tis, + doctor, nor why 'tis, but an angel like that has always to sup sorrow.” + </p> + <p> + “But you do not advise me,” said the doctor, in agitation, “and something + must be done.” + </p> + <p> + “Advise you, sir; it is not for me to do that. I am sure I'm at my wits' + ends, poor thing! Well, sir, I don't see what you can do, but try and + break it to her. Better so, than let it come to her like a clap of + thunder. But I think, sir, I'd have a wet-nurse ready, before I said much: + for she is very quick—and ten to one but the first word of such a + thing turns her blood to gall. Sir, I once knew a poor woman—she was + a carpenter's wife—a-nursing her child in the afternoon—and in + runs a foolish woman, and tells her he was killed dead, off a scaffold. + 'Twas the man's sister told her. Well, sir, she was knocked stupid like, + and she sat staring, and nursing of her child, before she could take it in + rightly. The child was dead before supper-time, and the woman was not long + after. The whole family was swept away, sir, in a few hours, and I mind + the table was not cleared he had dined on, when they came to lay them out. + Well-a-day, nurses see sorrow!” + </p> + <p> + “We all see sorrow that live long, Mrs. Briscoe. I am heart-broken myself; + I am desperate. You are a good soul, and I'll tell you. When my nephew + married this poor girl, I was very angry with him; and I soon found she + was not fit to be a struggling man's wife; and then I was very angry with + her. She had spoiled a first-rate physician, I thought. But, since I knew + her better, it is all changed. She is so lovable. How I shall ever tell + her this terrible thing, God knows. All I know is, that I will not throw a + chance away. Her body SHALL be stronger, before I break her heart. Cursed + idiots, that could not save a single man, with their boats, in a calm sea! + Lord forgive me for blaming people, when I was not there to see. I say I + will give her every chance. She shall not know it till she is stronger: + no, not if I live at her door, and sleep there, and all. Good God! inspire + me with something. There is always something to be done, if one could but + see it.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Briscoe sighed and said, “Sir, I think anything is better than for + her to hear it from a servant—and they are sure to blurt it out. + Young women are such fools.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no; I see what it is,” said Dr. Philip. “I have gone all wrong from + the first. I have been acting like a woman, when I should have acted like + a man. Why, I only trusted YOU by halves. There was a fool for you. Never + trust people by halves.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, now I shall go at it like a man. I have a vile opinion of + servants; but no matter. I'll try them: they are human, I suppose. I'll + hit them between the eyes like a man. Go to the kitchen, Mrs. Briscoe, and + tell them I wish to speak to all the servants, indoors or out.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + She stopped at the door, and said, “I had better get back to her, as soon + as I have told them.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly.” + </p> + <p> + “And what shall I tell her, sir? Her first word will be to ask me what you + wanted me for. I saw that in her eye. She was curious: that is why she + sent me after you so quick.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Philip groaned. He felt he was walking among pitfalls. He rapidly + flavored some distilled water with orange-flower, then tinted it a + beautiful pink, and bottled it. “There,” said he; “I was mixing a new + medicine. Tablespoon, four times a day: had to filter it. Any lie you + like.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Briscoe went to the kitchen, and gave her message: then went to Mrs. + Staines with the mixture. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Philip went down to the kitchen, and spoke to the servants very + solemnly. He said, “My good friends, I am come to ask your help in a + matter of life and death. There is a poor young woman up-stairs; she is a + widow, and does not know it; and must not know it yet. If the blow fell + now, I think it would kill her: indeed, if she hears it all of a sudden, + at any time, that might destroy her. We are in so sore a strait that a + feather may turn the scale. So we must try all we can to gain a little + time, and then trust to God's mercy after all. Well, now, what do you say? + Will you help me keep it from her, till the tenth of March, say? and then + I will break it to her by degrees. Forget she is your mistress. Master and + servant, that is all very well at a proper time; but this is the time to + remember nothing but that we are all one flesh and blood. We lie down + together in the churchyard, and we hope to rise together where there will + be no master and servant. Think of the poor unfortunate creature as your + own flesh and blood, and tell me, will you help me try and save her, under + this terrible blow?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, doctor, that we will,” said the footman. “Only you give us our + orders, and you will see.” + </p> + <p> + “I have no right to give you orders; but I entreat you not to show her by + word or look, that calamity is upon her. Alas! it is only a reprieve you + can give her and to me. The bitter hour MUST come when I must tell her she + is a widow, and her boy an orphan. When that day comes, I will ask you all + to pray for me that I may find words. But now I ask you to give me that + ten days' reprieve. Let the poor creature recover a little strength, + before the thunderbolt of affliction falls on her head. Will you promise + me?” + </p> + <p> + They promised heartily; and more than one of the women began to cry. + </p> + <p> + “A general assent will not satisfy me,” said Dr. Philip. “I want every + man, and every woman, to give me a hand upon it; then I shall feel sure of + you.” + </p> + <p> + The men gave him their hands at once. The women wiped their hands with + their aprons, to make sure they were clean, and gave him their hands too. + The cook said, “If any one of us goes from it, this kitchen will be too + hot to hold her.” + </p> + <p> + “Nobody will go from it, cook,” said the doctor. “I'm not afraid of that; + and now since you have promised me, out of your own good hearts, I'll try + and be even with you. If she knows nothing of it by the tenth of March, + five guineas to every man and woman in this kitchen. You shall see that, + if you can be kind, we can be grateful.” + </p> + <p> + He then hurried away. He found Mr. Lusignan in the drawing-room, and told + him all this. Lusignan was fluttered, but grateful. “Ah, my good friend,” + said he, “this is a hard trial to two old men, like you and me.” + </p> + <p> + “It is,” said Philip. “It has shown me my age. I declare I am trembling; + I, whose nerves were iron. But I have a particular contempt for servants. + Mercenary wretches! I think Heaven inspired me to talk to them. After all, + who knows? perhaps we might find a way to their hearts, if we did not + eternally shock their vanity, and forget that it is, and must be, far + greater than our own. The women gave me their tears, and the men were + earnest. Not one hand lay cold in mine. As for your kitchen-maid, I'd + trust my life to that girl. What a grip she gave me! What strength! What + fidelity was in it! My hand was never GRASPED before. I think we are safe + for a few days more.” + </p> + <p> + Lusignan sighed. “What does it all come to? We are pulling the trigger + gently, that is all.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no; that is not it. Don't let us confound the matter with similes, + please. Keep them for children.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Staines left her bed; and would have left her room, but Dr. Philip + forbade it strictly. + </p> + <p> + One day, seated in her arm-chair, she said to the nurse, before Dr. + Philip, “Nurse, why do the servants look so curiously at me?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Briscoe cast a hasty glance at Dr. Philip, and then said, “I don't + know, madam. I never noticed that.” + </p> + <p> + “Uncle, why did nurse look at you before she answered such a simple + question?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. What question?” + </p> + <p> + “About the servants.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, about the servants!” said he contemptuously. + </p> + <p> + “You should not turn up your nose at them, for they are all most kind and + attentive. Only, I catch them looking at me so strangely; really—as + if they—” + </p> + <p> + “Rosa, you are taking me quite out of my depth. The looks of servant + girls! Why, of course a lady in your condition is an object of especial + interest to them. I dare say they are saying to one another, 'I wonder + when my turn will come!' A fellow-feeling makes us wondrous kind—that + is a proverb, is it not?” + </p> + <p> + “To be sure. I forgot that.” + </p> + <p> + She said no more; but seemed thoughtful, and not quite satisfied. + </p> + <p> + On this Dr. Philip begged the maids to go near her as little as possible. + “You are not aware of it,” said he, “but your looks, and your manner of + speaking, rouse her attention, and she is quicker than I thought she was, + and observes very subtly.” + </p> + <p> + This was done; and then she complained that nobody came near her. She + insisted on coming down-stairs; it was so dull. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Philip consented, if she would be content to receive no visits for a + week. + </p> + <p> + She assented to that; and now passed some hours every day in the + drawing-room. In her morning wrappers, so fresh and crisp, she looked + lovely, and increased in health and strength every day. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Philip used to look at her, and his very flesh would creep at the + thought that, ere long, he must hurl this fair creature into the dust of + affliction; must, with a word, take the ruby from her lips, the rose from + her cheeks, the sparkle from her glorious eyes—eyes that beamed on + him with sweet affection, and a mouth that never opened, but to show some + simplicity of mind, or some pretty burst of the sensitive heart. + </p> + <p> + He put off, and put off, and at last cowardice began to whisper, “Why tell + her the whole truth at all? Why not take her through stages of doubt, + alarm, and, after all, leave a grain of hope till her child gets so rooted + in her heart that”—But conscience and good sense interrupted this + temporary thought, and made him see to what a horrible life of suspense he + should condemn a human creature, and live a perpetual lie, and be always + at the edge of some pitfall or other. + </p> + <p> + One day, while he sat looking at her, with all these thoughts, and many + more, coursing through his mind, she looked up at him, and surprised him. + “Ah!” said she gravely. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter, my dear?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothing,” said she cunningly. + </p> + <p> + “Uncle, dear,” said she presently, “when do we go to Herne Bay?” + </p> + <p> + Now, Dr. Philip had given that up. He had got the servants at Kent Villa + on his side, and he felt safer here than in any strange place: so he said, + “I don't know: that all depends. There is plenty of time.” + </p> + <p> + “No, uncle,” said Rosa gravely. “I wish to leave this house. I can hardly + breathe in it.” + </p> + <p> + “What! your native air?” + </p> + <p> + “Mystery is not my native air; and this house is full of mystery. Voices + whisper at my door, and the people don't come in. The maids cast strange + looks at me, and hurry away. I scolded that pert girl Jane, and she + answered me as meek as Moses. I catch you looking at me, with love, and + something else. What is that something—? It is Pity: that is what it + is. Do you think, because I am called a simpleton, that I have no eyes, + nor ears, nor sense? What is this secret which you are all hiding from one + person, and that is me? Ah! Christopher has not written these five weeks. + Tell me the truth, for I will know it,” and she started up in wild + excitement. + </p> + <p> + Then Dr. Philip saw the hour was come. + </p> + <p> + He said, “My poor girl, you have read us right. I am anxious about + Christopher, and all the servants know it.” + </p> + <p> + “Anxious, and not tell ME; his wife; the woman whose life is bound up in + his.” + </p> + <p> + “Was it for us to retard your convalescence, and set you fretting, and + perhaps destroy your child? Rosa, my darling, think what a treasure Heaven + has sent you, to love and care for.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said she, trembling, “Heaven has been good to me; I hope Heaven + will always be as good to me. I don't deserve it; but then I tell God so. + I am very grateful, and very penitent. I never forget that, if I had been + a good wife, my husband—five weeks is a long time. Why do you + tremble so? Why are you so pale—a strong man like you? CALAMITY! + CALAMITY!” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Philip hung his head. + </p> + <p> + She looked at him, started wildly up, then sank back into her chair. So + the stricken deer leaps, then falls. Yet even now she put on a deceitful + calm, and said, “Tell me the truth. I have a right to know.” + </p> + <p> + He stammered out, “There is a report of an accident at sea.” + </p> + <p> + She kept silence. + </p> + <p> + “Of a passenger drowned—out of that ship. This, coupled with his + silence, fills our hearts with fear.” + </p> + <p> + “It is worse—you are breaking it to me—you have gone too far + to stop. One word: is he alive? Oh, say he is alive!” + </p> + <p> + Philip rang the bell hard, and said in a troubled voice, “Rosa, think of + your child.” + </p> + <p> + “Not when my husband—Is he alive or dead?” + </p> + <p> + “It is hard to say, with such a terrible report about, and no letters,” + faltered the old man, his courage failing him. + </p> + <p> + “What are you afraid of? Do you think I can't die, and go to him? Alive, + or dead?” and she stood before him, raging and quivering in every limb. + </p> + <p> + The nurse came in. + </p> + <p> + “Fetch her child,” he cried; “God have mercy on her.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, then he is dead,” said she, with stony calmness. “I drove him to sea, + and he is dead.” + </p> + <p> + The nurse rushed in, and held the child to her. + </p> + <p> + She would not look at it. + </p> + <p> + “Dead!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, our poor Christie is gone—but his child is here—the + image of him. Do not forget the mother. Have pity on his child and yours.” + </p> + <p> + “Take it out of my sight!” she screamed. “Away with it, or I shall murder + it, as I have murdered its father. My dear Christie, before all that live! + I have killed him. I shall die for him. I shall go to him.” She raved and + tore her hair. Servants rushed in. Rosa was carried to her bed, screaming + and raving, and her black hair all down on both sides, a piteous sight. + </p> + <p> + Swoon followed swoon, and that very night brain fever set in with all its + sad accompaniments; a poor bereaved creature, tossing and moaning; pale, + anxious, but resolute faces of the nurse and the kitchen-maid watching: on + one table a pail of ice, and on another the long, thick raven hair of our + poor Simpleton, lying on clean silver paper. Dr. Philip had cut it all off + with his own hand, and he was now folding it up, and crying over it; for + he thought to himself, “Perhaps in a few days more only this will be left + of her on earth.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV. + </h2> + <p> + Staines fell head-foremost into the sea with a heavy plunge. Being an + excellent swimmer, he struck out the moment he touched the water, and that + arrested his dive, and brought him up with a slant, shocked and panting, + drenched and confused. The next moment he saw, as through a fog—his + eyes being full of water—something fall from the ship. He breasted + the big waves, and swam towards it: it rose on the top of a wave, and he + saw it was a life-buoy. Encumbered with wet clothes, he seemed impotent in + the big waves; they threw him up so high, and down so low. + </p> + <p> + Almost exhausted, he got to the life-buoy, and clutched it with a fierce + grasp and a wild cry of delight. He got it over his head, and, placing his + arms round the buoyant circle, stood with his breast and head out of + water, gasping. + </p> + <p> + He now drew a long breath, and got his wet hair out of his eyes, already + smarting with salt water, and, raising himself on the buoy, looked out for + help. + </p> + <p> + He saw, to his great concern, the ship already at a distance. She seemed + to have flown, and she was still drifting fast away from him. + </p> + <p> + He saw no signs of help. His heart began to turn as cold as his drenched + body. A horrible fear crossed him. + </p> + <p> + But presently he saw the weather-boat filled, and fall into the water; and + then a wave rolled between him and the ship, and he only saw her topmast. + </p> + <p> + The next time he rose on a mighty wave he saw the boats together astern of + the vessel, but not coming his way; and the gloom was thickening, the ship + becoming indistinct, and all was doubt and horror. + </p> + <p> + A life of agony passed in a few minutes. + </p> + <p> + He rose and fell like a cork on the buoyant waves—rose and fell, and + saw nothing but the ship's lights, now terribly distant. + </p> + <p> + But at last, as he rose and fell, he caught a few fitful glimpses of a + smaller light rising and falling like himself. “A boat!” he cried, and + raising himself as high as he could, shouted, cried, implored for help. He + stretched his hands across the water. “This way! this way!” + </p> + <p> + The light kept moving, but it came no nearer. They had greatly underrated + the drift. The other boat had no light. + </p> + <p> + Minutes passed of suspense, hope, doubt, dismay, terror. Those minutes + seemed hours. + </p> + <p> + In the agony of suspense the quaking heart sent beads of sweat to the + brow, though the body was immersed. + </p> + <p> + And the gloom deepened, and the cold waves flung him up to heaven with + their giant arms, and then down again to hell: and still that light, his + only hope, was several hundred yards from him. + </p> + <p> + Only for a moment at a time could his eyeballs, straining with agony, + catch this will-o'-the-wisp, the boat's light. It groped the sea up and + down, but came no near. + </p> + <p> + When what seemed days of agony had passed, suddenly a rocket rose in the + horizon—so it seemed to him. + </p> + <p> + The lost man gave a shriek of joy; so prone are we to interpret things + hopefully. + </p> + <p> + Misery! The next time he saw that little light, that solitary spark of + hope, it was not quite so near as before. A mortal sickness fell on his + heart. The ship had recalled the boats by rocket. + </p> + <p> + He shrieked, he cried, he screamed, he raved. “Oh, Rosa! Rosa! for her + sake, men, men, do not leave me. I am here! here!” + </p> + <p> + In vain. The miserable man saw the boat's little light retire, recede, and + melt into the ship's larger light, and that light glided away. + </p> + <p> + Then, a cold, deadly stupor fell on him. Then, death's icy claw seized his + heart, and seemed to run from it to every part of him. He was a dead man. + Only a question of time. Nothing to gain by floating. + </p> + <p> + But the despairing mind could not quit the world in peace, and even here + in the cold, cruel sea, the quivering body clung to this fragment of life, + and winced at death's touch, though more merciful. + </p> + <p> + He despised this weakness; he raged at it; he could not overcome it. + </p> + <p> + Unable to live or to die, condemned to float slowly, hour by hour, down + into death's jaws. + </p> + <p> + To a long, death-like stupor succeeded frenzy. Fury seized this great and + long-suffering mind. It rose against the cruelty and injustice of his + fate. He cursed the world, whose stupidity had driven him to sea, he + cursed remorseless nature; and at last he railed on the God who made him, + and made the cruel water, that was waiting for his body. “God's justice! + God's mercy! God's power! they are all lies,” he shouted, “dreams, + chimeras, like Him the all-powerful and good, men babble of by the fire. + If there was a God more powerful than the sea, and only half as good as + men are, he would pity my poor Rosa and me, and send a hurricane to drive + those caitiffs back to the wretch they have abandoned. Nature alone is + mighty. Oh, if I could have her on my side, and only God against me! But + she is as deaf to prayer as He is: as mechanical and remorseless. I am a + bubble melting into the sea. Soul I have none; my body will soon be + nothing, nothing. So ends an honest, loving life. I always tried to love + my fellow-creatures. Curse them! curse them! Curse the earth! Curse the + sea! Curse all nature: there is no other God for me to curse.” + </p> + <p> + The moon came out. + </p> + <p> + He raised his head and staring eyeballs, and cursed her. + </p> + <p> + The wind began to whistle, and flung spray in his face. + </p> + <p> + He raised his fallen head and staring eyeballs, and cursed the wind. + </p> + <p> + While he was thus raving, he became sensible of a black object to + windward. + </p> + <p> + It looked like a rail, and a man leaning on it. + </p> + <p> + He stared, he cleared the wet hair from his eyes, and stared again. + </p> + <p> + The thing, being larger than himself and partly out of water, was drifting + to leeward faster than himself. + </p> + <p> + He stared and trembled, and at last it came nearly abreast, black, black. + </p> + <p> + He gave a loud cry, and tried to swim towards it; but encumbered with his + life-buoy, he made little progress. The thing drifted abreast of him, but + ten yards distant. + </p> + <p> + As they each rose high upon the waves, he saw it plainly. + </p> + <p> + It was the very raft that had been the innocent cause of his sad fate. + </p> + <p> + He shouted with hope, he swam, he struggled; he got near it, but not to + it; it drifted past, and he lost his chance of intercepting it. He + struggled after it. The life-buoy would not let him catch it. + </p> + <p> + Then he gave a cry of agony, rage, despair, and flung off the life-buoy, + and risked all on this one chance. + </p> + <p> + He gains a little on the raft. + </p> + <p> + He loses. + </p> + <p> + He gains: he cries, “Rosa! Rosa!” and struggles with all his soul, as well + as his body: he gains. + </p> + <p> + But when almost within reach, a wave half drowns him, and he loses. + </p> + <p> + He cries, “Rosa! Rosa!” and swims high and strong. “Rosa! Rosa! Rosa!” + </p> + <p> + He is near it. He cries, “Rosa! Rosa!” and with all the energy of love and + life flings himself almost out of the water, and catches hold of the + nearest thing on the raft. + </p> + <p> + It was the dead man's leg. + </p> + <p> + It seemed as if it would come away in his grasp. He dared not try to pull + himself up by that. But he held on by it, panting, exhausting, faint. + </p> + <p> + This faintness terrified him. “Oh,” thought he, “if I faint now, all is + over.” + </p> + <p> + Holding by that terrible and strange support, he made a grasp, and caught + hold of the woodwork at the bottom of the rail. He tried to draw himself + up. Impossible. + </p> + <p> + He was no better off than with his life-buoy. + </p> + <p> + But in situations so dreadful, men think fast; he worked gradually round + the bottom of the raft by his hands, till he got to leeward, still holding + on. There he found a solid block of wood at the edge of the raft. He + prised himself carefully up; the raft in that part then sank a little: he + got his knee upon the timber of the raft, and with a wild cry seized the + nearest upright, and threw both arms round it and clung tight. Then first + he found breath to speak. “THANK GOD!” he cried, kneeling on the timber, + and grasping the upright post—“OH, THANK GOD! THANK GOD!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI. + </h2> + <p> + “Thank God!” why, according to his theory, it should have been “Thank + Nature.” But I observe that, in such cases, even philosophers are + ungrateful to the mistress they worship. + </p> + <p> + Our philosopher not only thanked God, but being on his knees, prayed + forgiveness for his late ravings, prayed hard, with one arm curled round + the upright, lest the sea, which ever and anon rushed over the bottom of + the raft, should swallow him up in a moment. + </p> + <p> + Then he rose carefully, and wedged himself into the corner of the raft + opposite to that other figure, ominous relic of the wild voyage the + new-comer had entered upon; he put both arms over the rail, and stood + erect. + </p> + <p> + The moon was now up; but so was the breeze: fleecy clouds flew with vast + rapidity across her bright face, and it was by fitful though vivid glances + Staines examined the raft and his companion. + </p> + <p> + The raft was large, and well made of timbers tied and nailed together, and + a strong rail ran round it resting on several uprights. There were also + some blocks of a very light wood screwed to the horizontal timbers, and + these made it float high. + </p> + <p> + But what arrested and fascinated the man's gaze was his dead companion, + sole survivor, doubtless, of a horrible voyage, since the raft was not + made for one, nor by one. + </p> + <p> + It was a skeleton, or nearly, whose clothes the seabirds had torn, and + pecked every limb in all the fleshy parts; the rest of the body had dried + to dark leather on the bones. The head was little more than an eyeless + skull; but in the fitful moonlight, those huge hollow caverns seemed + gigantic lamp-like eyes, and glared at him fiendishly, appallingly. + </p> + <p> + He sickened at the sight. He tried not to look at it; but it would be + looked at, and threaten him in the moonlight, with great lack-lustre eyes. + </p> + <p> + The wind whistled, and lashed his face with spray torn off the big waves, + and the water was nearly up to his knees, and the raft tossed so wildly, + it was all he could do to hold on in his corner: in which struggle, still + those monstrous lack-lustre eyes, like lamps of death, glared at him in + the moon; all else was dark, except the fiery crests of the black + mountain-billows, tumbling and raging all around. + </p> + <p> + What a night! + </p> + <p> + But, before morning, the breeze sank, the moon set, and a sombre quiet + succeeded, with only that grim figure in outline dimly visible. Owing to + the motion still retained by the waves, it seemed to nod and rear, and be + ever preparing to rush upon him. + </p> + <p> + The sun rose glorious, on a lovely scene; the sky was a very mosaic of + colors sweet and vivid, and the tranquil, rippling sea, peach-colored to + the horizon, with lines of diamonds where the myriad ripples broke into + smiles. + </p> + <p> + Staines was asleep, exhausted. Soon the light awoke him, and he looked up. + What an incongruous picture met his eye: that heaven of color all above + and around, and right before him, like a devil stuck in mid-heaven, that + grinning corpse, whose fate foreshadowed his own. + </p> + <p> + But daylight is a great strengthener of the nerves; the figure no longer + appalled him—a man who had long learned to look with Science's calm + eye upon the dead. When the sea became like glass, and from peach-color + deepened to rose, he walked along the raft, and inspected the dead man. He + found it was a man of color, but not a black. The body was not kept in its + place, as he had supposed, merely by being jammed into the angle caused by + the rail; it was also lashed to the corner upright by a long, stout belt. + Staines concluded this had kept the body there, and its companions had + been swept away. + </p> + <p> + This was not lost on him: he removed the belt for his own use: he then + found it was not only a belt, but a receptacle; it was nearly full of + small, hard substances that felt like stones. + </p> + <p> + When he had taken it off the body, he felt a compunction. “Ought he to rob + the dead, and expose it to be swept into the sea at the first wave, like a + dead dog?” + </p> + <p> + He was about to replace the belt, when a middle course occurred to him. He + was a man who always carried certain useful little things about him, viz., + needles, thread, scissors, and string. He took a piece of string, and + easily secured this poor light skeleton to the raft. The belt he strapped + to the rail, and kept for his own need. + </p> + <p> + And now hunger gnawed him. No food was near. There was nothing but the + lovely sea and sky, mosaic with color, and that grim, ominous skeleton. + </p> + <p> + Hunger comes and goes many times before it becomes insupportable. All that + day and night, and the next day, he suffered its pangs; and then it became + torture, but the thirst maddening. + </p> + <p> + Towards night fell a gentle rain. He spread a handkerchief and caught it. + He sucked the handkerchief. + </p> + <p> + This revived him, and even allayed in some degree the pangs of hunger. + </p> + <p> + Next day was cloudless. A hot sun glared on his unprotected head, and + battered down his enfeebled frame. + </p> + <p> + He resisted as well as he could. He often dipped his head, and as often + the persistent sun, with cruel glare, made it smoke again. + </p> + <p> + Next day the same: but the strength to meet it was waning. He lay down and + thought of Rosa, and wept bitterly. He took the dead man's belt, and + lashed himself to the upright. That act, and his tears for his beloved, + were almost his last acts of perfect reason: for next day came the + delusions and the dreams that succeed when hunger ceases to torture, and + the vital powers begin to ebb. He lay and saw pleasant meadows with + meandering streams, and clusters of rich fruit that courted the hand and + melted in the mouth. + </p> + <p> + Ever and anon they vanished, and he saw grim death looking down on him + with those big cavernous eyes. + </p> + <p> + By and by, whether his body's eye saw the grim skeleton, or his mind's eye + the juicy fruits, green meadows, and pearly brooks, all was shadowy. + </p> + <p> + So, in a placid calm, beneath a blue sky, the raft drifted dead, with its + dead freight, upon the glassy purple, and he drifted, too, towards the + world unknown. + </p> + <p> + There came across the waters to that dismal raft a thing none too common, + by sea or land—a good man. + </p> + <p> + He was tall, stalwart, bronzed, and had hair like snow, before his time, + for he had known trouble. He commanded a merchant steamer, bound for + Calcutta, on the old route. + </p> + <p> + The man at the mast-head descried a floating wreck, and hailed the deck + accordingly. The captain altered his course without one moment's + hesitation, and brought up alongside, lowered a boat, and brought the + dead, and the breathing man, on board. + </p> + <p> + A young middy lifted Staines in his arms from the wreck to the boat; he + whose person I described in chapter one weighed now no more than that. + </p> + <p> + Men are not always rougher than women. Their strength and nerve enable + them now and then to be gentler than buttery-fingered angels, who drop + frail things through sensitive agitation, and break them. These rough men + saw Staines was hovering between life and death, and they handled him like + a thing the ebbing life might be shaken out of in a moment. It was pretty + to see how gingerly the sailors carried the sinking man up the ladder, and + one fetched swabs, and the others laid him down softly on them at their + captain's feet. + </p> + <p> + “Well done, men,” said he. “Poor fellow! Pray Heaven, we may not have come + too late. Now stand aloof a bit. Send the surgeon aft.” + </p> + <p> + The surgeon came, and looked, and felt the heart. He shook his head, and + called for brandy. He had Staines's head raised, and got half a spoonful + of diluted brandy down his throat. But there was an ominous gurgling. + </p> + <p> + After several such attempts at intervals, he said plainly the man's life + could not be saved by ordinary means. + </p> + <p> + “Then try extraordinary,” said the captain. “My orders are that he is to + be saved. There is life in him. You have only got to keep it there. He + MUST be saved; he SHALL be saved.” + </p> + <p> + “I should like to try Dr. Staines's remedy,” said the surgeon. + </p> + <p> + “Try it, then what is it?” + </p> + <p> + “A bath of beef-tea. Dr. Staines says he applied it to a starved child—in + the Lancet.” + </p> + <p> + “Take a hundred-weight of beef, and boil it in the coppers.” + </p> + <p> + Thus encouraged, the surgeon went to the cook, and very soon beef was + steaming on a scale and at a rate unparalleled. + </p> + <p> + Meantime, Captain Dodd had the patient taken to his own cabin, and he and + his servant administered weak brandy and water with great caution and + skill. + </p> + <p> + There was no perceptible result. But at all events there was life and + vital instinct left, or he could not have swallowed. + </p> + <p> + Thus they hovered about him for some hours, and then the bath was ready. + </p> + <p> + The captain took charge of the patient's clothes: the surgeon and a sailor + bathed him in lukewarm beef-tea, and then covered him very warm with + blankets next the skin. Guess how near a thing it seemed to them, when I + tell you they dared not rub him. + </p> + <p> + Just before sunset his pulse became perceptible. The surgeon administered + half a spoonful of egg-flip. The patient swallowed it. + </p> + <p> + By and by he sighed. + </p> + <p> + “He must not be left, day or night,” said the captain. “I don't know who + or what he is, but he is a man; and I could not bear him to die now.” + </p> + <p> + That night Captain Dodd overhauled the patient's clothes, and looked for + marks on his linen. There were none. + </p> + <p> + “Poor devil” said Captain Dodd. “He is a bachelor.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Dodd found his pocket-book, with bank-notes, two hundred pounds. + He took the numbers, made a memorandum of them, and locked the notes up. + </p> + <p> + He lighted his lamp, examined the belt, unripped it, and poured out the + contents on his table. + </p> + <p> + They were dazzling. A great many large pieces of amethyst, and some of + white topaz and rock crystal; a large number of smaller stones, + carbuncles, chrysolites, and not a few emeralds. Dodd looked at them with + pleasure, sparkling in the lamplight. + </p> + <p> + “What a lot!” said he. “I wonder what they are worth!” He sent for the + first mate, who, he knew, did a little private business in precious + stones. “Masterton,” said he, “oblige me by counting these stones with me, + and valuing them.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Masterton stared, and his mouth watered. However, he named the various + stones and valued them. He said there was one stone, a large emerald, + without a flaw, that was worth a heavy sum by itself; and the pearls, very + fine: and looking at the great number, they must be worth a thousand + pounds. + </p> + <p> + Captain Dodd then entered the whole business carefully in the ship's log: + the living man he described thus: “About five feet six in height, and + about fifty years of age.” Then he described the notes and the stones very + exactly, and made Masterton, the valuer, sign the log. + </p> + <p> + Staines took a good deal of egg-flip that night, and next day ate solid + food; but they questioned him in vain; his reason was entirely in + abeyance: he had become an eater, and nothing else. Whenever they gave him + food, he showed a sort of fawning animal gratitude. Other sentiment he had + none, nor did words enter his mind any more than a bird's. And since it is + not pleasant to dwell on the wreck of a fine understanding, I will only + say that they landed him at Cape Town, out of bodily danger, but weak, and + his mind, to all appearance, a hopeless blank. + </p> + <p> + They buried the skeleton,—read the service of the English Church + over a Malabar heathen. + </p> + <p> + Dodd took Staines to the hospital, and left twenty pounds with the + governor of it to cure him. But he deposited Staines's money and jewels + with a friendly banker, and begged that the principal cashier might see + the man, and be able to recognize him, should he apply for his own. + </p> + <p> + The cashier came and examined him, and also the ruby ring on his finger—a + parting gift from Rosa—and remarked this was a new way of doing + business. + </p> + <p> + “Why, it is the only one, sir,” said Dodd. “How can we give you his + signature? He is not in his right mind.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor never will be.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't say that, sir. Let us hope for the best, poor fellow.” + </p> + <p> + Having made these provisions, the worthy captain weighed anchor, with a + warm heart and a good conscience. Yet the image of the man he had saved + pursued him, and he resolved to look after him next time he should coal at + Cape Town, homeward bound. + </p> + <p> + Staines recovered his strength in about two months; but his mind returned + in fragments, and very slowly. For a long, long time he remembered nothing + that had preceded his great calamity. His mind started afresh, aided only + by certain fixed habits; for instance, he could read and write: but, + strange as it may appear, he had no idea who he was; and when his memory + cleared a little on that head, he thought his surname was Christie, but he + was not sure. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, the presiding physician discovered in him a certain progress + of intelligence, which gave him great hopes. In the fifth month, having + shown a marked interest in the other sick patients, coupled with a + disposition to be careful and attentive, they made him a nurse, or rather + a sub-nurse under the special orders of a responsible nurse. I really + believe it was done at first to avoid the alternative of sending him + adrift, or transferring him to the insane ward of the hospital. In this + congenial pursuit he showed such watchfulness and skill, that by and by + they found they had got a treasure. Two months after that he began to talk + about medicine, and astonished them still more. He became the puzzle of + the establishment. The doctor and surgeon would converse with him, and try + and lead him to his past life; but when it came to that, he used to put + his hands to his head with a face of great distress, and it was clear some + impassable barrier lay between his growing intelligence and the past + events of his life. Indeed, on one occasion, he said to his kind friend + the doctor, “The past!—a black wall! a black wall!” + </p> + <p> + Ten months after his admission he was promoted to be an attendant, with a + salary. + </p> + <p> + He put by every shilling of it; for he said, “A voice from the dark past + tells me money is everything in this world.” + </p> + <p> + A discussion was held by the authorities as to whether he should be + informed he had money and jewels at the bank or not. + </p> + <p> + Upon the whole, it was thought advisable to postpone this information, + lest he should throw it away; but they told him he had been picked up at + sea, and both money and jewels found on him; they were in safe hands, only + the person was away for the time. Still, he was not to look upon himself + as either friendless or moneyless. + </p> + <p> + At this communication he showed an almost childish delight, that confirmed + the doctor in his opinion he was acting prudently, and for the real + benefit of an amiable and afflicted person, not yet to be trusted with + money and jewels. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII. + </h2> + <p> + In his quality of attendant on the sick, Staines sometimes conducted a + weak but convalescent patient into the open air; and he was always pleased + to do this, for the air of the Cape carries health and vigor on its wings. + He had seen its fine recreative properties, and he divined, somehow, that + the minds of convalescents ought to be amused, and so he often begged the + doctor to let him take a convalescent abroad. Sooner than not, he would + draw the patient several miles in a Bath chair. He rather liked this; for + he was a Hercules, and had no egotism or false pride where the sick were + concerned. + </p> + <p> + Now, these open-air walks exerted a beneficial influence on his own + darkened mind. It is one thing to struggle from idea to idea; it is + another when material objects mingle with the retrospect; they seem to + supply stepping-stones in the gradual resuscitation of memory and reason. + </p> + <p> + The ships going out of port were such a steppingstone to him, and a vague + consciousness came back to him of having been in a ship. + </p> + <p> + Unfortunately, along with this reminiscence came a desire to go in one + again; and this sowed discontent in his mind, and the more that mind + enlarged, the more he began to dislike the hospital and its confinement. + The feeling grew, and bade fair to disqualify him for his humble office. + The authorities could not fail to hear of this, and they had a little + discussion about parting with him; but they hesitated to turn him adrift, + and they still doubted the propriety of trusting him with money and + jewels. + </p> + <p> + While matters were in this state a remarkable event occurred. He drew a + sick patient down to the quay one morning, and watched the business of the + port with the keenest interest. A ship at anchor was unloading, and a + great heavy boat was sticking to her side like a black leech. Presently + this boat came away, and moved sluggishly towards the shore, rather by + help of the tide than of the two men who went through the form of + propelling her with two monstrous sweeps, while a third steered her. She + contained English goods: agricultural implements, some cases, four horses, + and a buxom young woman with a thorough English face. The woman seemed a + little excited, and as she neared the landing-place, she called out in + jocund tones to a young man on the shore, “It is all right, Dick; they are + beauties,” and she patted the beasts as people do who are fond of them. + </p> + <p> + She stepped lightly ashore, and then came the slower work of landing her + imports. She bustled about, like a hen over her brood, and wasn't always + talking, but put in her word every now and then, never crossly, and always + to the point. + </p> + <p> + Staines listened to her, and examined her with a sort of puzzled look; but + she took no notice of him; her whole soul was in the cattle. + </p> + <p> + They got the things on board well enough; but the horses were frightened + at the gangway, and jibbed. Then a man was for driving them, and poked one + of them in the quarter; he snorted and reared directly. + </p> + <p> + “Man alive!” cried the young woman, “that is not the way. They are docile + enough, but frightened. Encourage 'em, and let 'em look at it. Give 'em + time. More haste less speed, with timorous cattle.” + </p> + <p> + “That is a very pleasant voice,” said poor Staines, rather more + dictatorially than became the present state of his intellect. He added + softly, “a true woman's voice;” then gloomily, “a voice of the past—the + dark, dark past.” + </p> + <p> + At this speech intruding itself upon the short sentences of business, + there was a roar of laughter, and Phoebe Falcon turned sharply round to + look at the speaker. She stared at him; she cried “Oh!” and clasped her + hands, and colored all over. “Why, sure,” said she, “I can't be mistook. + Those eyes—'tis you, doctor, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Doctor?” said Staines, with a puzzled look. “Yes; I think they called me + doctor once. I'm an attendant in the hospital now.” + </p> + <p> + “Dick!” cried Phoebe, in no little agitation. “Come here this minute.” + </p> + <p> + “What, afore I get the horses ashore?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, before you do another thing, or say another word. Come here, now.” So + he came, and she told him to take a good look at the man. “Now,” said she, + “who is that?” + </p> + <p> + “Blest if I know,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “What, not know the man who saved your own life! Oh, Dick, what are your + eyes worth?” + </p> + <p> + This discourse brought the few persons within hearing into one band of + excited starers. + </p> + <p> + Dick took a good look, and said, “I'm blest if I don't, though; it is the + doctor that cut my throat.” + </p> + <p> + This strange statement drew forth quite a shout of ejaculations. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, better breathe through a slit than not at all,” said Dick. “Saved my + life with that cut, he did, didn't he, Pheeb?” + </p> + <p> + “That he did, Dick. Dear heart, I hardly know whether I am in my senses or + not, seeing him a-looking so blank. You try him.” + </p> + <p> + Dick came forward. “Sure you remember me, sir. Dick Dale. You cut my + throat, and saved my life.” + </p> + <p> + “Cut your throat! why, that would kill you.” + </p> + <p> + “Not the way you done it. Well, sir, you ain't the man you was, that is + clear; but you was a good friend to me, and there's my hand.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Dick,” said Staines, and took his hand. “I don't remember YOU. + Perhaps you are one of the past. The past is dead wall to me—a dark + dead wall,” and he put his hands to his head with a look of distress. + </p> + <p> + Everybody there now suspected the truth, and some pointed mysteriously to + their own heads. + </p> + <p> + Phoebe whispered an inquiry to the sick person. + </p> + <p> + He said a little pettishly, “All I know is, he is the kindest attendant in + the ward, and very attentive.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, then, he is in the public hospital.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course he is.” + </p> + <p> + The invalid, with the selfishness of his class, then begged Staines to + take him out of all this bustle down to the beach. Staines complied at + once, with the utmost meekness, and said, “Good-by, old friends; forgive + me for not remembering you. It is my great affliction that the past is + gone from me—gone, gone.” And he went sadly away, drawing his sick + charge like a patient mule. + </p> + <p> + Phoebe Falcon looked after him, and began to cry. + </p> + <p> + “Nay, nay, Phoebe,” said Dick; “don't ye take on about it.” + </p> + <p> + “I wonder at you,” sobbed Phoebe. “Good people, I'm fonder of my brother + than he is of himself, it seems; for I can't take it so easy. Well, the + world is full of trouble. Let us do what we are here for. But I shall pray + for the poor soul every night, that his mind may be given back to him.” + </p> + <p> + So then she bustled, and gave herself to getting the cattle on shore, and + the things put on board her wagon. + </p> + <p> + But when this was done, she said to her brother, “Dick, I did not think + anything on earth could take my heart off the cattle and the things we + have got from home; but I can't leave this without going to the hospital + about our poor dear doctor: and it is late for making a start, any way—and + you mustn't forget the newspapers for Reginald—he is so fond of them—and + you must contrive to have one sent out regular after this, and I'll go to + the hospital.” + </p> + <p> + She went, and saw the head doctor, and told him he had got an attendant + there she had known in England in a very different condition, and she had + come to see if there was anything she could do for him—for she felt + very grateful to him, and grieved to see him so. + </p> + <p> + The doctor was pleased and surprised, and put several questions. + </p> + <p> + Then she gave him a clear statement of what he had done for Dick in + England. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said the doctor, “I believe it is the same man; for, now you tell + me this—yes, one of the nurses told me he knew more about medicine + than she did. His name, if you please.” + </p> + <p> + “His name, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, his name. Of course you know his name. Is it Christie?” + </p> + <p> + “Doctor,” said Phoebe, blushing, “I don't know what you will think of me, + but I don't know his name. Laws forgive me, I never had the sense to ask + it.” + </p> + <p> + A shade of suspicion crossed the doctor's face. + </p> + <p> + Phoebe saw it, and colored to the temples. “Oh, sir,” she cried piteously, + “don't go for to think I have told you a lie! why should I? and indeed I + am not of that sort, nor Dick neither. Sir, I'll bring him to you, and he + will say the same. Well, we were all in terror and confusion, and I met + him accidentally in the street. He was only a customer till then, and paid + ready money, so that is how I never knew his name, but if I hadn't been + the greatest fool in England, I should have asked his wife.” + </p> + <p> + “What! he has a wife?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, sir, the loveliest lady you ever clapped eyes on, and he is almost as + handsome; has eyes in his head like jewels; 'twas by them I knew him on + the quay, and I think he knew my voice again, said as good as he had heard + it in past times.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he? Then we have got him,” cried the doctor energetically. + </p> + <p> + “La, Sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; if he knows your voice, you will be able in time to lead his memory + back; at least, I think so. Do you live in Cape Town?” + </p> + <p> + “Dear heart, no. I live at my own farm, a hundred and eighty miles from + this.” + </p> + <p> + “What a pity!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Well—hum!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, if you think I could do the poor doctor good by having him with me, + you have only to say the word, and out he goes with Dick and me to-morrow + morning. We should have started for home to-night, but for this.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you in earnest, madam?” said the doctor, opening his eyes. “Would you + really encumber yourself with a person whose reason is in suspense, and + may never return?” + </p> + <p> + “But that is not his fault, sir. Why, if a dog had saved my brother's + life, I'd take it home, and keep it all its days; and this is a man, and a + worthy man. Oh, sir, when I saw him brought down so, and his beautiful + eyes clouded like, my very bosom yearned over the poor soul; a kind act + done in dear old England, who can see the man in trouble here, and not + repay it—ay, if it cost one's blood. But indeed he is strong and + healthy, and hands are always scarce our way, and the odds are he will + earn his meat one way or t'other; and if he doesn't, why, all the better + for me; I shall have the pleasure of serving him for nought that once + served me for neither money nor reward.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a good woman,” said the doctor warmly. + </p> + <p> + “There's better, and there's worse,” said Phoebe quietly, and even a + little coldly. + </p> + <p> + “More of the latter,” said the doctor dryly. “Well, Mrs.—?” + </p> + <p> + “Falcon, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “We shall hand him over to your care: but first—just for form—if + you are a married woman, we should like to see Dick here: he is your + husband, I presume.” + </p> + <p> + Ploebe laughed merrily. “Dick is my brother; and he can't be spared to + come here. Dick! he'd say black was white if I told him to.” + </p> + <p> + “Then let us see your husband about it—just for form.” + </p> + <p> + “My husband is at the farm. I could not venture so far away, and not leave + him in charge.” If she had said, “I will not bring him into temptation,” + that would have been nearer the truth. “Let that fly stick on the wall, + sir. What I do, my husband will approve.” + </p> + <p> + “I see how it is. You rule the roost.” + </p> + <p> + Phoebe did not reply point-blank to that; she merely said, “All my + chickens are happy, great and small,” and an expression of lofty, womanly, + innocent pride illuminated her face and made it superb for a moment. + </p> + <p> + In short, it was settled that Staines should accompany her next morning to + Dale's Kloof Farm, if he chose. On inquiry, it appeared that he had just + returned to the hospital with his patient. He was sent for, and Phoebe + asked him sweetly if he would go with her to her house, one hundred and + eighty miles away, and she would be kind to him. + </p> + <p> + “On the water?” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, by land; but 'tis a fine country, and you will see beautiful deer + and things running across the plains, and”— + </p> + <p> + “Shall I find the past again, the past again?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, poor soul, that we shall, God willing. You and I, we will hunt it + together.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at her, and gave her his hand. “I will go with you. Your face + belongs to the past, so does your voice.” + </p> + <p> + He then inquired, rather abruptly, had she any children. She smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, that I have, the loveliest little boy you ever saw. When you are as + you used to be, you will be his doctor, won't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I will nurse him, and you will help me find the past.” + </p> + <p> + Phoebe then begged Staines to be ready to start at six in the morning. She + and Dick would take him up on their way. + </p> + <p> + While she was talking to him the doctor slipped out, and to tell the truth + he went to consult with another authority, whether he should take this + opportunity of telling Staines that he had money and jewels at the bank: + he himself was half inclined to do so; but the other, who had not seen + Phoebe's face, advised him to do nothing of the kind. “They are always + short of money, these colonial farmers,” said he; “she would get every + shilling out of him.” + </p> + <p> + “Most would; but this is such an honest face.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, but she is a mother, you say.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what mother could be just to a lunatic, with her own sweet angel + babes to provide for?” + </p> + <p> + “That is true,” said Dr. ——. “Maternal love is apt to modify + the conscience.” + </p> + <p> + “What I would do,—I would take her address, and make her promise to + write if he gets well, and if he does get well then write to HIM, and tell + him all about it.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. —— acted on this shrewd advice, and ordered a bundle to be + made up for the traveller out of the hospital stores: it contained a nice + light summer suit and two changes of linen. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII. + </h2> + <p> + Next morning, Staines and Dick Dale walked through the streets of Cape + Town side by side. Dick felt the uneasiness of a sane man, not familiar + with the mentally afflicted, who suddenly finds himself alone with one. + Insanity turns men oftenest into sheep and hares; but it does now and then + make them wolves and tigers; and that has saddled the insane in general + with a character for ferocity. Young Dale, then, cast many a suspicious + glance at his comrade, as he took him along. These glances were + reassuring: Christopher's face had no longer the mobility, the expressive + changes, that mark the superior mind; his countenance was monotonous: but + the one expression was engaging; there was a sweet, patient, lamb-like + look: the glorious eye a little troubled and perplexed, but wonderfully + mild. Dick Dale looked and looked, and his uneasiness vanished. And the + more he looked, the more did a certain wonder creep over him, and make him + scarce believe the thing he knew; viz., that a learned doctor had saved + him from the jaws of death by rare knowledge, sagacity, courage, and skill + combined: and that mighty man of wisdom was brought down to this lamb, and + would go north, south, east, or west, with sweet and perfect submission, + even as he, Dick Dale, should appoint. With these reflections honest Dick + felt his eyes get a little misty, and, to use those words of Scripture, + which nothing can surpass or equal, his bowels yearned over the man. + </p> + <p> + As for Christopher, he looked straight forward, and said not a word till + they cleared the town; but when he saw the vast flowery vale, and the + far-off violet hills, like Scotland glorified, he turned to Dick with an + ineffable expression of sweetness and good fellowship, and said, “Oh, + beautiful! We'll hunt the past together.” + </p> + <p> + “We—will—SO,” said Dick, with a sturdy and indeed almost a + stern resolution. + </p> + <p> + Now, this he said, not that he cared for the past, nor intended to waste + the present by going upon its predecessor's trail; but he had come to a + resolution—full three minutes ago—to humor his companion to + the top of his bent, and say “Yes” with hypocritical vigor to everything + not directly and immediately destructive to him and his. + </p> + <p> + The next moment they turned a corner and came upon the rest of their + party, hitherto hidden by the apricot hedge and a turning in the road. A + blue-black Kafir, with two yellow Hottentot drivers, man and boy, was + harnessing, in the most primitive mode, four horses on to the six oxen + attached to the wagon; and the horses were flattening their ears, and + otherwise resenting the incongruity. Meantime a fourth figure, a colossal + young Kafir woman, looked on superior with folded arms, like a sable Juno + looking down with that absolute composure upon the struggles of man and + other animals, which Lucretius and his master Epicurus assigned to the + Divine nature. Without jesting, the grandeur, majesty, and repose of this + figure were unsurpassable in nature, and such as have vanished from + sculpture two thousand years and more. + </p> + <p> + Dick Dale joined the group immediately, and soon arranged the matter. + Meantime, Phoebe descended from the wagon, and welcomed Christopher very + kindly, and asked him if he would like to sit beside her, or to walk. + </p> + <p> + He glanced into the wagon; it was covered and curtained, and dark as a + cupboard. “I think,” said he, timidly, “I shall see more of the past out + here.” + </p> + <p> + “So you will, poor soul,” said Phoebe kindly, “and better for your health: + but you must not go far from the wagon, for I'm a fidget; and I have got + the care of you now, you know, for want of a better. Come, Ucatella; you + must ride with me, and help me sort the things; they are all + higgledy-piggledy.” So those two got into the wagon through the back + curtains. Then the Kafir driver flourished his kambok, or long whip, in + the air, and made it crack like a pistol, and the horses reared, and the + oxen started and slowly bored in between them, for they whinnied, and + kicked, and spread out like a fan all over the road; but a flick or two + from the terrible kambok soon sent them bleeding and trembling and rubbing + shoulders, and the oxen, mildly but persistently goring their + recalcitrating haunches, the intelligent animals went ahead, and revenged + themselves by breaking the harness. But that goes for little in Cape + travel. + </p> + <p> + The body of the wagon was long and low and very stout. The tilt strong and + tight-made. The roof inside, and most of the sides, lined with green + baize. Curtains of the same to the little window and the back. There was a + sort of hold literally built full of purchases; a small fireproof safe; + huge blocks of salt; saws, axes, pickaxes, adzes, flails, tools + innumerable, bales of wool and linen stuff, hams, and two hundred empty + sacks strewn over all. In large pigeon-holes fixed to the sides were light + goods, groceries, collars, glaring cotton handkerchiefs for Phoebe's + aboriginal domestics, since not every year did she go to Cape Town, a + twenty days' journey by wagon: things dangled from the very roof; but no + hard goods there, if you please, to batter one's head in a spill. Outside + were latticed grooves with tent, tent-poles, and rifles. Great pieces of + cork, and bags of hay and corn, hung dangling from mighty hooks—the + latter to feed the cattle, should they be compelled to camp out on some + sterile spot on the Veldt, and methinks to act as buffers, should the + whole concern roll down a nullah or little precipice, no very uncommon + incident in the blessed region they must pass to reach Dale's Kloof. + </p> + <p> + Harness mended; fresh start. The Hottentots and Kafir vociferated and + yelled, and made the unearthly row of a dozen wild beasts wrangling: the + horses drew the bullocks, they the wagon; it crawled and creaked, and its + appendages wobbled finely. + </p> + <p> + Slowly they creaked and wobbled past apricot hedges and detached houses + and huts, and got into an open country without a tree, but here and there + a stunted camel-thorn. The soil was arid, and grew little food for man or + beast; yet, by a singular freak of nature, it put forth abundantly things + that here at home we find it harder to raise than homely grass and oats; + the ground was thickly clad with flowers of delightful hues; pyramids of + snow or rose-color bordered the track; yellow and crimson stars bejewelled + the ground, and a thousand bulbous plants burst into all imaginable + colors, and spread a rainbow carpet to the foot of the violet hills; and + all this glowed, and gleamed, and glittered in a sun shining with + incredible brightness and purity of light, but, somehow, without giving a + headache or making the air sultry. + </p> + <p> + Christopher fell to gathering flowers, and interrogating the past by means + of them; for he had studied botany: the past gave him back some pitiably + vague ideas. He sighed. “Never mind,” said he to Dick, and tapped his + forehead: “it is here: it is only locked up.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Dick; “nothing is lost when you know where 'tis.” + </p> + <p> + “This is a beautiful country,” suggested Christopher. “It is all flowers. + It is like the garden of—the garden of—locked up.” + </p> + <p> + “It is de—light—ful,” replied the self-compelled optimist + sturdily. But here nature gave way; he was obliged to relieve his + agricultural bile by getting into the cart and complaining to his sister. + “'Twill take us all our time to cure him. He have been bepraising this + here soil, which it is only fit to clean the women's kettles. 'Twouldn't + feed three larks to an acre, I know; no, NOR HALF SO MANY.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor soul! mayhap the flowers have took his eye. Sit here a bit, Dick. I + want to talk to you about a many things.” + </p> + <p> + While these two were conversing, Ucatella, who was very fond of Phoebe, + but abhorred wagons, stepped out and stalked by the side, like an ostrich, + a camelopard, or a Taglioni; nor did the effort with which she subdued her + stride to the pace of the procession appear: it was the poetry of walking. + Christopher admired it a moment; but the noble expanse tempted him, and he + strode forth like a giant, his lungs inflating in the glorious air, and + soon left the wagon far behind. + </p> + <p> + The consequence was that when they came to a halt, and Dick and Phoebe got + out to release and water the cattle, there was Christopher's figure + retiring into space. + </p> + <p> + “Hanc rem aegre tulit Phoebe,” as my old friend Livy would say. “Oh dear! + oh dear! if he strays so far from us, he will be eaten up at nightfall by + jackals, or lions, or something. One of you must go after him.” + </p> + <p> + “Me go, missy,” said Ucatella zealously, pleased with an excuse for + stretching her magnificent limbs. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, but mayhap he will not come back with YOU: will he, Dick?” + </p> + <p> + “That he will, like a lamb.” Dick wanted to look after the cattle. + </p> + <p> + “Yuke, my girl,” said Phoebe, “listen. He has been a good friend of ours + in trouble; and now he is not quite right HERE. So be very kind to him, + but be sure and bring him back, or keep him till we come.” + </p> + <p> + “Me bring him back alive, certain sure,” said Ucatella, smiling from ear + to ear. She started with a sudden glide, like a boat taking the water, and + appeared almost to saunter away, so easy was the motion; but when you + looked at the ground she was covering, the stride, or glide, or whatever + it was, was amazing. + </p> + <p> + “She seem'd in walking to devour the way.” + </p> + <p> + Christopher walked fast, but nothing like this; and as he stopped at times + to botanize and gaze at the violet hills, and interrogate the past, she + came up with him about five miles from the halting-place. + </p> + <p> + She laid her hand quietly on his shoulder, and said, with a broad genial + smile, and a musical chuckle, “Ucatella come for you. Missy want to speak + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! very well;” and he turned back with her, directly; but she took him + by the hand to make sure; and they marched back peaceably, in silence, and + hand in hand. But he looked and looked at her, and at last he stopped dead + short, and said, a little arrogantly, “Come, I know YOU. YOU are not + locked up;” and he inspected her point-blank. She stood like an antique + statue, and faced the examination. “You are 'the noble savage,'” said he, + having concluded his inspection. + </p> + <p> + “Nay,” said she. “I be the housemaid.” + </p> + <p> + “The housemaid?” + </p> + <p> + “Iss, the housemaid, Ucatella. So come on.” And she drew him along, sore + perplexed. + </p> + <p> + They met the cavalcade a mile from the halting-place, and Phoebe + apologized a little to Christopher. “I hope you'll excuse me, sir,” said + she, “but I am just for all the world like a hen with her chickens; if but + one strays, I'm all in a flutter till I get him back.” + </p> + <p> + “Madam,” said Christopher, “I am very unhappy at the way things are locked + up. Please tell me truly, is this 'the housemaid,' or 'the noble savage'?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, she is both, if you go to that, and the best creature ever + breathed.” + </p> + <p> + “Then she IS 'the noble savage'?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, so they call her, because she is black.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, thank Heaven,” said Christopher, “the past is not all locked up.” + </p> + <p> + That afternoon they stopped at an inn. But Dick slept in the cart. At + three in the morning they took the road again, and creaked along + supernaturally loud under a purple firmament studded with huge stars, all + bright as moons, that lit the way quite clear, and showed black things + innumerable flitting to and fro; these made Phoebe shudder, but were no + doubt harmless; still Dick carried his double rifle, and a revolver in his + belt. + </p> + <p> + They made a fine march in the cool, until some slight mists gathered, and + then they halted and breakfasted near a silvery kloof, and watered the + cattle. While thus employed, suddenly a golden tinge seemed to fall like a + lash on the vapors of night; they scudded away directly, as jackals before + the lion; the stars paled, and with one incredible bound, the mighty sun + leaped into the horizon, and rose into the sky. In a moment all the lesser + lamps of heaven were out, though late so glorious, and there was nothing + but one vast vaulted turquoise, and a great flaming topaz mounting with + eternal ardor to its centre. + </p> + <p> + This did not escape Christopher. “What is this?” said he. “No twilight. + The tropics!” He managed to dig that word out of the past in a moment. + </p> + <p> + At ten o'clock the sun was so hot that they halted, and let the oxen loose + till sun-down. Then they began to climb the mountains. + </p> + <p> + The way was steep and rugged; indeed, so rough in places, that the cattle + had to jump over the holes, and as the wagon could not jump so cleverly, + it jolted appallingly, and many a scream issued forth. + </p> + <p> + Near the summit, when the poor beasts were dead beat, they got into clouds + and storms, and the wind rushed howling at them through the narrow pass + with such fury it flattened the horses' ears, and bade fair to sweep the + whole cavalcade to the plains below. + </p> + <p> + Christopher and Dick walked close behind, under the lee of the wagon. + Christopher said in Dick's ear, “D'ye hear that? Time to reef topsails, + captain.” + </p> + <p> + “It is time to do SOMETHING,” said Dick. He took advantage of a jutting + rock, drew the wagon half behind it and across the road, propped the + wheels with stones, and they all huddled to leeward, man and beast + indiscriminately. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said Christopher, approvingly; “we are lying to: a very—proper—course.” + </p> + <p> + They huddled and shivered three hours, and then the sun leaped into the + sky, and lo! a transformation scene. The cold clouds were first rosy + fleeces, then golden ones, then gold-dust, then gone; the rain was big + diamonds, then crystal sparks, then gone; the rocks and the bushes + sparkled with gem-like drops, and shone and smiled. + </p> + <p> + The shivering party bustled, and toasted the potent luminary in hot + coffee; for Phoebe's wagon had a stove and chimney; and then they yoked + their miscellaneous cattle again, and breasted the hill. With many a jump, + and bump, and jolt, and scream from inside, they reached the summit, and + looked down on a vast slope, flowering but arid, a region of gaudy + sterility. + </p> + <p> + The descent was more tremendous than the ascent, and Phoebe got out, and + told Christopher she would liever cross the ocean twice than this dreadful + mountain once. + </p> + <p> + The Hottentot with the reins was now bent like a bow all the time, keeping + the cattle from flowing diverse over precipices, and the Kafir with his + kambok was here, and there, and everywhere, his whip flicking like a + lancet, and cracking like a horse-pistol, and the pair vied like Apollo + and Pan, not which could sing sweetest, but swear loudest. Having the + lofty hill for some hours between them and the sun, they bumped, and + jolted, and stuck in mud-holes, and flogged and swore the cattle out of + them again, till at last they got to the bottom, where ran a turbid kloof + or stream. It was fordable, but the recent rains had licked away the + slope; so the existing bank was two feet above the stream. Little recked + the demon drivers or the parched cattle; in they plunged promiscuously, + with a flop like thunder, followed by an awful splashing. The wagon stuck + fast in the mud, the horses tied themselves in a knot, and rolled about in + the stream, and the oxen drank imperturbably. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the salt! the salt!” screamed Phoebe, and the rocks re-echoed her + lamentations. + </p> + <p> + The wagon was inextricable, the cattle done up, the savages lazy, so they + stayed for several hours. Christopher botanized, but not alone. Phoebe + drew Ucatella apart, and explained to her that when a man is a little + wrong in the head, it makes a child of him: “So,” said she, “you must + think he is your child, and never let him out of your sight.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said the sable Juno, who spoke English ridiculously well, and + rapped out idioms; especially “Come on,” and “All right.” + </p> + <p> + About dusk, what the drivers had foreseen, though they had not the sense + to explain it, took place; the kloof dwindled to a mere gutter, and the + wagon stuck high and dry. Phoebe waved her handkerchief to Ucatella. + Ucatella, who had dogged Christopher about four hours without a word, now + took his hand, and said, “My child, missy wants us; come on;” and so led + him unresistingly. + </p> + <p> + The drivers, flogging like devils, cursing like troopers, and yelling like + hyenas gone mad, tried to get the wagon off; but it was fast as a rock. + Then Dick and the Hottentot put their shoulders to one wheel, and tried to + prise it up, while the Kafir ENCOURAGED the cattle with his thong. + Observing this, Christopher went in, with his sable custodian at his + heels, and heaved at the other embedded wheel. The wagon was lifted + directly, so that the cattle tugged it out, and they got clear. On + examination, the salt had just escaped. + </p> + <p> + Says Ucatella to Phoebe, a little ostentatiously, “My child is strong and + useful; make little missy a good slave.” + </p> + <p> + “A slave! Heaven forbid!” said Phoebe. “He'll be a father to us all, once + he gets his head back; and I do think it is coming—but very slow.” + </p> + <p> + The next three days offered the ordinary incidents of African travel, but + nothing that operated much on Christopher's mind, which is the true point + of this narrative; and as there are many admirable books of African + travel, it is the more proper I should confine myself to what may be + called the relevant incidents of the journey. + </p> + <p> + On the sixth day from Cape Town, they came up with a large wagon stuck in + a mud-hole. There was quite a party of Boers, Hottentots, Kafirs, round + it, armed with whips, shamboks, and oaths, lashing and cursing without + intermission, or any good effect; and there were the wretched beasts + straining in vain at their choking yokes, moaning with anguish, trembling + with terror, their poor mild eyes dilated with agony and fear, and often, + when the blows of the cruel shamboks cut open their bleeding flesh, they + bellowed to Heaven their miserable and vain protest against this devil's + work. + </p> + <p> + Then the past opened its stores, and lent Christopher a word. + </p> + <p> + “BARBARIANS!” he roared, and seized a gigantic Kafir by the throat, just + as his shambok descended for the hundredth time. There was a mighty + struggle, as of two Titans; dust flew round the combatants in a cloud; a + whirling of big bodies, and down they both went with an awful thud, the + Saxon uppermost, by Nature's law. + </p> + <p> + The Kafir's companions, amazed at first, began to roll their eyes and draw + a knife or two; but Dick ran forward, and said, “Don't hurt him: he is + wrong HERE.” + </p> + <p> + This representation pacified them more readily than one might have + expected. Dick added hastily, “We'll get you out of the hole OUR way, and + cry quits.” + </p> + <p> + The proposal was favorably received, and the next minute Christopher and + Ucatella at one wheel, and Dick and the Hottentot at the other, with no + other help than two pointed iron bars bought for their shepherds, had + effected what sixteen oxen could not. To do this Dick Dale had bared his + arm to the shoulder; it was a stalwart limb, like his sister's, and he now + held it out all swollen and corded, and slapped it with his other hand. + “Look'ee here, you chaps,” said he: “the worst use a man can put that + there to is to go cutting out a poor beast's heart for not doing more than + he can. You are good fellows, you Kafirs; but I think you have sworn never + to put your shoulder to a wheel. But, bless your poor silly hearts, a + little strength put on at the right place is better than a deal at the + wrong.” + </p> + <p> + “You hear that, you Kafir chaps?” inquired Ucatella, a little arrogantly—for + a Kafir. + </p> + <p> + The Kafirs, who had stood quite silent to imbibe these remarks, bowed + their heads with all the dignity and politeness of Roman senators, Spanish + grandees, etc.; and one of the party replied gravely, “The words of the + white man are always wise.” + </p> + <p> + “And his arm blanked* strong,” said Christopher's late opponent, from + whose mind, however, all resentment had vanished. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + * I take this very useful expression from a delightful + volume by Mr. Boyle. +</pre> + <p> + Thus spake the Kafirs; yet to this day never hath a man of all their tribe + put his shoulder to a wheel, so strong is custom in South Africa; probably + in all Africa; since I remember St. Augustin found it stronger than he + liked, at Carthage. + </p> + <p> + Ucatella went to Phoebe, and said, “Missy, my child is good and brave.” + </p> + <p> + “Bother you and your child!” said poor Phoebe. “To think of his flying at + a giant like that, and you letting of him. I'm all of a tremble from head + to foot:” and Phoebe relieved herself with a cry. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, missy!” said Ucatella. + </p> + <p> + “There, never mind me. Do go and look after your child, and keep him out + of more mischief. I wish we were safe at Dale's Kloof, I do.” + </p> + <p> + Ucatella complied, and went botanizing with Dr. Staines; but that + gentleman, in the course of his scientific researches into camomile + flowers and blasted heath, which were all that lovely region afforded, + suddenly succumbed and stretched out his limbs, and said, sleepily, + “Good-night—U—cat—” and was off into the land of Nod. + </p> + <p> + The wagon, which, by the way, had passed the larger but slower vehicle, + found him fast asleep, and Ucatella standing by him as ordered, motionless + and grand. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear! what now?” said Phoebe: but being a sensible woman, though in + the hen and chickens line, she said, “'Tis the fighting and the + excitement. 'Twill do him more good than harm, I think:” and she had him + bestowed in the wagon, and never disturbed him night nor day. He slept + thirty-six hours at a stretch; and when he awoke, she noticed a slight + change in his eye. He looked at her with an interest he had not shown + before, and said, “Madam, I know you.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank God for that,” said Phoebe. + </p> + <p> + “You kept a little shop, in the other world.” + </p> + <p> + Phoebe opened her eyes with some little alarm. + </p> + <p> + “You understand—the world that is locked up—for the present.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir, so I did; and sold you milk and butter. Don't you mind?” + </p> + <p> + “No—the milk and butter—they are locked up.” + </p> + <p> + The country became wilder, the signs of life miserably sparse; about every + twenty miles the farmhouse or hut of a degenerate Boer, whose children and + slaves pigged together, and all ran jostling, and the mistress screamed in + her shrill Dutch, and the Hottentots all chirped together, and confusion + reigned for want of method: often they went miles, and saw nothing but a + hut or two, with a nude Hottentot eating flesh, burnt a little, but not + cooked, at the door; and the kloofs became deeper and more turbid, and + Phoebe was in an agony about her salt, and Christopher advised her to + break it in big lumps, and hang it all about the wagon in sacks; and she + did, and Ucatella said profoundly, “My child is wise;” and they began to + draw near home, and Phoebe to fidget; and she said to Christopher, “Oh, + dear! I hope they are all alive and well: once you leave home, you don't + know what may have happened by then you come back. One comfort, I've got + Sophy: she is very dependable, and no beauty, thank my stars.” + </p> + <p> + That night, the last they had to travel, was cloudy, for a wonder, and + they groped with lanterns. + </p> + <p> + Ucatella and her child brought up the rear. Presently there was a light + pattering behind them. The swift-eared Ucatella clutched Christopher's + arm, and turning round, pointed back, with eyeballs white and rolling. + There were full a dozen animals following them, whose bodies seemed + colorless as shadows, but their eyes little balls of flaming lime-light. + </p> + <p> + “GUN!” said Christie, and gave the Kafir's arm a pinch. She flew to the + caravan; he walked backwards, facing the foe. The wagon was halted, and + Dick ran back with two loaded rifles. In his haste he gave one to + Christopher, and repented at leisure; but Christopher took it, and handled + it like an experienced person, and said, with delight, “VOLUNTEER.” But + with this the cautious animals had vanished like bubbles. But Dick told + Christopher they would be sure to come back; he ordered Ucatella into the + wagon, and told her to warn Phoebe not to be frightened if guns should be + fired. This soothing message brought Phoebe's white face out between the + curtains, and she implored them to get into the wagon, and not tempt + Providence. + </p> + <p> + “Not till I have got thee a kaross of jackal's fur.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll never wear it!” said Phoebe violently, to divert him from his + purpose. + </p> + <p> + “Time will show,” said Dick dryly. “These varmint are on and off like + shadows, and as cunning as Old Nick. We two will walk on quite unconcerned + like, and as soon as ever the varmint are at our heels you give us the + office; and we'll pepper their fur—won't we, doctor?” + </p> + <p> + “We—will—pepper—their fur,” said Christopher, repeating + what to him was a lesson in the ancient and venerable English tongue. + </p> + <p> + So they walked on expectant; and by and by the four-footed shadows with + large lime-light eyes came stealing on; and Phoebe shrieked, and they + vanished before the men could draw a bead on them. + </p> + <p> + “Thou's no use at this work, Pheeb,” said Dick. “Shut thy eyes, and let us + have Yuke.” + </p> + <p> + “Iss, master: here I be.” + </p> + <p> + “You can bleat like a lamb; for I've heard ye.” + </p> + <p> + “Iss, master. I bleats beautiful;” and she showed snowy teeth from ear to + ear. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, when the varmint are at our heels, draw in thy woolly head, + and bleat like a young lamb. They won't turn from that, I know, the + vagabonds.” + </p> + <p> + Matters being thus prepared, they sauntered on; but the jackals were very + wary. They came like shadows, so departed—a great many times: but at + last being re-enforced, they lessened the distance, and got so close, that + Ucatella withdrew her head, and bleated faintly inside the wagon. The men + turned, levelling their rifles, and found the troop within twenty yards of + them. They wheeled directly: but the four barrels poured their flame, four + loud reports startled the night, and one jackal lay dead as a stone, + another limped behind the flying crowd, and one lay kicking. He was soon + despatched, and both carcasses flung over the patient oxen; and good-by + jackals for the rest of that journey. + </p> + <p> + Ucatella, with all a Kafir's love of fire-arms, clapped her hands with + delight. “My child shoots loud and strong,” said she. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, ay,” replied Phoebe; “they are all alike; wherever there's men, look + for quarrelling and firing off. We had only to sit quiet in the wagon.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay.” said Dick, “the cattle especially—for it is them the varmint + were after—and let 'em eat my Hottentots.” + </p> + <p> + At this picture of the cattle inside the wagon, and the jackals supping on + cold Hottentot alongside, Phoebe, who had no more humor than a cat, but a + heart of gold, shut up, and turned red with confusion at her false + estimate of the recent transaction in fur. + </p> + <p> + When the sun rose they found themselves in a tract somewhat less arid and + inhuman; and, at last, at the rise of a gentle slope, they saw, half a + mile before them, a large farmhouse partly clad with creepers, and a + little plot of turf, the fruit of eternal watering; item, a flower-bed; + item, snow-white palings; item, an air of cleanliness and neatness + scarcely known to those dirty descendants of clean ancestors, the Boers. + At some distance a very large dam glittered in the sun, and a troop of + snow-white sheep were watering at it. + </p> + <p> + “ENGLAND!” cried Christopher. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, sir,” said Phoebe; “as nigh as man can make it.” But soon she began + to fret: “Oh, dear! where are they all? If it was me, I'd be at the door + looking out. Ah, there goes Yuke to rouse them up.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, Pheeb, don't you fidget,” said Dick kindly. “Why, the lazy lot are + scarce out of their beds by this time.” + </p> + <p> + “More shame for 'em. If they were away from me, and coming home, I should + be at the door day AND night, I know. Ah!” + </p> + <p> + She uttered a scream of delight, for just then, out came Ucatella, with + little Tommy on her shoulder, and danced along to meet her. As she came + close, she raised the chubby child high in the air, and he crowed; and + then she lowered him to his mother, who rushed at him, seized, and + devoured him with a hundred inarticulate cries of joy and love + unspeakable. + </p> + <p> + “NATURE!” said Christopher dogmatically, recognizing an old acquaintance, + and booking it as one more conquest gained over the past. But there was + too much excitement over the cherub to attend to him. So he watched the + woman gravely, and began to moralize with all his might. “This,” said he, + “is what we used to call maternal love; and all animals had it, and that + is why the noble savage went for him. It was very good of you, Miss + Savage,” said the poor soul sententiously. + </p> + <p> + “Good of her!” cried Phoebe. “She is all goodness. Savage, find me a + Dutchwoman like her! I'll give her a good cuddle for it;” and she took the + Kafir round the neck, and gave her a hearty kiss, and made the little boy + kiss her too. + </p> + <p> + At this moment out came a collie dog, hunting Ucatella by scent alone, + which process landed him headlong in the group; he gave loud barks of + recognition, fawned on Phoebe and Dick, smelt poor Christopher, gave a + growl of suspicion, and lurked about squinting, dissatisfied, and lowering + his tail. + </p> + <p> + “Thou art wrong, lad, for once,” said Dick; “for he's an old friend, and a + good one.” + </p> + <p> + “After the dog, perhaps some Christian will come to welcome us,” said poor + Phoebe. + </p> + <p> + Obedient to the wish, out walked Sophy, the English nurse, a scraggy + woman, with a very cocked nose and thin, pinched lips, and an air of + respectability and pertness mingled. She dropped a short courtesy, shot + the glance of a basilisk at Ucatella, and said stiffly, “You are welcome + home, ma'am.” Then she took the little boy as one having authority. Not + that Phoebe would have surrendered him; but just then Mr. Falcon strolled + out, with a cigar in his mouth, and Phoebe, with her heart in HER mouth, + flew to meet him. There was a rapturous conjugal embrace, followed by + mutual inquiries; and the wagon drew up at the door. Then, for the first + time, Falcon observed Staines, saw at once he was a gentleman, and touched + his hat to him, to which Christopher responded in kind, and remembered he + had done so in the locked-up past. + </p> + <p> + Phoebe instantly drew her husband apart by the sleeve. “Who do you think + that is? You'll never guess. 'Tis the great doctor that saved Dick's life + in England with cutting of his throat. But, oh, my dear, he is not the man + he was. He is afflicted. Out of his mind partly. Well, we must cure him, + and square the account for Dick. I'm a proud woman at finding him, and + bringing him here to make him all right again, I can tell you. Oh, I am + happy, I am happy. Little did I think to be so happy as I am. And, my + dear, I have brought you a whole sackful of newspapers, old and new.” + </p> + <p> + “That is a good girl. But tell me a little more about him. What is his + name?” + </p> + <p> + “Christie.” + </p> + <p> + “Dr. Christie?” + </p> + <p> + “No doubt. He wasn't an apothecary, or a chemist, you may be sure, but a + high doctor, and the cleverest ever was or ever will be: and isn't it sad, + love, to see him brought down so? My heart yearns for the poor man: and + then his wife—the sweetest, loveliest creature you ever—oh!” + Phoebe stopped very short, for she remembered something all of a sudden; + nor did she ever again give Falcon a chance of knowing that the woman, + whose presence had so disturbed him, was this very Dr. Christie's wife. + “Curious!” thought she to herself, “the world to be so large, and yet so + small:” then aloud, “They are unpacking the wagon; come, dear. I don't + think I have forgotten anything of yours. There's cigars, and tobacco, and + powder, and shot, and bullets, and everything to make you comfortable, as + my duty 'tis; and—oh, but I'm a happy woman.” + </p> + <p> + Hottentots, big and little, clustered about the wagon. Treasure after + treasure was delivered with cries of delight; the dogs found out it was a + joyful time, and barked about the wheeled treasury; and the place did not + quiet down till sunset. + </p> + <p> + A plain but tidy little room was given to Christopher, and he slept there + like a top. Next morning his nurse called him up to help her water the + grass. She led the way with a tub on her head and two buckets in it. She + took him to the dam; when she got there she took out the buckets, left one + on the bank, and gave the other to Christie. She then went down the steps + till the water was up to her neck, and bade Christie fill the tub. He + poured eight bucketsful in. Then she came slowly out, straight as an + arrow, balancing this tub full on her head. Then she held out her hands + for the two buckets. Christie filled them, wondering, and gave them to + her. She took them like toy buckets, and glided slowly home with this + enormous weight, and never spilled a drop. Indeed, the walk was more + smooth and noble than ever, if possible. + </p> + <p> + When she reached the house, she hailed a Hottentot, and it cost the man + and Christopher a great effort of strength to lower her tub between them. + </p> + <p> + “What a vertebral column you must have!” said Christopher. + </p> + <p> + “You must not speak bad words, my child,” said she. “Now, you water the + grass and the flowers.” She gave him a watering-pot, and watched him + maternally; but did not put a hand to it. She evidently considered this + part of the business as child's play, and not a fit exercise of her + powers. + </p> + <p> + It was only by drowning that little oasis twice a day that the grass was + kept green and the flowers alive. + </p> + <p> + She found him other jobs in course of the day, and indeed he was always + helping somebody or other, and became quite ruddy, bronzed, and plump of + cheek, and wore a strange look of happiness, except at times when he got + apart, and tried to recall the distant past. Then he would knit his brow, + and looked perplexed and sad. + </p> + <p> + They were getting quite used to him, and he to them, when one day he did + not come in to dinner. Phoebe sent out for him; but they could not find + him. + </p> + <p> + The sun set. Phoebe became greatly alarmed, and even Dick was anxious. + </p> + <p> + They all turned out, with guns and dogs, and hunted for him beneath the + stars. + </p> + <p> + Just before daybreak Dick Dale saw a fire sparkle by the side of a distant + thicket. He went to it, and there was Ucatella seated, calm and grand as + antique statue, and Christopher lying by her side, with a shawl thrown + over him. As Dale came hurriedly up, she put her finger to her lips, and + said, “My child sleeps. Do not wake him. When he sleeps, he hunts the + past, as Collie hunts the springbok.” + </p> + <p> + “Here's a go,” said Dick. Then, hearing a chuckle, he looked up, and was + aware of a comical appendage to the scene. There hung, head downwards, + from a branch, a Kafir boy, who was, in fact, the brother of the stately + Ucatella, only went further into antiquity for his models of deportment; + for, as she imitated the antique marbles, he reproduced the habits of that + epoch when man roosted, and was arboreal. Wheel somersaults, and, above + all, swinging head downwards from a branch, were the sweeteners of his + existence. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! YOU are there, are you?” said Dick. + </p> + <p> + “Iss,” said Ucatella. “Tim good boy. Tim found my child.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Dick, “he has chosen a nice place. This is the clump the last + lion came out of, at least they say so. For my part, I never saw an + African lion; Falcon says they've all took ship, and gone to England. + However, I shall stay here with my rifle till daybreak. 'Tis tempting + Providence to lie down on the skirt of a wood for Lord knows what to jump + out on ye unawares.” + </p> + <p> + Tim was sent home for Hottentots, and Christopher was carried home, still + sleeping, and laid on his own bed. + </p> + <p> + He slept twenty-four hours more, and, when he was fairly awake, a sort of + mist seemed to clear away in places, and he remembered things at random. + He remembered being at sea on the raft with the dead body; that picture + was quite vivid to him. He remembered, too, being in the hospital, and + meeting Phoebe, and every succeeding incident; but as respected the more + distant past, he could not recall it by any effort of his will. His mind + could only go into that remoter past by material stepping-stones; and what + stepping-stones he had about him here led him back to general knowledge, + but not to his private history. + </p> + <p> + In this condition he puzzled them all strangely at the farm; his mind was + alternately so clear and so obscure. He would chat with Phoebe, and + sometimes give her a good practical hint; but the next moment, helpless + for want of memory, that great faculty without which judgment cannot act, + having no material. + </p> + <p> + After some days of this, he had another great sleep. It brought him back + the distant past in chapters. His wedding-day. His wife's face and dress + upon that day. His parting with her: his whole voyage out: but, strange to + say, it swept away one-half of that which he had recovered at his last + sleep, and he no longer remembered clearly how he came to be at Dale's + Kloof. + </p> + <p> + Thus his mind might be compared to one climbing a slippery place, who + gains a foot or two, then slips back; but on the whole gains more than he + loses. + </p> + <p> + He took a great liking to Falcon. That gentleman had the art of pleasing, + and the tact never to offend. + </p> + <p> + Falcon affected to treat the poor soul's want of memory as a common + infirmity; pretended he was himself very often troubled in the same way, + and advised him to read the newspapers. “My good wife,” said he, “has + brought me a whole file of the Cape Gazette. I'd read them if I was you. + The deuce is in it, if you don't rake up something or other.” + </p> + <p> + Christopher thanked him warmly for this: he got the papers to his own + little room, and had always one or two in his pocket for reading. At first + he found a good many hard words that puzzled him; and he borrowed a pencil + of Phoebe, and noted them down. Strange to say, the words that puzzled him + were always common words, that his unaccountable memory had forgotten: a + hard word, he was sure to remember that. + </p> + <p> + One day he had to ask Falcon the meaning of “spendthrift.” Falcon told him + briefly. He could have illustrated the word by a striking example; but he + did not. He added, in his polite way, “No fellow can understand all the + words in a newspaper. Now, here's a word in mine—'Anemometer;' who + the deuce can understand such a word?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, THAT is a common word enough,” said poor Christopher. “It means a + machine for measuring the force of the wind.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, indeed,” said Falcon; but did not believe a word of it. + </p> + <p> + One sultry day Christopher had a violent headache, and complained to + Ucatella. She told Phoebe, and they bound his brows with a wet + handkerchief, and advised him to keep in-doors. He sat down in the coolest + part of the house, and held his head with his hands, for it seemed as if + it would explode into two great fragments. + </p> + <p> + All in a moment the sky was overcast with angry clouds, whirling this way + and that. Huge drops of hail pattered down, and the next minute came a + tremendous flash of lightning, accompanied, rather than followed, by a + crash of thunder close over their heads. + </p> + <p> + This was the opening. Down came a deluge out of clouds that looked + mountains of pitch, and made the day night but for the fast and furious + strokes of lightning that fired the air. The scream of wind and awful + peals of thunder completed the horrors of the scene. + </p> + <p> + In the midst of this, by what agency I know no more than science or a + sheep does, something went off inside Christopher's head, like a + pistol-shot. He gave a sort of scream, and dashed out into the weather. + </p> + <p> + Phoebe heard his scream and his flying footstep, and uttered an + ejaculation of fear. The whole household was alarmed, and, under other + circumstances, would have followed him; but you could not see ten yards. + </p> + <p> + A chill sense of impending misfortune settled on the house. Phoebe threw + her apron over her head, and rocked in her chair. + </p> + <p> + Dick himself looked very grave. + </p> + <p> + Ucatella would have tried to follow him; but Dick forbade her. “'Tis no + use,” said he. “When it clears, we that be men will go for him.” + </p> + <p> + “Pray Heaven you may find him alive!” + </p> + <p> + “I don't think but what we shall. There's nowhere he can fall down to hurt + himself, nor yet drown himself, but our dam; and he has not gone that way. + But”— + </p> + <p> + “But what?” + </p> + <p> + “If we do find him, we must take him back to Cape Town, before he does + himself, or some one, a mischief. Why, Phoebe, don't you see the man has + gone raving mad?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX. + </h2> + <p> + The electrified man rushed out into the storm, but he scarcely felt it in + his body; the effect on his mind overpowered hail-stones. The lightning + seemed to light up the past; the mighty explosions of thunder seemed + cannon strokes knocking down a wall, and letting in his whole life. + </p> + <p> + Six hours the storm raged, and, before it ended, he had recovered nearly + his whole past, except his voyage with Captain Dodd—that, indeed, he + never recovered—and the things that happened to him in the hospital + before he met Phoebe Falcon and her brother: and as soon as he had + recovered his lost memory, his body began to shiver at the hail and rain. + He tried to find his way home, but missed it; not so much, however, but + that he recovered it as soon as it began to clear, and just as they were + coming out to look for him, he appeared before them, dripping, shivering, + very pale and worn, with the handkerchief still about his head. + </p> + <p> + At sight of him, Dick slipped back to his sister, and said, rather + roughly, “There now, you may leave off crying: he is come home; and + to-morrow I take him to Cape Town.” + </p> + <p> + Christopher crept in, a dismal, sinister figure. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sir,” said Phoebe, “was this a day for a Christian to be out in? How + could you go and frighten us so?” + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me, madam,” said Christopher humbly; “I was not myself.” + </p> + <p> + “The best thing you can do now is to go to bed, and let us send you up + something warm.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very good,” said Christopher, and retired with the air of one too + full of great amazing thoughts to gossip. + </p> + <p> + He slept thirty hours at a stretch, and then, awaking in the dead of + night, he saw the past even more clear and vivid; he lighted his candle + and began to grope in the Cape Gazette. As to dates, he now remembered + when he had sailed from England, and also from Madeira. Following up this + clew, he found in the Gazette a notice that H. M. ship Amphitrite had been + spoken off the Cape, and had reported the melancholy loss of a promising + physician and man of science, Dr. Staines. + </p> + <p> + The account said every exertion had been made to save him, but in vain. + </p> + <p> + Staines ground his teeth with rage at this. “Every exertion! the + false-hearted curs. They left me to drown, without one manly effort to + save me. Curse them, and curse all the world.” + </p> + <p> + Pursuing his researches rapidly, he found a much longer account of a raft + picked up by Captain Dodd, with a white man on it and a dead body, the + white man having on him a considerable sum in money and jewels. + </p> + <p> + Then a new anxiety chilled him. There was not a word to identify him with + Dr. Staines. The idea had never occurred to the editor of the Cape + Gazette. Still less would it occur to any one in England. At this moment + his wife must be mourning for him. “Poor—poor Rosa!” + </p> + <p> + But perhaps the fatal news might not have reached her. + </p> + <p> + That hope was dashed away as soon as found. Why, these were all OLD + NEWSPAPERS. That gentlemanly man who had lent them to him had said so. + </p> + <p> + Old! yet they completed the year 1867. + </p> + <p> + He now tore through them for the dates alone, and soon found they went to + 1868. Yet they were old papers. He had sailed in May, 1867. + </p> + <p> + “My God!” he cried, in agony, “I HAVE LOST A YEAR.” + </p> + <p> + This thought crushed him. By and by he began to carry this awful idea into + details. “My Rosa has worn mourning for me, and put it off again. I am + dead to her, and to all the world.” + </p> + <p> + He wept long and bitterly. + </p> + <p> + Those tears cleared his brain still more. For all that, he was not yet + himself; at least, I doubt it; his insanity, driven from the intellect, + fastened one lingering claw into his moral nature, and hung on by it. His + soul filled with bitterness and a desire to be revenged on mankind for + their injustice, and this thought possessed him more than reason. + </p> + <p> + He joined the family at breakfast; and never a word all the time. But when + he got up to go, he said, in a strange, dogged way, as if it went against + the grain, “God bless the house that succors the afflicted.” Then he went + out to brood alone. + </p> + <p> + “Dick,” said Phoebe, “there's a change. I'll never part with him: and + look, there's Collie following him, that never could abide him.” + </p> + <p> + “Part with him?” said Reginald. “Of course not. He is a gentleman, and + they are not so common in Africa.” + </p> + <p> + Dick, who hated Falcon, ignored this speech entirely, and said, “Well, + Pheeb, you and Collie are wiser than I am. Take your own way, and don't + blame me if anything happens.” + </p> + <p> + Soon Christopher paid the penalty of returning reason. He suffered all the + poignant agony a great heart can endure. + </p> + <p> + So this was his reward for his great act of self-denial in leaving his + beloved wife. He had lost his patient; he had lost the income from that + patient; his wife was worse off than before, and had doubtless suffered + the anguish of a loving heart bereaved. His mind, which now seemed more + vigorous than ever, after its long rest, placed her before his very eyes, + pale, and worn with grief, in her widow's cap. + </p> + <p> + At the picture, he cried like the rain. He could give her joy, by writing; + but he could not prevent her from suffering a whole year of misery. + </p> + <p> + Turning this over in connection with their poverty, his evil genius + whispered, “By this time she has received the six thousand pounds for your + death. SHE would never think of that; but her father has: and there is her + comfort assured, in spite of the caitiffs who left her husband to drown + like a dog. + </p> + <p> + “I know my Rosa,” he thought. “She has swooned—ah, my poor darling—she + has raved—she has wept,” he wept himself at the thought—“she + has mourned every indiscreet act, as if it was a crime. But she HAS done + all this. Her good and loving but shallow nature is now at rest from the + agonies of bereavement, and nought remains but sad and tender regrets. She + can better endure that than poverty: cursed poverty, which has brought her + and me to this, and is the only real evil in the world, but bodily pain.” + </p> + <p> + Then came a struggle, that lasted a whole week, and knitted his brows, and + took the color from his cheek; but it ended in the triumph of love and + hate, over conscience and common sense. His Rosa should not be poor; and + he would cheat some of those contemptible creatures called men, who had + done him nothing but injustice, and at last had sacrificed his life like a + rat's. + </p> + <p> + When the struggle was over, and the fatal resolution taken, then he became + calmer, less solitary, and more sociable. + </p> + <p> + Phoebe, who was secretly watching him with a woman's eye, observed this + change in him, and, with benevolent intentions, invited him one day to + ride round the farm with her. He consented readily. She showed him the + fields devoted to maize and wheat, and then the sheepfolds. Tim's sheep + were apparently deserted; but he was discovered swinging head downwards + from the branch of a camel-thorn, and seeing him, it did strike one that + if he had had a tail he would have been swinging by that. Phoebe called to + him: he never answered, but set off running to her, and landed himself + under her nose in a wheel somersault. + </p> + <p> + “I hope you are watching them, Tim,” said his mistress. + </p> + <p> + “Iss, missy, always washing 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, there's one straying towards the wood now.” + </p> + <p> + “He not go far,” said Tim coolly. The young monkey stole off a little way, + then fell flat, and uttered the cry of a jackal, with startling precision. + Back went the sheep to his comrades post haste, and Tim effected a + somersault and a chuckle. + </p> + <p> + “You are a clever boy,” said Phoebe. “So that is how you manage them.” + </p> + <p> + “Dat one way, missy,” said Tim, not caring to reveal all his resources at + once. + </p> + <p> + Then Phoebe rode on, and showed Christopher the ostrich pan. It was a + large basin, a form the soil often takes in these parts; and in it + strutted several full-grown ostriches and their young, bred on the + premises. There was a little dam of water, and plenty of food about. They + were herded by a Kafir infant of about six, black, glossy, fat, and clean, + being in the water six times a day. + </p> + <p> + Sometimes one of the older birds would show an inclination to stray out of + the pan. Then the infant rolled after her, and tapped her ankles with a + wand. She instantly came back, but without any loss of dignity, for she + strutted with her nose in the air, affecting completely to ignore the + inferior little animal, that was nevertheless controlling her movements. + “There's a farce,” said Phoebe. “But you would not believe the money they + cost me, nor the money they bring me in. Grain will not sell here for a + quarter its value: and we can't afford to send it to Cape Town, twenty + days and back; but finery, that sells everywhere. I gather sixty pounds + the year off those poor fowls' backs—clear profit.” + </p> + <p> + She showed him the granary, and told him there wasn't such another in + Africa. This farm had belonged to one of the old Dutch settlers, and that + breed had been going down this many a year. “You see, sir, Dick and I + being English, and not downright in want of money, we can't bring + ourselves to sell grain to the middlemen for nothing, so we store it, + hoping for better times, that maybe will never come. Now I'll show you how + the dam is made.” + </p> + <p> + They inspected the dam all round. “This is our best friend of all,” said + she. “Without this the sun would turn us all to tinder,—crops, + flowers, beasts, and folk.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, indeed,” said Staines. “Then it is a pity you have not built it more + scientifically. I must have a look at this.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay do, sir, and advise us if you see anything wrong. But hark! it is + milking time. Come and see that.” So she led the way to some sheds, and + there they found several cows being milked, each by a little calf and a + little Hottentot at the same time, and both fighting and jostling each + other for the udder. Now and then a young cow, unused to incongruous + twins, would kick impatiently at both animals and scatter them. + </p> + <p> + “That is their way,” said Phoebe: “they have got it into their silly + Hottentot heads as kye won't yield their milk if the calf is taken away; + and it is no use arguing with 'em; they will have their own way; but they + are very trusty and honest, poor things. We soon found that out. When we + came here first it was in a hired wagon, and Hottentot drivers: so when we + came to settle I made ready for a bit of a wrangle. But my maid Sophy, + that is nurse now, and a great despiser of heathens, she says, 'Don't you + trouble; them nasty ignorant blacks never charges more than their due.' 'I + forgive 'em,' says I; 'I wish all white folk was as nice.' However, I did + give them a trifle over, for luck: and then they got together and + chattered something near the door, hand in hand. 'La, Sophy,' says I, + 'what is up now?' Says she, 'They are blessing of us. Things is come to a + pretty pass, for ignorant Muslinmen heathen to be blessing Christian + folk.' 'Well,' says I, 'it won't hurt us any.' 'I don't know,' says she. + 'I don't want the devil prayed over me.' So she cocked that long nose of + hers and followed it in a doors.” + </p> + <p> + By this time they were near the house, and Phoebe was obliged to come to + her postscript, for the sake of which, believe me, she had uttered every + syllable of this varied chat. “Well, sir,” said she, affecting to proceed + without any considerable change of topic, “and how do you find yourself? + Have you discovered the past?” + </p> + <p> + “I have, madam. I remember every leading incident of my life.” + </p> + <p> + “And has it made you happier?” said Phoebe softly. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Christopher gravely. “Memory has brought me misery.” + </p> + <p> + “I feared as much; for you have lost your fine color, and your eyes are + hollow, and lines on your poor brow that were not there before. Are you + not sorry you have discovered the past?” + </p> + <p> + “No, Mrs. Falcon. Give me the sovereign gift of reason, with all the + torture it can inflict. I thank God for returning memory, even with the + misery it brings.” + </p> + <p> + Phoebe was silent a long time: then she said in a low, gentle voice, and + with the indirectness of a truly feminine nature, “I have plenty of + writing-paper in the house; and the post goes south to-morrow, such as + 'tis.” + </p> + <p> + Christopher struggled with his misery, and trembled. + </p> + <p> + He was silent a long time. Then he said, “No. It is her interest that I + should be dead.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, but, sir—take a thought.” + </p> + <p> + “Not a word more, I implore you. I am the most miserable man that ever + breathed.” As he spoke, two bitter tears forced their way. + </p> + <p> + Phoebe cast a look of pity on him, and said no more; but she shook her + head. Her plain common sense revolted. + </p> + <p> + However, it did not follow he would be in the same mind next week: so she + was in excellent spirits at her protege's recovery, and very proud of her + cure, and celebrated the event with a roaring supper, including an English + ham, and a bottle of port wine; and, ten to one, that was English too. + </p> + <p> + Dick Dale looked a little incredulous, but he did not spare the ham any + the more for that. + </p> + <p> + After supper, in a pause of conversation, Staines turned to Dick, and + said, rather abruptly, “Suppose that dam of yours were to burst and empty + its contents, would it not be a great misfortune to you?” + </p> + <p> + “Misfortune, sir! Don't talk of it. Why, it would ruin us, beast and + body.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it will burst, if it is not looked to.” + </p> + <p> + “Dale's Kloof dam burst! the biggest and strongest for a hundred miles + round.” + </p> + <p> + “You deceive yourself. It is not scientifically built, to begin, and there + is a cause at work that will infallibly burst it, if not looked to in + time.” + </p> + <p> + “And what is that, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “The dam is full of crabs.” + </p> + <p> + “So 'tis; but what of them?” + </p> + <p> + “I detected two of them that had perforated the dyke from the wet side to + the dry, and water was trickling through the channel they had made. Now, + for me to catch two that had come right through, there must be a great + many at work honeycombing your dyke; those channels, once made, will be + enlarged by the permeating water, and a mere cupful of water forced into a + dyke by the great pressure of a heavy column has an expansive power quite + out of proportion to the quantity forced in. Colossal dykes have been + burst in this way with disastrous effects. Indeed, it is only a question + of time, and I would not guarantee your dyke twelve hours. It is full, + too, with the heavy rains.” + </p> + <p> + “Here's a go!” said Dick, turning pale. “Well, if it is to burst, it + must.” + </p> + <p> + “Why so? You can make it safe in a few hours. You have got a clumsy + contrivance for letting off the excess of water: let us go and relieve the + dam at once of two feet of water. That will make it safe for a day or two, + and to-morrow we will puddle it afresh, and demolish those busy + excavators.” + </p> + <p> + He spoke with such authority and earnestness, that they all got up from + table; a horn was blown that soon brought the Hottentots, and they all + proceeded to the dam. With infinite difficulty they opened the waste + sluice, lowered the water two feet, and so drenched the arid soil that in + forty-eight hours flowers unknown sprang up. + </p> + <p> + Next morning, under the doctor's orders, all the black men and boys were + diving with lumps of stiff clay and puddling the endangered wall with a + thick wall of it. This took all the people the whole day. + </p> + <p> + Next day the clay wall was carried two feet higher, and then the doctor + made them work on the other side and buttress the dyke with supports so + enormous as seemed extravagant to Dick and Phoebe; but, after all, it was + as well to be on the safe side, they thought: and soon they were sure of + it, for the whole work was hardly finished when the news came in that the + dyke of a neighboring Boer, ten miles off, had exploded like a cannon, and + emptied itself in five minutes, drowning the farm-yard and floating the + furniture, but leaving them all to perish of drought; and indeed the + Boer's cart came every day, with empty barrels, for some time, to beg + water of the Dales. Ucatella pondered all this, and said her doctor child + was wise. + </p> + <p> + This brief excitement over, Staines went back to his own gloomy thoughts, + and they scarcely saw him, except at supper-time. + </p> + <p> + One evening he surprised them all by asking if they would add to all their + kindness by lending him a horse, and a spade, and a few pounds to go to + the diamond fields. + </p> + <p> + Dick Dale looked at his sister. She said, “We had rather lend them you to + go home with, sir, if you must leave us; but, dear heart, I was half in + hopes—Dick and I were talking it over only yesterday—that you + would go partners like with us; ever since you saved the dam.” + </p> + <p> + “I have too little to offer for that, Mrs. Falcon; and, besides, I am + driven into a corner. I must make money quickly, or not at all: the + diamonds are only three hundred miles off: for heaven's sake, let me try + my luck.” + </p> + <p> + They tried to dissuade him, and told him not one in fifty did any good at + it. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, but I shall,” said he. “Great bad luck is followed by great good + luck, and I feel my turn is come. Not that I rely on luck. An accident + directed my attention to the diamond a few years ago, and I read a number + of prime works upon the subject that told me of things not known to the + miners. It is clear, from the Cape journals, that they are looking for + diamonds in the river only. Now, I am sure that is a mistake. Diamonds, + like gold, have their matrix, and it is comparatively few gems that get + washed into the river. I am confident that I shall find the volcanic + matrix, and perhaps make my fortune in a week or two.” + </p> + <p> + When the dialogue took this turn, Reginald Falcon's cheek began to flush, + and his eyes to glitter. + </p> + <p> + Christopher continued: “You who have befriended me so will not turn back, + I am sure, when I have such a chance before me; and as for the small sum + of money I shall require, I will repay you some day, even if”— + </p> + <p> + “La, sir, don't talk so. If you put it that way, why, the best horse we + have, and fifty pounds in good English gold, they are at your service + to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “And pick and spade to boot,” said Dick, “and a double rifle, for there + are lions, and Lord knows what, between this and the Vaal river.” + </p> + <p> + “God bless you both!” said Christopher. “I will start to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “And I'll go with you,” said Reginald Falcon. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX. + </h2> + <p> + “Heaven forbid!” said Phoebe. “No, my dear, no more diamonds for us. We + never had but one, and it brought us trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense, Phoebe,” replied Falcon; “it was not the diamond's fault. You + know I have often wanted to go there, but you objected. You said you were + afraid some evil would befall me. But now Solomon himself is going to the + mines, let us have no more of that nonsense. We will take our rifles and + our pistols.” + </p> + <p> + “There—there—rifles and pistols,” cried Phoebe; “that shows.” + </p> + <p> + “And we will be there in a week; stay a month, and home with our pockets + full of diamonds.” + </p> + <p> + “And find me dead of a broken heart.” + </p> + <p> + “Broken fiddlestick! We have been parted longer than that, and yet here we + are all right.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, but the pitcher that goes too often to the well gets broke at last. + No, Reginald, now I have tasted three years' happiness and peace of mind, + I cannot go through what I used in England. Oh, doctor! have you the heart + to part man and wife, that have never been a day from each other all these + years?” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Falcon, I would not do it for all the diamonds in Brazil. No, Mr. + Falcon, I need hardly say how charmed I should be to have your company: + but that is a pleasure I shall certainly deny myself, after what your good + wife has said. I owe her too much to cause her a single pang.” + </p> + <p> + “Doctor,” said the charming Reginald, “you are a gentleman and side with + the lady. Quite right. It adds to my esteem, if possible. Make your mind + easy; I will go alone. I am not a farmer. I am dead sick of this + monotonous life; and, since I am compelled to speak my mind, a little + ashamed, as a gentleman, of living on my wife and her brother, and doing + nothing for myself. So I shall go to the Vaal river, and see a little + life; here there's nothing but vegetation—and not much of that. Not + a word more, Phoebe, if you please. I am a good, easy, affectionate + husband, but I am a man, and not a child to be tied to a woman's + apron-strings, however much I may love and respect her.” + </p> + <p> + Dick put in his word: “Since you are so independent, you can WALK to the + Vaal river. I can't spare a couple of horses.” + </p> + <p> + This hit the sybarite hard, and he cast a bitter glance of hatred at his + brother-in-law, and fell into a moody silence. + </p> + <p> + But when he got Phoebe to himself, he descanted on her selfishness, Dick's + rudeness, and his own wounded dignity, till he made her quite anxious he + should have his own way. She came to Staines, with red eyes, and said, + “Tell me, doctor, will there be any women up there—to take care of + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a petticoat in the place, I believe. It is a very rough life; and how + Falcon could think of leaving you and sweet little Tommy, and this life of + health, and peace, and comfort—” + </p> + <p> + “Yet YOU do leave us, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I am the most unfortunate man upon the earth; Falcon is one of the + happiest. Would I leave wife and child to go there? Ah me! I am dead to + those I love. This is my one chance of seeing my darling again for many a + long year perhaps. Oh, I must not speak of HER—it unmans me. My + good, kind friend, I'll tell you what to do. When we are all at supper, + let a horse be saddled and left in the yard for me. I'll bid you all + good-night, and I'll put fifty miles between us before morning. Even then + HE need not be told I am gone; he will not follow me.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very good, sir,” said Phoebe; “but no. Too much has been said. I + can't have him humbled by my brother, nor any one. He says I am selfish. + Perhaps I am; though I never was called so. I can't bear he should think + me selfish. He WILL go, and so let us have no ill blood about it. Since he + is to go, of course I'd much liever he should go with you than by himself. + You are sure there are no women up there—to take care of—you—both? + You must be purse-bearer, sir, and look to every penny. He is too generous + when he has got money to spend.” + </p> + <p> + In short, Reginald had played so upon her heart, that she now urged the + joint expedition, only she asked a delay of a day or two to equip them, + and steel herself to the separation. + </p> + <p> + Staines did not share those vague fears that overpowered the wife, whose + bitter experiences were unknown to him; but he felt uncomfortable at her + condition—for now she was often in tears—and he said all he + could to comfort her; and he also advised her how to profit by these + terrible diamonds, in her way. He pointed out to her that her farm lay + right in the road to the diamonds, yet the traffic all shunned her, + passing twenty miles to the westward. Said he, “You should profit by all + your resources. You have wood, a great rarity in Africa; order a portable + forge; run up a building where miners can sleep, another where they can + feed; the grain you have so wisely refused to sell, grind it into flour.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear heart! why, there's neither wind nor water to turn a mill.” + </p> + <p> + “But there are oxen. I'll show you how to make an ox-mill. Send your Cape + cart into Cape Town for iron lathes, for coffee and tea, and groceries by + the hundredweight. The moment you are ready—for success depends on + the order in which we act—then prepare great boards, and plant them + twenty miles south. Write or paint on them, very large, 'The nearest way + to the Diamond Mines, through Dale's Kloof, where is excellent + accommodation for man and beast. Tea, coffee, home-made bread, fresh + butter, etc., etc.' Do this, and you will soon leave off decrying + diamonds. This is the sure way to coin them. I myself take the doubtful + way; but I can't help it. I am a dead man, and swift good fortune will + give me life. You can afford to go the slower road and the surer.” + </p> + <p> + Then he drew her a model of an ox-mill, and of a miner's dormitory, the + partitions six feet six apart, so that these very partitions formed the + bedstead, the bed-sacking being hooked to the uprights. He drew his model + for twenty bedrooms. + </p> + <p> + The portable forge and the ox-mill pleased Dick Dale most, but the + partitioned bedsteads charmed Phoebe. She said, “Oh, doctor, how can one + man's head hold so many things? If there's a man on earth I can trust my + husband with, 'tis you. But if things go cross up there, promise me you + will come back at once and cast in your lot with us. We have got money and + stock, and you have got headpiece; we might do very well together. Indeed, + indeed we might. Promise me. Oh, do, please, promise me!” + </p> + <p> + “I promise you.” + </p> + <p> + And on this understanding, Staines and Falcon were equipped with rifles, + pickaxe, shovels, waterproofs, and full saddle-bags, and started, with + many shakings of the hand, and many tears from Phoebe, for the diamond + washings. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI. + </h2> + <p> + Phoebe's tears at parting made Staines feel uncomfortable, and he said so. + </p> + <p> + “Pooh, pooh!” said Falcon, “crying for nothing does a woman good.” + </p> + <p> + Christopher stared at him. + </p> + <p> + Falcon's spirits rose as they proceeded. He was like a boy let loose from + school. His fluency and charm of manner served, however, to cheer a + singularly dreary journey. + </p> + <p> + The travellers soon entered on a vast and forbidding region, that wearied + the eye; at their feet a dull, rusty carpet of dried grass and wild + camomile, with pale-red sand peeping through the burnt and scanty herbage. + On the low mounds, that looked like heaps of sifted ashes, struggled now + and then into sickliness a ragged, twisted shrub. There were flowers too, + but so sparse, that they sparkled vainly in the colorless waste, which + stretched to the horizon. The farmhouses were twenty miles apart, and nine + out of ten of them were new ones built by the Boers since they degenerated + into white savages: mere huts, with domed kitchens behind them. In the + dwelling-house the whole family pigged together, with raw flesh drying on + the rafters, stinking skins in a corner, parasitical vermin of all sorts + blackening the floor, and particularly a small, biting, and odoriferous + tortoise, compared with which the insect a London washerwoman brings into + your house in her basket, is a stroke with a feather—and all this + without the excuse of penury; for many of these were shepherd kings, + sheared four thousand fleeces a year, and owned a hundred horses and + horned cattle. + </p> + <p> + These Boers are compelled, by unwritten law, to receive travellers and + water their cattle; but our travellers, after one or two experiences, + ceased to trouble them; for, added to the dirt, the men were sullen, the + women moody, silent, brainless; the whole reception churlish. Staines + detected in them an uneasy consciousness that they had descended, in more + ways than one, from a civilized race; and the superior bearing of a + European seemed to remind them what they had been, and might have been, + and were not; so, after an attempt or two, our adventurers avoided the + Boers, and tried the Kafirs. They found the savages socially superior, + though their moral character does not rank high. + </p> + <p> + The Kafir cabins they entered were caves, lighted only by the door, but + deliciously cool, and quite clean; the floors of puddled clay or ants' + nests, and very clean. On entering these cool retreats, the flies that had + tormented them shirked the cool grot, and buzzed off to the nearest farm + to batten on congenial foulness. On the fat, round, glossy babies, not a + speck of dirt, whereas the little Boers were cakes thereof. The Kafir + would meet them at the door, his clean black face all smiles and welcome. + The women and grown girls would fling a spotless handkerchief over their + shoulders in a moment, and display their snowy teeth, in unaffected joy at + sight of an Englishman. + </p> + <p> + At one of these huts, one evening, they met with something St. Paul ranks + above cleanliness even, viz., Christianity. A neighboring lion had just + eaten a Hottentot faute de mieux; and these good Kafirs wanted the + Europeans not to go on at night and be eaten for dessert. But they could + not speak a word of English, and pantomimic expression exists in theory + alone. In vain the women held our travellers by the coat-tails, and + pointed to a distant wood. In vain Kafir pere went on all-fours and + growled sore. But at last a savage youth ran to the kitchen—for they + never cook in the house—and came back with a brand, and sketched, on + the wall of the hut, a lion with a mane down to the ground, and a saucer + eye, not loving. The creature's paw rested on a hat and coat and another + fragment or two of a European. The rest was fore-shortened, or else eaten. + </p> + <p> + The picture completed, the females looked, approved, and raised a dismal + howl. + </p> + <p> + “A lion on the road,” said Christopher gravely. + </p> + <p> + Then the undaunted Falcon seized the charcoal, and drew an Englishman in a + theatrical attitude, left foot well forward, firing a gun, and a lion + rolling head over heels like a buck rabbit, and blood squirting out of a + hole in his perforated carcass. + </p> + <p> + The savages saw, and exulted. They were so off their guard as to confound + representation with fact; they danced round the white warrior, and + launched him to victory. + </p> + <p> + “Aha!” said Falcon, “I took the shine out of their lion, didn't I?” + </p> + <p> + “You did: and once there was a sculptor who showed a lion his marble + group, a man trampling a lion, extracting his tongue, and so on; but + report says it DID NOT CONVINCE THE LION.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, no; a lion is not an ass. But, for your comfort, there ARE no lions + in this part of the world. They are myths. There were lions in Africa. But + now they are all at the Zoo. And I wish I was there too.” + </p> + <p> + “In what character—of a discontented animal—with every + blessing? They would not take you in; too common in England. Hallo! this + is something new. What lots of bushes! We should not have much chance with + a lion here.” + </p> + <p> + “There ARE no lions: it is not the Zoo,” said Falcon; but he spurred on + faster. + </p> + <p> + The country, however, did not change its feature; bushes and little + acacias prevailed, and presently dark forms began to glide across at + intervals. + </p> + <p> + The travellers held their breath, and pushed on; but at last their horses + flagged; so they thought it best to stop and light a fire and stand upon + their guard. + </p> + <p> + They did so, and Falcon sat with his rifle cocked, while Staines boiled + coffee, and they drank it, and after two hours' halt, pushed on; and at + last the bushes got more scattered, and they were on the dreary plain + again. Falcon drew the rein, with a sigh of relief, and they walked their + horses side by side. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what has become of the lions?” said Falcon jauntily. He turned in + his saddle, and saw a large animal stealing behind them with its belly to + the very earth, and eyes hot coals; he uttered an eldrich screech, fired + both barrels, with no more aim than a baby, and spurred away, yelling like + a demon. The animal fled another way, in equal trepidation at those + tongues of flame and loud reports, and Christopher's horse reared and + plunged, and deposited him promptly on the sward; but he held the bridle, + mounted again, and rode after his companion. A stern chase is a long + chase; and for that or some other reason he could never catch him again + till sunrise. Being caught, he ignored the lioness, with cool hauteur: he + said he had ridden on to find comfortable quarters: and craved thanks. + </p> + <p> + This was literally the only incident worth recording that the companions + met with in three hundred miles. + </p> + <p> + On the sixth day out, towards afternoon, they found by inquiring they were + near the diamond washings, and the short route was pointed out by an + exceptionally civil Boer. + </p> + <p> + But Christopher's eye had lighted upon a sort of chain of knolls, or + little round hills, devoid of vegetation, and he told Falcon he would like + to inspect these, before going farther. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said the Boer, “they are not on my farm, thank goodness! they are on + my cousin Bulteel's;” and he pointed to a large white house about four + miles distant, and quite off the road. Nevertheless, Staines insisted on + going to it. But first they made up to one of these knolls, and examined + it; it was about thirty feet high, and not a vestige of herbage on it; the + surface was composed of sand and of lumps of gray limestone very hard, + diversified with lots of quartz, mica, and other old formations. + </p> + <p> + Staines got to the top of it with some difficulty, and examined the + surface all over. He came down again, and said, “All these little hills + mark hot volcanic action—why, they are like boiling earth-bubbles—which + is the very thing, under certain conditions, to turn carbonate of lime + into diamonds. Now here is plenty of limestone unnaturally hard; and being + in a diamond country, I can fancy no place more likely to be the matrix + than these earth-bubbles. Let us tether the horses, and use our shovels.” + </p> + <p> + They did so; and found one or two common crystals, and some jasper, and a + piece of chalcedony all in little bubbles, but no diamond. Falcon said it + was wasting time. + </p> + <p> + Just then the proprietor, a gigantic, pasty colonist, came up, with his + pipe, and stood calmly looking on. Staines came down, and made a sort of + apology. Bulteel smiled quietly, and asked what harm they could do him, + raking that rubbish. “Rake it all avay, mine vriends,” said he: “ve shall + thank you moch.” + </p> + <p> + He then invited them languidly to his house. They went with him, and as he + volunteered no more remarks, they questioned him, and learned his father + had been a Hollander, and so had his vrow's. This accounted for the size + and comparative cleanliness of his place. It was stuccoed with the lime of + the country outside, and was four times as large as the miserable + farmhouses of the degenerate Boers. For all this, the street door opened + on the principal room, and that room was kitchen and parlor, only very + large and wholesome. “But, Lord,” as poor dear Pepys used to blurt out—“to + see how some folk understand cleanliness!” The floor was made of powdered + ants' nests, and smeared with fresh cow-dung every day. Yet these people + were the cleanest Boers in the colony. + </p> + <p> + The vrow met them, with a snow-white collar and cuffs of Hamburgh linen, + and the brats had pasty faces round as pumpkins, but shone with soap. The + vrow was also pasty-faced, but gentle, and welcomed them with a smile, + languid, but unequivocal. + </p> + <p> + The Hottentots took their horses, as a matter of course. Their guns were + put in a corner. A clean cloth was spread, and they saw they were to sup + and sleep there, though the words of invitation were never spoken. + </p> + <p> + At supper, sun-dried flesh, cabbage, and a savory dish the travellers + returned to with gusto. Staines asked what it was: the vrow told him—locusts. + They had stripped her garden, and filled her very rooms, and fallen in + heaps under her walls; so she had pressed them, by the million, into + cakes, had salted them lightly, and stored them, and they were excellent, + baked. + </p> + <p> + After supper, the accomplished Reginald, observing a wire guitar, tuned it + with some difficulty, and so twanged it, and sang ditties to it, that the + flabby giant's pasty face wore a look of dreamy content over his + everlasting pipe; and in the morning, after a silent breakfast, he said, + “Mine vriends, stay here a year or two, and rake in mine rubbish. Ven you + are tired, here are springbok and antelopes, and you can shoot mit your + rifles, and ve vil cook them, and you shall zing us zongs of Vaderland.” + </p> + <p> + They thanked him heartily, and said they would stay a few days, at all + events. + </p> + <p> + The placid Boer went a-farming; and the pair shouldered their pick and + shovel, and worked on their heap all day, and found a number of pretty + stones, but no diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Come,” said Falcon, “we must go to the river;” and Staines acquiesced. “I + bow to experience,” said he. + </p> + <p> + At the threshold they found two of the little Bulteels, playing with + pieces of quartz, crystal, etc., on the door-stone. One of these stones + caught Staines's eye directly. It sparkled in a different way from the + others: he examined it: it was the size of a white haricot bean, and one + side of it polished by friction. He looked at it, and looked, and saw that + it refracted the light. He felt convinced it was a diamond. + </p> + <p> + “Give the boy a penny for it,” said the ingenious Falcon, on receiving the + information. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Staines. “Take advantage of a child?” + </p> + <p> + He borrowed it of the boy, and laid it on the table, after supper. “Sir,” + said he, “this is what we were raking in your kopjes for, and could not + find it. It belongs to little Hans. Will you sell it us? We are not + experts, but we think it may be a diamond. We will risk ten pounds on it.” + </p> + <p> + “Ten pounds!” said the farmer. “Nay, we rob not travellers, mine vriend.” + </p> + <p> + “But if it is a diamond, it is worth a hundred. See how it gains fire in + the dusk.” + </p> + <p> + In short, they forced the ten pounds on him, and next day went to work on + another kopje. + </p> + <p> + But the simple farmer's conscience smote him. It was a slack time; so he + sent four Hotteatots, with shovels, to help these friendly maniacs. These + worked away gayly, and the white men set up a sorting table, and sorted + the stuff, and hammered the nodules, and at last found a little stone as + big as a pea that refracted the light. Staines showed this to the + Hottentots, and their quick eyes discovered two more that day, only + smaller. + </p> + <p> + Next day, nothing but a splinter or two. + </p> + <p> + Then Staines determined to dig deeper, contrary to the general impression. + He gave his reason: “Diamonds don't fall from the sky. They work up from + the ground; and clearly the heat must be greater farther down.” + </p> + <p> + Acting on this, they tried the next strata, but found it entirely barren. + After that, however, they came to a fresh layer of carbonate, and here, + Falcon hammering a large lump of conglomerate, out leaped, all of a + sudden, a diamond big as a nut, that ran along the earth, gleaming like a + star. It had polished angles and natural facets, and even a novice, with + an eye in his head, could see it was a diamond of the purest water. + Staines and Falcon shouted with delight, and made the blacks a present on + the spot. + </p> + <p> + They showed the prize, at night, and begged the farmer to take to digging. + There was ten times more money beneath his soil than on it. + </p> + <p> + Not he. He was a farmer: did not believe in diamonds. Two days afterwards, + another great find. Seven small diamonds. + </p> + <p> + Next day, a stone as large as a cob-nut, and with strange and beautiful + streaks. They carried it home to dinner, and set it on the table, and told + the family it was worth a thousand pounds. Bulteel scarcely looked at it; + but the vrow trembled and all the young folk glowered at it. + </p> + <p> + In the middle of dinner, it exploded like a cracker, and went literally + into diamond-dust. + </p> + <p> + “Dere goes von tousand pounds,” said Bulteel, without moving a muscle. + </p> + <p> + Falcon swore. But Staines showed fortitude. “It was laminated,” said he, + “and exposure to the air was fatal.” + </p> + <p> + Owing to the invaluable assistance of the Hottentots, they had in less + than a month collected four large stones of pure water, and a wineglassful + of small stones, when, one fine day, going to work calmly after breakfast, + they found some tents pitched, and at least a score of dirty diggers, + bearded like the pard, at work on the ground. Staines sent Falcon back to + tell Bulteel, and suggest that he should at once order them off, or, + better still, make terms with them. The phlegmatic Boer did neither. + </p> + <p> + In twenty-four hours it was too late. The place was rushed. In other + words, diggers swarmed to the spot, with no idea of law but digger's law. + </p> + <p> + A thousand tents rose like mushrooms; and poor Bulteel stood smoking, and + staring amazed, at his own door, and saw a veritable procession of wagons, + Cape carts, and powdered travellers file past him to take possession of + his hillocks. Him, the proprietor, they simply ignored; they had a + committee who were to deal with all obstructions, landlords and tenants + included. They themselves measured out Bulteel's farm into thirty-foot + claims, and went to work with shovel and pick. They held Staines's claim + sacred—that was diggers' law; but they confined it strictly to + thirty feet square. + </p> + <p> + Had the friends resisted, their brains would have been knocked out. + However, they gained this, that dealers poured in, and the market not + being yet glutted, the price was good. Staines sold a few of the small + stones for two hundred pounds. He showed one of the larger stones. The + dealer's eye glittered, but he offered only three hundred pounds, and this + was so wide of the ascending scale, on which a stone of that importance is + priced, that Staines reserved it for sale at Cape Town. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, he afterwards doubted whether he had not better have taken + it; for the multitude of diggers turned out such a prodigious number of + diamonds at Bulteel's pan, that a sort of panic fell on the market. + </p> + <p> + These dry diggings were a revelation to the world. Men began to think the + diamond perhaps was a commoner stone than any one had dreamed it to be. + </p> + <p> + As to the discovery of stones, Staines and Falcon lost nothing by being + confined to a thirty-foot claim. Compelled to dig deeper, they got into a + rich strata, where they found garnets by the pint, and some small + diamonds, and at last, one lucky day, their largest diamond. It weighed + thirty-seven carats, and was a rich yellow. Now, when a diamond is clouded + or off color, it is terribly depreciated; but a diamond with a positive + color is called a fancy stone, and ranks with the purest stones. + </p> + <p> + “I wish I had this in Cape Town,” said Staines. + </p> + <p> + “Why, I'll take it to Cape Town, if you like,” said the changeable Falcon. + </p> + <p> + “You will?” said Christopher, surprised. + </p> + <p> + “Why not? I'm not much of a digger. I can serve our interest better by + selling. I could get a thousand pounds for this at Cape Town.” + </p> + <p> + “We will talk of that quietly,” said Christopher. + </p> + <p> + Now, the fact is, Falcon, as a digger, was not worth a pin. He could not + sort. His eyes would not bear the blinding glare of a tropical sun upon + lime and dazzling bits of mica, quartz, crystal, white topaz, etc., in the + midst of which the true glint of the royal stone had to be caught in a + moment. He could not sort, and he had not the heart to dig. The only way + to make him earn his half was to turn him into the travelling and selling + partner. + </p> + <p> + Christopher was too generous to tell him this; but he acted on it, and + said he thought his was an excellent proposal; indeed, he had better take + all the diamonds they had got to Dale's Kloof first, and show them to his + wife, for her consolation: “And perhaps,” said he, “in a matter of this + importance, she will go to Cape Town with you, and try the market there.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Falcon. + </p> + <p> + He sat and brooded over the matter a long time, and said, “Why make two + bites of a cherry? They will only give us half the value at Cape Town; why + not go by the steamer to England, before the London market is glutted, and + all the world finds out that diamonds are as common as dirt?” + </p> + <p> + “Go to England! What! without your wife? I'll never be a party to that. Me + part man and wife! If you knew my own story”— + </p> + <p> + “Why, who wants you?” said Reginald. “You don't understand. Phoebe is + dying to visit England again; but she has got no excuse. If you like to + give her one, she will be much obliged to you, I can tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that is a very different matter. If Mrs. Falcon can leave her farm—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that brute of a brother of hers is a very honest fellow, for that + matter. She can trust the farm to him. Besides, it is only a month's + voyage by the mail steamer.” + </p> + <p> + This suggestion of Falcon's set Christopher's heart bounding, and his eyes + glistening. But he restrained himself, and said, “This takes me by + surprise; let me smoke a pipe over it.” + </p> + <p> + He not only did that, but he lay awake all night. + </p> + <p> + The fact is that for some time past, Christopher had felt sharp twinges of + conscience, and deep misgivings as to the course he had pursued in leaving + his wife a single day in the dark. Complete convalescence had cleared his + moral sentiments, and perhaps, after all, the discovery of the diamonds + had co-operated; since now the insurance money was no longer necessary to + keep his wife from starving. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said he; “faith is a great quality; and how I have lacked it!” + </p> + <p> + To do him justice, he knew his wife's excitable nature, and was not + without fears of some disaster, should the news be communicated to her + unskilfully. + </p> + <p> + But this proposal of Falcon's made the way clearer. Mrs. Falcon, though + not a lady, had all a lady's delicacy, and all a woman's tact and + tenderness. He knew no one in the world more fit to be trusted with the + delicate task of breaking to his Rosa that the grave, for once, was + baffled, and her husband lived. He now became quite anxious for Falcon's + departure, and ardently hoped that worthy had not deceived himself as to + Mrs. Falcon's desire to visit England. + </p> + <p> + In short, it was settled that Falcon should start for Dale's Kloof, taking + with him the diamonds, believed to be worth altogether three thousand + pounds at Cape Town, and nearly as much again in England, and a long + letter to Mrs. Falcon, in which Staines revealed his true story, told her + where to find his wife, or hear of her, viz., at Kent Villa, Gravesend, + and sketched an outline of instructions as to the way, and cunning + degrees, by which the joyful news should be broken to her. With this he + sent a long letter to be given to Rosa herself, but not till she should + know all: and in this letter he enclosed the ruby ring she had given him. + That ring had never left his finger, by sea or land, in sickness or + health. + </p> + <p> + The letter to Rosa was sealed. The two letters made quite a packet; for, + in the letter to his beloved Rosa, he told her everything that had + befallen him. It was a romance, and a picture of love; a letter to lift a + loving woman to heaven, and almost reconcile her to all her bereaved heart + had suffered. + </p> + <p> + This letter, written with many tears from the heart that had so suffered, + and was now softened by good fortune and bounding with joy, Staines + entrusted to Falcon, together with the other diamonds, and with many warm + shakings of the hand, started him on his way. + </p> + <p> + “But mind, Falcon,” said Christopher, “I shall expect an answer from Mrs. + Falcon in twenty days at farthest. I do not feel so sure as you do that + she wants to go to England; and, if not, I must write to Uncle Philip. + Give me your solemn promise, old fellow, an answer in twenty days—if + you have to send a Kafir on horseback.” + </p> + <p> + “I give you my honor,” said Falcon superbly. + </p> + <p> + “Send it to me at Bulteel's Farm.” + </p> + <p> + “All right. 'Dr. Christie, Bulteel's Farm.'” + </p> + <p> + “Well—no. Why should I conceal my real name any longer from such + friends as you and your wife? Christie is short for Christopher—that + IS my Christian name; but my surname is Staines. Write to 'Dr. Staines.'” + </p> + <p> + “Dr. Staines!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Did you ever hear of me?” + </p> + <p> + Falcon wore a strange look. “I almost think I have. Down at Gravesend, or + somewhere.” + </p> + <p> + “That is curious. Yes, I married my Rosa there; poor thing! God bless her; + God comfort her. She thinks me dead.” + </p> + <p> + His voice trembled, he grasped Falcon's cold hand till the latter winced + again, and so they parted, and Falcon rode off muttering, “Dr. Staines! so + then YOU are Dr. Staines.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII. + </h2> + <p> + Rosa Staines had youth on her side, and it is an old saying that youth + will not be denied. Youth struggled with death for her, and won the + battle. + </p> + <p> + But she came out of that terrible fight weak as a child. The sweet pale + face, the widow's cap, the suit of deep black—it was long ere these + came down from the sickroom. And when they did, oh, the dead blank! The + weary, listless life! The days spent in sighs, and tears, and desolation. + Solitude! solitude! Her husband was gone, and a strange woman played the + mother to her child before her eyes. + </p> + <p> + Uncle Philip was devotedly kind to her, and so was her father; but they + could do nothing for her. + </p> + <p> + Months rolled on, and skinned the wound over. Months could not heal. Her + boy became dearer and dearer, and it was from him came the first real + drops of comfort, however feeble. + </p> + <p> + She used to read her lost one's diary every day, and worship, in deep + sorrow, the mind she had scarcely respected until it was too late. She + searched in his diary to find his will, and often she mourned that he had + written on it so few things she could obey. Her desire to obey the dead, + whom, living, she had often disobeyed, was really simple and touching. She + would mourn to her father that there were so few commands to her in his + diary. “But,” said she, “memory brings me back his will in many things, + and to obey is now the only sad comfort I have.” + </p> + <p> + It was in this spirit she now forced herself to keep accounts. No fear of + her wearing stays now; no powder; no trimmings; no waste. + </p> + <p> + After the usual delay, her father told her she should instruct a solicitor + to apply to the insurance company for the six thousand pounds. She refused + with a burst of agony. “The price of his life,” she screamed. “Never! I'd + live on bread and water sooner than touch that vile money.” + </p> + <p> + Her father remonstrated gently. But she was immovable. “No. It would be + like consenting to his death.” + </p> + <p> + Then Uncle Philip was sent for. + </p> + <p> + He set her child on her knee; and gave her a pen. “Come,” said he, + sternly, “be a woman, and do your duty to little Christie.” + </p> + <p> + She kissed the boy, cried, and did her duty meekly. But when the money was + brought her, she flew to Uncle Philip, and said, “There! there!” and threw + it all before him, and cried as if her heart would break. He waited + patiently, and asked her what he was to do with all that: invest it? + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes; for my little Christie.” + </p> + <p> + “And pay you the interest quarterly.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, no. Dribble us out a little as we want it. That is the way to be + truly kind to a simpleton. I hate that word.” + </p> + <p> + “And suppose I run off with it? Such confiding geese as you corrupt a + man.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall never corrupt you. Crusty people are the soul of honor.” + </p> + <p> + “Crusty people!” cried Philip, affecting amazement. “What are they?” + </p> + <p> + She bit her lip and colored a little; but answered adroitly, “They are + people that pretend not to have good hearts, but have the best in the + world; far better ones than your smooth ones: that's crusty people.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said Philip; “and I'll tell you what simpletons are. They are + little transparent-looking creatures that look shallow, but are as deep as + Old Nick, and make you love them in spite of your judgment. They are the + most artful of their sex; for they always achieve its great object, to be + loved—the very thing that clever women sometimes fail in.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, and if we are not to be loved, why live at all—such useless + things as I am?” said Rosa simply. + </p> + <p> + So Philip took charge of her money, and agreed to help her save money for + her little Christopher. Poverty should never destroy him, as it had his + father. + </p> + <p> + As months rolled on, she crept out into public a little; but always on + foot, and a very little way from home. + </p> + <p> + Youth and sober life gradually restored her strength, but not her color, + nor her buoyancy. + </p> + <p> + Yet she was perhaps more beautiful than ever; for a holy sorrow chastened + and sublimed her features: it was now a sweet, angelic, pensive beauty, + that interested every feeling person at a glance. + </p> + <p> + She would visit no one; but a twelvemonth after her bereavement, she + received a few chosen visitors. + </p> + <p> + One day a young gentleman called, and sent up his card, “Lord Tadcaster,” + with a note from Lady Cicely Treherne, full of kindly feeling. Uncle + Philip had reconciled her to Lady Cicely; but they had never met. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Staines was much agitated at the very name of Lord Tadcaster; but she + would not have missed seeing him for the world. + </p> + <p> + She received him with her beautiful eyes wide open, to drink in every + lineament of one who had seen the last of her Christopher. + </p> + <p> + Tadcaster was wonderfully improved: he had grown six inches out at sea, + and though still short, was not diminutive; he was a small Apollo, a model + of symmetry, and had an engaging, girlish beauty, redeemed from downright + effeminacy by a golden mustache like silk, and a tanned cheek that became + him wonderfully. + </p> + <p> + He seemed dazzled at first by Mrs. Staines, but murmured that Lady Cicely + had told him to come, or he would not have ventured. + </p> + <p> + “Who can be so welcome to me as you?” said she, and the tears came thick + in her eyes directly. + </p> + <p> + Soon, he hardly knew how, he found himself talking of Staines, and telling + her what a favorite he was, and all the clever things he had done. + </p> + <p> + The tears streamed down her cheeks, but she begged him to go on telling + her, and omit nothing. + </p> + <p> + He complied heartily, and was even so moved by the telling of his friend's + virtues, and her tears and sobs, that he mingled his tears with hers. She + rewarded him by giving him her hand as she turned away her tearful face to + indulge the fresh burst of grief his sympathy evoked. + </p> + <p> + When he was leaving, she said, in her simple way, “Bless you”—“Come + again,” she said: “you have done a poor widow good.” + </p> + <p> + Lord Tadcaster was so interested and charmed, he would gladly have come + back next day to see her; but he restrained that extravagance, and waited + a week. + </p> + <p> + Then he visited her again. He had observed the villa was not rich in + flowers, and he took her down a magnificent bouquet, cut from his father's + hot-houses. At sight of him, or at sight of it, or both, the color rose + for once in her pale cheek, and her pensive face wore a sweet expression + of satisfaction. She took his flowers, and thanked him for them, and for + coming to see her. + </p> + <p> + Soon they got on the only topic she cared for, and, in the course of this + second conversation, he took her into his confidence, and told her he owed + everything to Dr. Staines. “I was on the wrong road altogether, and he put + me right. To tell you the truth, I used to disobey him now and then, while + he was alive, and I was always the worse for it; now he is gone, I never + disobey him. I have written down a lot of wise, kind things he said to me, + and I never go against any one of them. I call it my book of oracles. Dear + me, I might have brought it with me.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes! why didn't you?” rather reproachfully. + </p> + <p> + “I will bring it next time.” + </p> + <p> + “Pray do.” + </p> + <p> + Then she looked at him with her lovely swimming eyes, and said tenderly, + “And so here is another that disobeyed him living, but obeys him dead. + What will you think when I tell you that I, his wife, who now worship him + when it is too late, often thwarted and vexed him when he was alive?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no. He told me you were an angel, and I believe it.” + </p> + <p> + “An angel! a good-for-nothing, foolish woman, who sees everything too + late.” + </p> + <p> + “Nobody else should say so before me,” said the little gentleman grandly. + “I shall take HIS word before yours on this one subject. If ever there was + an angel, you are one; and oh, what would I give if I could but say or do + anything in the world to comfort you!” + </p> + <p> + “You can do nothing for ME, dear, but come and see me often, and talk to + me as you do—on the one sad theme my broken heart has room for.” + </p> + <p> + This invitation delighted Lord Tadcaster, and the sweet word “dear,” from + her lovely lips, entered his heart, and ran through all his veins like + some rapturous but dangerous elixir. He did not say to himself, “She is a + widow with a child, feels old with grief, and looks on me as a boy who has + been kind to her.” Such prudence and wariness were hardly to be expected + from his age. He had admired her at first sight, very nearly loved her at + their first interview, and now this sweet word opened a heavenly vista. + The generous heart that beat in his small frame burned to console her with + a life-long devotion and all the sweet offices of love. + </p> + <p> + He ordered his yacht to Gravesend—for he had become a sailor—and + then he called on Mrs. Staines, and told her, with a sort of sheepish + cunning, that now, as his yacht HAPPENED to be at Gravesend, he could come + and see her very often. He watched her timidly, to see how she would take + that proposition. + </p> + <p> + She said, with the utmost simplicity, “I'm very glad of it.” + </p> + <p> + Then he produced his oracles; and she devoured them. Such precepts to + Tadcaster as she could apply to her own case she instantly noted in her + memory, and they became her law from that moment. + </p> + <p> + Then, in her simplicity, she said, “And I will show you some things, in + his own handwriting, that may be good for you; but I can't show you the + whole book: some of it is sacred from every eye but his wife's. His + wife's? Ah me! his widow's.” + </p> + <p> + Then she pointed out passages in the diary that she thought might be for + his good; and he nestled to her side, and followed her white finger with + loving eyes, and was in an elysium—which she would certainly have + put a stop to at that time, had she divined it. But all wisdom does not + come at once to an unguarded woman. Rosa Staines was wiser about her + husband than she had been, but she had plenty to learn. + </p> + <p> + Lord Tadcaster anchored off Gravesend, and visited Mrs. Staines nearly + every day. She received him with a pleasure that was not at all lively, + but quite undisguised. He could not doubt his welcome; for once, when he + came, she said to the servant, “Not at home,” a plain proof she did not + wish his visit to be cut short by any one else. + </p> + <p> + And so these visits and devoted attentions of every kind went on + unobserved by Lord Tadcaster's friends, because Rosa would never go out, + even with him; but at last Mr. Lusignan saw plainly how this would end, + unless he interfered. + </p> + <p> + Well, he did not interfere; on the contrary, he was careful to avoid + putting his daughter on her guard: he said to himself, “Lord Tadcaster + does her good. I'm afraid she would not marry him, if he was to ask her + now; but in time she might. She likes him a great deal better than any one + else.” + </p> + <p> + As for Philip, he was abroad for his own health, somewhat impaired by his + long and faithful attendance on Rosa. + </p> + <p> + So now Lord Tadcaster was in constant attendance on Rosa. She was languid, + but gentle and kind; and, as mourners, like invalids, are apt to be + egotistical, she saw nothing but that he was a comfort to her in her + affliction. + </p> + <p> + While matters were so, the Earl of Miltshire, who had long been sinking, + died, and Tadcaster succeeded to his honors and estates. + </p> + <p> + Rosa heard of it, and, thinking it was a great bereavement, wrote him one + of those exquisite letters of condolence a lady alone can write. He took + it to Lady Cicely, and showed it her. She highly approved it. + </p> + <p> + He said, “The only thing—it makes me ashamed, I do not feel my poor + father's death more; but you know it has been so long expected.” Then he + was silent a long time; and then he asked her if such a woman as that + would not make him happy, if he could win her. + </p> + <p> + It was on her ladyship's tongue to say, “She did not make her first + happy;” but she forbore, and said coldly, that was maw than she could say. + </p> + <p> + Tadcaster seemed disappointed by that, and by and by Cicely took herself + to task. She asked herself what were Tadcaster's chances in the lottery of + wives. The heavy army of scheming mothers, and the light cavalry of artful + daughters, rose before her cousinly and disinterested eyes, and she asked + herself what chance poor little Tadcaster would have of catching a true + love, with a hundred female artists manoeuvring, wheeling, ambuscading, + and charging upon his wealth and titles. She returned to the subject of + her own accord, and told him she saw but one objection to such a match: + the lady had a son by a man of rare merit and misfortune. Could he, at his + age, undertake to be a father to that son? “Othahwise,” said Lady Cicely, + “mark my words, you will quall over that poor child; and you will have two + to quall with, because I shall be on her side.” + </p> + <p> + Tadcaster declared to her that child should be quite the opposite of a + bone of contention. “I have thought of that,” said he, “and I mean to be + so kind to that boy, I shall MAKE her love me for that.” + </p> + <p> + On these terms Lady Cicely gave her consent. + </p> + <p> + Then he asked her should he write, or ask her in person. + </p> + <p> + Lady Cicely reflected. “If you write, I think she will say no.” + </p> + <p> + “But if I go?” + </p> + <p> + “Then, it will depend on how you do it. Rosa Staines is a true mourner. + Whatever you may think, I don't believe the idea of a second union has + ever entered her head. But then she is very unselfish: and she likes you + better than any one else, I dare say. I don't think your title or your + money will weigh with her now. But, if you show her your happiness depends + on it, she may, perhaps, cwy and sob at the very idea of it, and then, + after all, say, 'Well, why not—if I can make the poor soul happy?'” + </p> + <p> + So, on this advice, Tadcaster went down to Gravesend, and Lady Cicely felt + a certain self-satisfaction; for, her well-meant interference having lost + Rosa one husband, she was pleased to think she had done something to give + her another. + </p> + <p> + Lord Tadcaster came to Rosa Staines; he found her seated with her head + upon her white hand, thinking sadly of the past. + </p> + <p> + At sight of him in deep mourning, she started, and said, “Oh!” + </p> + <p> + Then she said tenderly, “We are of one color now,” and gave him her hand. + </p> + <p> + He sat down beside her, not knowing how to begin. + </p> + <p> + “I am not Tadcaster now. I am Earl of Miltshire.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes; I forgot,” said she indifferently. + </p> + <p> + “This is my first visit to any one in that character.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you.” + </p> + <p> + “It is an awfully important visit to me. I could not feel myself + independent, and able to secure your comfort and little Christie's, + without coming to the lady, the only lady I ever saw, that—oh, Mrs. + Staines—Rosa—who could see you, as I have done—mingle + his tears with yours, as I have done, and not love you, and long to offer + you his love?” + </p> + <p> + “Love! to me, a broken-hearted woman, with nothing to live for but his + memory and his child.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him with a sort of scared amazement. + </p> + <p> + “His child shall be mine. His memory is almost as dear to me as to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense, child, nonsense!” said she, almost sternly. + </p> + <p> + “Was he not my best friend? Should I have the health I enjoy, or even be + alive, but for him? Oh, Mrs. Staines—Rosa, you will not live all + your life unmarried; and who will love you as I do? You are my first and + only love. My happiness depends on you.” + </p> + <p> + “Your happiness depend on me! Heaven forbid—a woman of my age, that + feels so old, old, old.” + </p> + <p> + “You are not old; you are young, and sad, and beautiful, and my happiness + depends on you.” She began to tremble a little. Then he kneeled at her + knees, and implored her, and his hot tears fell upon the hand she put out + to stop him, while she turned her head away, and the tears began to run. + </p> + <p> + Oh! never can the cold dissecting pen tell what rushes over the heart that + has loved and lost, when another true love first kneels and implores for + love, or pity, or anything the bereaved can give. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIII. + </h2> + <p> + When Falcon went, luck seemed to desert their claim: day after day went by + without a find; and the discoveries on every side made this the more + mortifying. + </p> + <p> + By this time the diggers at Bulteel's pan were as miscellaneous as the + audience at Drury Lane Theatre, only mixed more closely; the gallery folk + and the stalls worked cheek by jowl. Here a gentleman with an affected + lisp, and close by an honest fellow, who could not deliver a sentence + without an oath, or some still more horrible expletive that meant nothing + at all in reality, but served to make respectable flesh creep: + interspersed with these, Hottentots, Kafirs, and wild blue blacks gayly + clad in an ostrich feather, a scarlet ribbon, and a Tower musket sold them + by some good Christian for a modern rifle. + </p> + <p> + On one side of Staines were two swells, who lay on their backs and talked + opera half the day, but seldom condescended to work without finding a + diamond of some sort. + </p> + <p> + After a week's deplorable luck, his Kafir boy struck work on account of a + sore in his leg; the sore was due to a very common cause, the burning sand + had got into a scratch, and festered. Staines, out of humanity, examined + the sore; and proceeding to clean it, before bandaging, out popped a + diamond worth forty pounds, even in the depreciated market. Staines + quietly pocketed it, and bandaged the leg. This made him suspect his + blacks had been cheating him on a large scale, and he borrowed Hans + Bulteel to watch them, giving him a third, with which Master Hans was + mightily pleased. But they could only find small diamonds, and by this + time prodigious slices of luck were reported on every side. Kafirs and + Boers that would not dig, but traversed large tracts of ground when the + sun was shining, stumbled over diamonds. One Boer pointed to a wagon and + eight oxen, and said that one lucky glance on the sand had given him that + lot: but day after day Staines returned home, covered with dust, and + almost blinded, yet with little or nothing to show for it. + </p> + <p> + One evening, complaining of his change of luck, Bulteel quietly proposed + to him migration. “I am going,” said he resignedly: “and you can come with + me.” + </p> + <p> + “You leave your farm, sir? Why, they pay you ten shillings a claim, and + that must make a large return; the pan is fifteen acres.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, mine vriend,” said the poor Hollander, “they pay; but deir money it + cost too dear. Vere is mine peace? Dis farm is six tousand acres. If de + cursed diamonds was farther off, den it vas vell. But dey are too near. + Once I could smoke in peace, and zleep. Now diamonds is come, and zleep + and peace is fled. Dere is four tousand tents, and to each tent a dawg; + dat dawg bark at four tousand other dawgs all night, and dey bark at him + and at each oder. Den de masters of de dawgs dey get angry, and fire four + tousand pistole at de four tousand dawgs, and make my bed shake wid the + trembling of mine vrow. My vamily is with diamonds infected. Dey vill not + vork. Dey takes long valks, and always looks on de ground. Mine childre + shall be hump-backed, round-shouldered, looking down for diamonds. Dey + shall forget Gott. He is on high: dere eyes are always on de earth. De + diggers found a diamond in mine plaster of mine wall of mine house. Dat + plaster vas limestone; it come from dose kopjes de good Gott made in His + anger against man for his vickedness. I zay so. Dey not believe me. Dey + tink dem abominable stones grow in mine house, and break out in mine + plaster like de measle: dey vaunt to dig in mine wall, in mine garden, in + mine floor. One day dey shall dig in mine body. I vill go. Better I love + peace dan money. Here is English company make me offer for mine varm. Dey + forgive de diamonds.” + </p> + <p> + “You have not accepted it?” cried Staines in alarm. + </p> + <p> + “No, but I vill. I have said I shall tink of it. Dat is my vay. So I say + yah.” + </p> + <p> + “An English company? They will cheat you without mercy. No, they shall + not, though, for I will have a hand in the bargain.” + </p> + <p> + He set to work directly, added up the value of the claims, at ten + shillings per month, and amazed the poor Hollander by his statement of the + value of those fifteen acres, capitalized. + </p> + <p> + And to close this part of the subject, the obnoxious diamonds obtained him + three times as much as his father had given for the whole six thousand + acres. + </p> + <p> + The company got a great bargain, but Bulteel received what for him was a + large capital, and settling far to the south, this lineal descendant of le + philosophe sans savoir carried his godliness, his cleanliness, and his + love of peace, out of the turmoil, and was happier than ever, since now he + could compare his placid existence with one year of noise and clamor. + </p> + <p> + But long before this, events more pertinent to my story had occurred. + </p> + <p> + One day, a Hottentot came into Bulteel's farm and went out among the + diggers, till he found Staines. The Hottentot was one employed at Dale's + Kloof, and knew him. He brought Staines a letter. + </p> + <p> + Staines opened the letter, and another letter fell out; it was directed to + “Reginald Falcon, Esq.” + </p> + <p> + “Why,” thought Staines, “what a time this letter must have been on the + road! So much for private messengers.” + </p> + <p> + The letter ran thus:— + </p> + <p> + DEAR SIR,—This leaves us all well at Dale's Kloof, as I hope it + shall find you and my dear husband at the diggings. Sir, I am happy to say + I have good news for you. When you got well by God's mercy, I wrote to the + doctor at the hospital and told him so. I wrote unbeknown to you, because + I had promised him. Well, sir, he has written back to say you have two + hundred pounds in money, and a great many valuable things, such as gold + and jewels. They are all at the old bank in Cape Town, and the cashier has + seen you, and will deliver them on demand. So that is the first of my good + news, because it is good news to you. But, dear sir, I think you will be + pleased to hear that Dick and I are thriving wonderfully, thanks to your + good advice. The wooden house it is built, and a great oven. But, sir, the + traffic came almost before we were ready, and the miners that call here, + coming and going, every day, you would not believe, likewise wagons and + carts. It is all bustle, morn till night, and dear Reginald will never be + dull here now; I hope you will be so kind as tell him so, for I do long to + see you both home again. + </p> + <p> + Sir, we are making our fortunes. The grain we could not sell at a fair + price, we sell as bread, and higher than in England ever so much. Tea and + coffee the same; and the poor things praise us, too, for being so + moderate. So, sir, Dick bids me say that we owe this to you, and if so be + you are minded to share, why nothing would please us better. Head-piece is + always worth money in these parts; and if it hurts your pride to be our + partner without money, why you can throw in what you have at the Cape, + though we don't ask that. And, besides, we are offered diamonds a bargain + every day, but are afraid to deal, for want of experience; but if you were + in it with us, you must know them well by this time, and we might turn + many a good pound that way. Dear sir, I hope you will not be offended, but + I think this is the only way we have, Dick and I, to show our respect and + good-will. + </p> + <p> + Dear sir, digging is hard work, and not fit for you and Reginald, that are + gentlemen, amongst a lot of rough fellows, that their talk makes my hair + stand on end, though I dare say they mean no harm. + </p> + <p> + Your bedroom is always ready, sir. I never will let it to any of them, + hoping now to see you every day. You that know everything, can guess how I + long to see you both home. My very good fortune seems not to taste like + good fortune, without those I love and esteem to share it. I shall count + how many days this letter will take to reach you, and then I shall pray + for your safety harder than ever, till the blessed hour comes when I see + my husband, and my good friend, never to part again, I hope, in this + world. + </p> + <p> + I am sir, your dutiful servant and friend, + </p> + <p> + PHOEBE DALE. + </p> + <p> + P.S. There is regular travelling to and from Cape Town, and a post now to + Pniel, but I thought it surest to send by one that knows you. + </p> + <p> + Staines read this letter with great satisfaction. He remembered his two + hundred pounds, but his gold and jewels puzzled him. Still it was good + news, and pleased him not a little. Phoebe's good fortune gratified him + too, and her offer of a partnership, especially in the purchase of + diamonds from returning diggers. He saw a large fortune to be made; and + wearied and disgusted with recent ill-luck, blear-eyed and almost blinded + with sorting in the blazing sun, he resolved to go at once to Dale's + Kloof. Should Mrs. Falcon be gone to England with the diamonds, he would + stay there, and Rosa should come out to him, or he would go and fetch her. + </p> + <p> + He went home, and washed himself, and told Bulteel he had had good news, + and should leave the diggings at once. He gave him up the claim, and told + him to sell it by auction. It was worth two hundred pounds still. The good + people sympathized with him, and he started within an hour. He left his + pickaxe and shovel, and took only his double rifle, an admirable one, some + ammunition, including conical bullets and projectile shells given him by + Falcon, a bag full of carbuncles and garnets he had collected for + Ucatella, a few small diamonds, and one hundred pounds,—all that + remained to him, since he had been paying wages and other things for + months, and had given Falcon twenty for his journey. + </p> + <p> + He rode away and soon put twenty miles between him and the diggings. + </p> + <p> + He came to a little store that bought diamonds and sold groceries and + tobacco. He haltered his horse to a hook, and went in. He offered a small + diamond for sale. The master was out, and the assistant said there was a + glut of these small stones, he did not care to give money for it. + </p> + <p> + “Well, give me three dozen cigars.” + </p> + <p> + While they were chaffering, in walked a Hottentot, and said, “Will you buy + this?” and laid a clear, glittering stone on the counter, as large as a + walnut. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the young man. “How much?” + </p> + <p> + “Two hundred pounds.” + </p> + <p> + “Two hundred pounds! Let us look at it;” he examined it, and said he + thought it was a diamond, but these large stones were so deceitful, he + dared not give two hundred pounds. “Come again in an hour,” said he, “then + the master will be in.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the Hottentot quietly, and walked out. + </p> + <p> + Staines, who had been literally perspiring at the sight of this stone, + mounted his horse and followed the man. When he came up to him, he asked + leave to examine the gem. The Hottentot quietly assented. + </p> + <p> + Staines looked at it all over. It had a rough side and a polished side, + and the latter was of amazing softness and lustre. It made him tremble. He + said, “Look here, I have only one hundred pounds in my pocket.” + </p> + <p> + The Hottentot shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “But if you will go back with me to Bulteel's farm, I'll borrow the other + hundred.” + </p> + <p> + The Hottentot declined, and told him he could get four hundred pounds for + it by going back to Pniel. “But,” said he, “my face is turned so; and when + Squat turn his face so, he going home. Not can bear go the other way + then,” and he held out his hand for the diamond. + </p> + <p> + Staines gave it him, and was in despair at seeing such a prize so near, + yet leaving him. + </p> + <p> + He made one more effort. “Well, but,” said he, “how far are you going this + way?” + </p> + <p> + “Ten days.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, so am I. Come with me to Dale's Kloof, and I will give the other + hundred. See, I am in earnest, for here is one hundred, at all events.” + </p> + <p> + Staines made this proposal, trembling with excitement. To his surprise and + joy, the Hottentot assented, though with an air of indifference; and on + these terms they became fellow-travellers, and Staines gave him a cigar. + They went on side by side, and halted for the night forty miles from + Bulteel's farm. + </p> + <p> + They slept in a Boer's out-house, and the vrow was civil, and lent Staines + a jackal's skin. In the morning he bought it for a diamond, a carbuncle, + and a score of garnets; for a horrible thought had occurred to him, if + they stopped at any place where miners were, somebody might buy the great + diamond over his head. This fear, and others, grew on him, and with all + his philosophy he went on thorns, and was the slave of the diamond. + </p> + <p> + He resolved to keep his Hottentot all to himself if possible. He shot a + springbok that crossed the road, and they roasted a portion of the animal, + and the Hottentot carried some on with him. + </p> + <p> + Seeing he admired the rifle, Staines offered it him for the odd hundred + pounds; but though Squat's eye glittered a moment, he declined. + </p> + <p> + Finding that they met too many diggers and carts, Staines asked his + Hottentot was there no nearer way to reach that star, pointing to one he + knew was just over Dale's Kloof. + </p> + <p> + Oh, yes, he knew a nearer way, where there were trees, and shade, and + grass, and many beasts to shoot. + </p> + <p> + “Let us take that way,” said Staines. + </p> + <p> + The Hottentot, ductile as wax, except about the price of the diamond, + assented calmly; and next day they diverged, and got into forest scenery, + and their eyes were soothed with green glades here and there, wherever the + clumps of trees sheltered the grass from the panting sun. Animals + abounded, and were tame. Staines, an excellent marksman, shot the + Hottentot his supper without any trouble. + </p> + <p> + Sleeping in the wood, with not a creature near but Squat, a sombre thought + struck Staines. Suppose this Hottentot should assassinate him for his + money, who would ever know? The thought was horrible, and he awoke with a + start ten times that night. The Hottentot slept like a stone, and never + feared for his own life and precious booty. Staines was compelled to own + to himself he had less faith in human goodness than the savage had. He + said to himself, “He is my superior. He is the master of this dreadful + diamond, and I am its slave.” + </p> + <p> + Next day they went on till noon, and then they halted at a really + delightful spot; a silver kloof ran along a bottom, and there was a little + clump of three acacia-trees that lowered their long tresses, pining for + the stream, and sometimes getting a cool grateful kiss from it when the + water was high. + </p> + <p> + They halted the horse, bathed in the stream, and lay luxurious under the + acacias. All was delicious languor and enjoyment of life. + </p> + <p> + The Hottentot made a fire, and burnt the remains of a little sort of + kangaroo Staines had shot him the evening before; but it did not suffice + his maw, and looking about him, he saw three elands leisurely feeding + about three hundred yards off. They were cropping the rich herbage close + to the shelter of a wood. + </p> + <p> + The Hottentot suggested that this was an excellent opportunity. He would + borrow Staines's rifle, steal into the wood, crawl on his belly close up + to them, and send a bullet through one. + </p> + <p> + Staines did not relish the proposal. He had seen the savage's eye + repeatedly gloat on the rifle, and was not without hopes he might even yet + relent, and give the great diamond for the hundred pounds and this rifle; + and he was so demoralized by the diamond, and filled with suspicion, that + he feared the savage, if he once had the rifle in his possession, might + levant, and be seen no more, in which case he, Staines, still the slave of + the diamond, might hang himself on the nearest tree, and so secure his + Rosa the insurance money, at all events. In short, he had really diamond + on the brain. + </p> + <p> + He hem'd and haw'd a little at Squat's proposal, and then got out of it by + saying, “That is not necessary. I can shoot it from here.” + </p> + <p> + “It is too far,” objected Blacky. + </p> + <p> + “Too far! This is an Enfield rifle. I could kill the poor beast at three + times that distance.” + </p> + <p> + Blacky was amazed. “An Enfield rifle,” said he, in the soft musical murmur + of his tribe, which is the one charm of the poor Hottentot; “and shoot + three times SO far.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Christopher. Then, seeing his companion's hesitation, he + conceived a hope. “If I kill that eland from here, will you give me the + diamond for my horse and the wonderful rifle?—no Hottentot has such + a rifle.” + </p> + <p> + Squat became cold directly. “The price of the diamond is two hundred + pounds.” + </p> + <p> + Staines groaned with disappointment, and thought to himself with rage, + “Anybody but me would club the rifle, give the obstinate black brute a + stunner, and take the diamond—God forgive me!” + </p> + <p> + Says the Hottentot cunningly, “I can't think so far as white man. Let me + see the eland dead, and then I shall know how far the rifle shoot.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” said Staines. But he felt sure the savage only wanted his + meal, and would never part with the diamond, except for the odd money. + </p> + <p> + However, he loaded his left barrel with one of the explosive projectiles + Falcon had given him; it was a little fulminating shell with a steel + point. It was with this barrel he had shot the murcat overnight, and he + had found he shot better with this barrel than the other. He loaded his + left barrel then, saw the powder well up, capped it and cut away a strip + of the acacia with his knife to see clear, and lying down in volunteer + fashion, elbow on ground, drew his bead steadily on an eland who presented + him her broadside, her back being turned to the wood. The sun shone on her + soft coat, and never was a fairer mark, the sportsman's deadly eye being + in the cool shade, the animal in the sun. + </p> + <p> + He aimed long and steadily. But just as he was about to pull the trigger, + Mind interposed, and he lowered the deadly weapon. “Poor creature!” he + said, “I am going to take her life—for what? for a single meal. She + is as big as a pony; and I am to lay her carcass on the plain, that we may + eat two pounds of it. This is how the weasel kills the rabbit; sucks an + ounce of blood for his food, and wastes the rest. So the demoralized + sheep-dog tears out the poor creature's kidneys, and wastes the rest. Man, + armed by science with such powers of slaying, should be less egotistical + than weasels and perverted sheep-dogs. I will not kill her. I will not lay + that beautiful body of hers low, and glaze those tender, loving eyes that + never gleamed with hate or rage at man, and fix those innocent jaws that + never bit the life out of anything, not even of the grass she feeds on, + and does it more good than harm. Feed on, poor innocent. And you be + blanked; you and your diamond, that I begin to wish I had never seen; for + it would corrupt an angel.” + </p> + <p> + Squat understood one word in ten, but he managed to reply. “This is + nonsense-talk,” said he, gravely. “The life is no bigger in that than in + the murcat you shot last shoot.” + </p> + <p> + “No more it is,” said Staines. “I am a fool. It is come to this, then; + Kafirs teach us theology, and Hottentots morality. I bow to my + intellectual superior. I'll shoot the eland.” He raised his rifle again. + </p> + <p> + “No, no, no, no, no, no,” murmured the Hottentot, in a sweet voice + scarcely audible, yet so keen in its entreaty, that Staines turned hastily + round to look at him. His face was ashy, his teeth chattering, his limbs + shaking. Before Staines could ask him what was the matter, he pointed + through an aperture of the acacias into the wood hard by the elands. + Staines looked, and saw what seemed to him like a very long dog, or some + such animal, crawling from tree to tree. He did not at all share the + terror of his companion, nor understand it. But a terrible explanation + followed. This creature, having got to the skirt of the wood, expanded, by + some strange magic, to an incredible size, and sprang into the open, with + a growl, a mighty lion; he seemed to ricochet from the ground, so immense + was his second bound, that carried him to the eland, and he struck her one + blow on the head with his terrible paw, and felled her as if with a + thunderbolt: down went her body, with all the legs doubled, and her poor + head turned over, and the nose kissed the ground. The lion stood + motionless. Presently the eland, who was not dead, but stunned, began to + recover and struggle feebly up. Then the lion sprang on her with a roar, + and rolled her over, and with two tremendous bites and a shake, tore her + entrails out and laid her dying. He sat composedly down, and contemplated + her last convulsions, without touching her again. + </p> + <p> + At this roar, though not loud, the horse, though he had never heard or + seen a lion, trembled, and pulled at his halter. + </p> + <p> + Blacky crept into the water; and Staines was struck with such an awe as he + had never felt. Nevertheless, the king of beasts being at a distance, and + occupied, and Staines a brave man, and out of sight, he kept his ground + and watched, and by those means saw a sight never to be forgotten. The + lion rose up, and stood in the sun incredibly beautiful as well as + terrible. He was not the mangy hue of the caged lion, but a skin tawny, + golden, glossy as a race-horse, and of exquisite tint that shone like pure + gold in the sun; his eye a lustrous jewel of richest hue, and his mane + sublime. He looked towards the wood, and uttered a full roar. This was so + tremendous that the horse shook all over as if in an ague, and began to + lather. Staines recoiled, and his flesh crept, and the Hottentot went + under water, and did not emerge for ever so long. + </p> + <p> + After a pause, the lion roared again, and all the beasts and birds of prey + seemed to know the meaning of that terrible roar. Till then the place had + been a solitude, but now it began to fill in the strangest way, as if the + lord of the forest could call all his subjects together with a trumpet + roar: first came two lion cubs, to whom, in fact, the roar had been + addressed. The lion rubbed himself several times against the eland, but + did not eat a morsel, and the cubs went in and feasted on the prey. The + lion politely and paternally drew back, and watched the young people + enjoying themselves. + </p> + <p> + Meantime approached, on tiptoe, jackals and hyenas, but dared not come too + near. Slate-colored vultures settled at a little distance, but not a soul + dared interfere with the cubs; they saw the lion was acting sentinel, and + they knew better than come near. + </p> + <p> + After a time, papa feared for the digestion of those brats, or else his + own mouth watered; for he came up, knocked them head over heels with his + velvet paw, and they took the gentle hint, and ran into the wood double + quick. + </p> + <p> + Then the lion began tearing away at the eland, and bolting huge morsels + greedily. This made the rabble's mouth water. The hyenas, and jackals, and + vultures formed a circle ludicrous to behold, and that circle kept + narrowing as the lion tore away at his prey. They increased in number, and + at last hunger overcame prudence; the rear rank shoved on the front, as + amongst men, and a general attack seemed imminent. + </p> + <p> + Then the lion looked up at these invaders, uttered a reproachful growl, + and went at them, patting them right and left, and knocking them over. He + never touched a vulture, nor indeed did he kill an animal. He was a lion, + and only killed to eat; yet he soon cleared the place, because he knocked + over a few hyenas and jackals, and the rest, being active, tumbled over + the vultures before they could spread their heavy wings. After this + warning, they made a respectful circle again, through which, in due + course, the gorged lion stalked into the wood. + </p> + <p> + A savage's sentiments change quickly, and the Hottentot, fearing little + from a full lion, was now giggling at Staines's side. Staines asked him + which he thought was the lord of all creatures, a man or a lion. + </p> + <p> + “A lion,” said Blacky, amazed at such a shallow question. + </p> + <p> + Staines now got up, and proposed to continue their journey. But Blacky was + for waiting till the lion was gone to sleep after his meal. + </p> + <p> + While they discussed the question, the lion burst out of the wood within + hearing of their voices, as his pricked-up ears showed, and made straight + for them at a distance of scarcely thirty yards. + </p> + <p> + Now, the chances are, the lion knew nothing about them, and only came to + drink at the kloof, after his meal, and perhaps lie under the acacias: but + who can think calmly, when his first lion bursts out on him a few paces + off? Staines shouldered his rifle, took a hasty, flurried aim, and sent a + bullet at him. + </p> + <p> + If he had missed him, perhaps the report might have turned the lion; but + he wounded him, and not mortally. Instantly the enraged beast uttered a + terrific roar, and came at him with his mane distended with rage, his eyes + glaring, his mouth open, and his whole body dilated with fury. + </p> + <p> + At that terrible moment, Staines recovered his wits enough to see that + what little chance he had was to fire into the destroyer, not at him. He + kneeled, and levelled at the centre of the lion's chest, and not till he + was within five yards did he fire. Through the smoke he saw the lion in + the air above him, and rolled shrieking into the stream and crawled like a + worm under the bank, by one motion, and there lay trembling. A few seconds + of sick stupor passed: all was silent. Had the lion lost him? Was it + possible he might yet escape? + </p> + <p> + All was silent. + </p> + <p> + He listened, in agony, for the sniffing of the lion, puzzling him out by + scent. + </p> + <p> + No: all was silent. + </p> + <p> + Staines looked round, and saw a woolly head, and two saucer eyes and open + nostrils close by him. It was the Hottentot, more dead than alive. + </p> + <p> + Staines whispered him, “I think he is gone.” + </p> + <p> + The Hottentot whispered, “Gone a little way to watch. He is wise as well + as strong.” With this he disappeared beneath the water. + </p> + <p> + Still no sound but the screaming of the vultures, and snarling of the + hyenas and jackals over the eland. + </p> + <p> + “Take a look,” said Staines. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Squat; “but not to-day. Wait here a day or two. Den he forget + and forgive.” + </p> + <p> + Now Staines, having seen the lion lie down and watch the dying eland, was + a great deal impressed by this; and as he had now good hopes of saving his + life, he would not throw away a chance. He kept his head just above water, + and never moved. + </p> + <p> + In this freezing situation they remained. + </p> + <p> + Presently there was a rustling that made both crouch. + </p> + <p> + It was followed by a croaking noise. + </p> + <p> + Christopher made himself small. + </p> + <p> + The Hottentot, on the contrary, raised his head, and ventured a little way + into the stream. + </p> + <p> + By these means he saw it was something very foul, but not terrible. It was + a large vulture that had settled on the very top of the nearest acacia. + </p> + <p> + At this the Hottentot got bolder still, and to the great surprise of + Staines began to crawl cautiously into some rushes, and through them up + the bank. + </p> + <p> + The next moment he burst into a mixture of yelling and chirping and + singing, and other sounds so manifestly jubilant, that the vulture flapped + heavily away, and Staines emerged in turn, but very cautiously. + </p> + <p> + Could he believe his eyes? There lay the lion, dead as a stone, on his + back, with his four legs in the air, like wooden legs, they were so very + dead: and the valiant Squat, dancing about him, and on him, and over him. + </p> + <p> + Staines, unable to change his sentiments so quickly, eyed even the dead + body of the royal beast with awe and wonder. What! had he already laid + that terrible monarch low, and with a tube made in a London shop by men + who never saw a lion spring, nor heard his awful roar shake the air? He + stood with his heart still beating, and said not a word. The shallow + Hottentot whipped out a large knife, and began to skin the king of beasts. + Staines wondered he could so profane that masterpiece of nature. He felt + more inclined to thank God for so great a preservation, and then pass + reverently on, and leave the dead king undesecrated. + </p> + <p> + He was roused from his solemn thoughts by the reflection that there might + be a lioness about, since there were cubs: he took a piece of paper, + emptied his remaining powder into it, and proceeded to dry it in the sun. + This was soon done, and then he loaded both barrels. + </p> + <p> + By this time the adroit Hottentot had flayed the carcass sufficiently to + reveal the mortal injury. The projectile had entered the chest, and + slanting upwards, had burst among the vitals, reducing them to a gory + pulp. The lion must have died in the air, when he bounded on receiving the + fatal shot. + </p> + <p> + The Hottentot uttered a cry of admiration. “Not the lion king of all, nor + even the white man,” he said; “but Enfeel rifle!” + </p> + <p> + Staines's eyes glittered. “You shall have it, and the horse, for your + diamond,” said he eagerly. + </p> + <p> + The black seemed a little shaken; but did not reply. He got out of it by + going on with his lion; and Staines eyed him, and was bitterly + disappointed at not getting the diamond even on these terms. He began to + feel he should never get it: they were near the high-road; he could not + keep the Hottentot to himself much longer. He felt sick at heart. He had + wild and wicked thoughts; half hoped the lioness would come and kill the + Hottentot, and liberate the jewel that possessed his soul. + </p> + <p> + At last the skin was off, and the Hottentot said, “Me take this to my + kraal, and dey all say, 'Squat a great shooter; kill um lion.'” + </p> + <p> + Then Staines saw another chance for him, and summoned all his address for + a last effort. “No, Squat,” said he, “that skin belongs to me. I shot the + lion, with the only rifle that can kill a lion like a cat. Yet you would + not give me a diamond—a paltry stone for it. No, Squat, if you were + to go into your village with that lion's skin, why the old men would bend + their heads to you, and say, 'Great is Squat! He killed the lion, and + wears his skin.' The young women would all fight which should be the wife + of Squat. Squat would be king of the village.” + </p> + <p> + Squat's eyes began to roll. + </p> + <p> + “And shall I give the skin, and the glory that is my due, to an + ill-natured fellow, who refuses me his paltry diamond for a good horse—look + at him—and for the rifle that kills lions like rabbits—behold + it; and a hundred pounds in good gold and Dutch notes—see; and for + the lion's skin, and glory, and honor, and a rich wife, and to be king of + Africa? Never!” + </p> + <p> + The Hottentot's hands and toes began to work convulsively. “Good master, + Squat ask pardon. Squat was blind. Squat will give the diamond, the great + diamond of Africa, for the lion's skin, and the king rifle, and the little + horse, and the gold, and Dutch notes every one of them. Dat make just two + hundred pounds.” + </p> + <p> + “More like four hundred,” cried Staines very loud. “And how do I know it + is a diamond? These large stones are the most deceitful. Show it me, this + instant,” said he imperiously. + </p> + <p> + “Iss, master,” said the crushed Hottentot, with the voice of a mouse, and + put the stone into his hand with a child-like faith that almost melted + Staines; but he saw he must be firm. “Where did you find it?” he bawled. + </p> + <p> + “Master,” said poor Squat, in deprecating tones, “my little master at the + farm wanted plaster. He send to Bulteel's pan; dere was large lumps. Squat + say to miners, 'May we take de large lumps? Dey say, 'Yes; take de cursed + lumps we no can break.' We took de cursed lumps. We ride 'em in de cart to + farm twenty milses. I beat 'em with my hammer. Dey is very hard. More dey + break my heart dan I break their cursed heads. One day I use strong words, + like white man, and I hit one large lump too hard; he break, and out come + de white clear stone. Iss, him diamond. Long time we know him in our + kraal, because he hard. Long time before ever white man know him, tousand + years ago, we find him, and he make us lilly hole in big stone for make + wheat dust. Him a diamond, blank my eyes!” + </p> + <p> + This was intended as a solemn form of asseveration adapted to the white + man's habits. + </p> + <p> + Yes, reader, he told the truth; and strange to say, the miners knew the + largest stones were in these great lumps of carbonate, but then the lumps + were so cruelly hard, they lost all patience with them, and so, finding it + was no use to break some of them, and not all, they rejected them all, + with curses; and thus this great stone was carted away as rubbish from the + mine, and found, like a toad in a hole, by Squat. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Christopher, “after all, you are an honest fellow, and I + think I will buy it; but first you must show me out of this wood; I am not + going to be eaten alive in it for want of the king of rifles.” + </p> + <p> + Squat assented eagerly, and they started at once. They passed the skeleton + of the eland; its very bones were polished, and its head carried into the + wood; and looking back they saw vultures busy on the lion. They soon + cleared the wood. + </p> + <p> + Squat handed Staines the diamond—when it touched his hand, as his + own, a bolt of ice seemed to run down his back, and hot water to follow it—and + the money, horse, rifle, and skin were made over to Squat. + </p> + <p> + “Shake hands over it, Squat,” said Staines; “you are hard, but you are + honest.” + </p> + <p> + “Iss, master, I a good much hard and honest,” said Squat. + </p> + <p> + “Good-by, old fellow.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-by, master.” + </p> + <p> + And Squat strutted away, with the halter in his hand, horse following him, + rifle under his arm, and the lion's skin over his shoulders, and the tail + trailing, a figure sublime in his own eyes, ridiculous in creation's. So + vanity triumphed, even in the wilds of Africa. + </p> + <p> + Staines hurried forward on foot, loading his revolver as he went, for the + very vicinity of the wood alarmed him now that he had parted with his + trusty rifle. + </p> + <p> + That night he lay down on the open veldt, in his jackal's skin, with no + weapon but his revolver, and woke with a start a dozen times. Just before + daybreak he scanned the stars carefully, and noting exactly where the sun + rose, made a rough guess at his course, and followed it till the sun was + too hot; then he crept under a ragged bush, hung up his jackal's skin, and + sweated there, parched with thirst, and gnawed with hunger. When it was + cooler, he crept on, and found water, but no food. He was in torture, and + began to be frightened, for he was in a desert. He found an ostrich egg + and ate it ravenously. + </p> + <p> + Next day, hunger took a new form, faintness. He could not walk for it; his + jackal's skin oppressed him; he lay down exhausted. A horror seized his + dejected soul. The diamond! It would be his death. No man must so long for + any earthly thing as he had for this glittering traitor. “Oh! my good + horse! my trusty rifle!” he cried. “For what have I thrown you away? For + starvation. Misers have been found stretched over their gold; and some day + my skeleton will be found, and nothing to tell the base death I died of + and deserved; nothing but the cursed diamond. Ay, fiend, glare in my eyes, + do!” He felt delirium creeping over him; and at that a new terror froze + him. His reason, that he had lost once, was he to lose it again? He + prayed; he wept; he dozed, and forgot all. When he woke again, a cool air + was fanning his cheeks; it revived him a little; it became almost a + breeze. + </p> + <p> + And this breeze, as it happened, carried on its wings the curse of Africa. + There loomed in the north-west a cloud of singular density, that seemed to + expand in size as it drew nearer, yet to be still more solid, and darken + the air. It seemed a dust-storm. Staines took out his handkerchief, + prepared to wrap his face in it, not to be stifled. + </p> + <p> + But soon there was a whirring and a whizzing, and hundreds of locusts flew + over his head; they were followed by thousands, the swiftest of the mighty + host. They thickened and thickened, till the air looked solid, and even + that glaring sun was blackened by the rushing mass. Birds of all sorts + whirled above, and swooped among them. They peppered Staines all over like + shot. They stuck in his beard, and all over him; they clogged the bushes, + carpeted the ground, while the darkened air sang as with the whirl of + machinery. Every bird in the air, and beast of the field, granivorous or + carnivorous, was gorged with them; and to these animals was added man, for + Staines, being famished, and remembering the vrow Bulteel, lighted a fire, + and roasted a handful or two on a flat stone; they were delicious. The + fire once lighted, they cooked themselves, for they kept flying into it. + Three hours, without interruption, did they darken nature, and, before the + column ceased, all the beasts of the field came after, gorging them so + recklessly, that Staines could have shot an antelope dead with his pistol + within a yard of him. + </p> + <p> + But to tell the horrible truth, the cooked locusts were so nice that he + preferred to gorge on them along with the other animals. + </p> + <p> + He roasted another lot, for future use, and marched on with a good heart. + </p> + <p> + But now he got on some rough, scrubby ground, and damaged his shoes, and + tore his trousers. + </p> + <p> + This lasted a terrible distance; but at the end of it came the usual arid + ground; and at last he came upon the track of wheels and hoofs. He struck + it at an acute angle, and that showed him he had made a good line. He + limped along it a little way, slowly, being footsore. + </p> + <p> + By and by, looking back, he saw a lot of rough fellows swaggering along + behind him. Then he was alarmed, terribly alarmed, for his diamond; he + tore a strip of his handkerchief, and tied the stone cunningly under his + armpit as he hobbled on. + </p> + <p> + The men came up with him. + </p> + <p> + “Hallo, mate! Come from the diggings?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “What luck?” + </p> + <p> + “Very good.” + </p> + <p> + “Haw! haw! What! found a fifty-carat? Show it us.” + </p> + <p> + “We found five big stones, my mate and me. He is gone to Cape Town to sell + them. I had no luck when he had left me, so I have cut it; going to turn + farmer. Can you tell me how far it is to Dale's Kloof?” + </p> + <p> + No, they could not tell him that. They swung on; and, to Staines, their + backs were a cordial, as we say in Scotland. + </p> + <p> + However, his travels were near an end. Next morning he saw Dale's Kloof in + the distance; and as soon as the heat moderated, he pushed on, with one + shoe and tattered trousers; and half an hour before sunset he hobbled up + to the place. + </p> + <p> + It was all bustle. Travellers at the door; their wagons and carts under a + long shed. + </p> + <p> + Ucatella was the first to see him coming, and came and fawned on him with + delight. Her eyes glistened, her teeth gleamed. She patted both his + cheeks, and then his shoulders, and even his knees, and then flew in-doors + crying, “My doctor child is come home!” This amused three travellers, and + brought out Dick, with a hearty welcome. + </p> + <p> + “But Lordsake, sir, why have you come afoot; and a rough road too? Look at + your shoes. Hallo! What is come of the horse?” + </p> + <p> + “I exchanged him for a diamond.” + </p> + <p> + “The deuce you did! And the rifle?” + </p> + <p> + “Exchanged that for the same diamond.” + </p> + <p> + “It ought to be a big 'un.” + </p> + <p> + “It is.” + </p> + <p> + Dick made a wry face. “Well, sir, you know best. You are welcome, on horse + or afoot. You are just in time; Phoebe and me are just sitting down to + dinner.” + </p> + <p> + He took him into a little room they had built for their own privacy, for + they liked to be quiet now and then, being country bred; and Phoebe was + putting their dinner on the table, when Staines limped in. + </p> + <p> + She gave a joyful cry, and turned red all over. “Oh, doctor!” Then his + travel-torn appearance struck her. “But, dear heart! what a figure! + Where's Reginald? Oh, he's not far off, I know.” + </p> + <p> + And she flung open the window, and almost flew through it in a moment, to + look for her husband. + </p> + <p> + “Reginald?” said Staines. Then turning to Dick Dale, “Why, he is here—isn't + he?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir: not without he is just come with you.” + </p> + <p> + “With me?—no. You know we parted at the diggings. Come, Mr. Dale, he + may not be here now; but he has been here. He must have been here.” + </p> + <p> + Phoebe, who had not lost a word, turned round, with all her high color + gone, and her cheeks getting paler and paler. “Oh, Dick! what is this?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't understand it,” said Dick. “Whatever made you think he was here, + sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I tell you he left me to come here.” + </p> + <p> + “Left you, sir!” faltered Phoebe. “Why, when?—where?” + </p> + <p> + “At the diggings—ever so long ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Blank him! that is just like him; the uneasy fool!” roared Dick. + </p> + <p> + “No, Mr. Dale, you should not say that; he left me, with my consent, to + come to Mrs. Falcon here, and consult her about disposing of our + diamonds.” + </p> + <p> + “Diamonds!—diamonds!” cried Phoebe. “Oh, they make me tremble. How + COULD you let him go alone! You didn't let HIM go on foot, I hope?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, Mrs. Falcon; he had his horse, and his rifle, and money to spend + on the road.” + </p> + <p> + “How long ago did he leave you, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “I—I am sorry to say it was five weeks ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Five weeks! and not come yet. Ah! the wild beasts!—the diggers!—the + murderers! He is dead!” + </p> + <p> + “God forbid!” faltered Staines; but his own blood began to run cold. + </p> + <p> + “He is dead. He has died between this and the dreadful diamonds. I shall + never see my darling again: he is dead. He is dead.” + </p> + <p> + She rushed out of the room, and out of the house, throwing her arms above + her head in despair, and uttering those words of agony again and again in + every variety of anguish. + </p> + <p> + At such horrible moments women always swoon—if we are to believe the + dramatists. I doubt if there is one grain of truth in this. Women seldom + swoon at all, unless their bodies are unhealthy, or weakened by the + reaction that follows so terrible a shock as this. At all events, Phoebe, + at first, was strong and wild as a lion, and went to and fro outside the + house, unconscious of her body's motion, frenzied with agony, and but one + word on her lips, “He is dead!—he is dead!” + </p> + <p> + Dick followed her, crying like a child, but master of himself; he got his + people about her, and half carried her in again; then shut the door in all + their faces. + </p> + <p> + He got the poor creature to sit down, and she began to rock and moan, with + her apron over her head, and her brown hair loose about her. + </p> + <p> + “Why should he be dead?” said Dick. “Don't give a man up like that, + Phoebe. Doctor, tell us more about it. Oh, man, how could you let him out + of your sight? You knew how fond the poor creature was of him.” + </p> + <p> + “But that was it, Mr. Dale,” said Staines. “I knew his wife must pine for + him; and we had found six large diamonds, and a handful of small ones; but + the market was glutted; and to get a better price, he wanted to go + straight to Cape Town. But I said, 'No; go and show them to your wife, and + see whether she will go to Cape Town.'” + </p> + <p> + Phoebe began to listen, as was evident by her moaning more softly. + </p> + <p> + “Might he not have gone straight to Cape Town?” Staines hazarded this + timidly. + </p> + <p> + “Why should he do that, sir? Dale's Kloof is on the road.” + </p> + <p> + “Only on one road. Mr. Dale, he was well armed, with rifle and revolver; + and I cautioned him not to show a diamond on the road. Who would molest + him? Diamonds don't show, like gold. Who was to know he had three thousand + pounds hidden under his armpits, and in two barrels of his revolver?” + </p> + <p> + “Three thousand pounds!” cried Dale. “You trusted HIM with three thousand + pounds?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly. They were worth about three thousand pounds in Cape Town, and + half as much again in”— + </p> + <p> + Phoebe started up in a moment. “Thank God!” she cried. “There's hope for + me. Oh, Dick, he is not dead: HE HAS ONLY DESERTED ME.” + </p> + <p> + And with these strange and pitiable words, she fell to sobbing as if her + great heart would burst at last. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIV. + </h2> + <p> + There came a reaction, and Phoebe was prostrated with grief and alarm. Her + brother never doubted now that Reginald had run to Cape Town for a lark. + But Phoebe, though she thought so too, could not be sure; and so the + double agony of bereavement and desertion tortured her by turns, and + almost together. For the first time these many years, she was so crushed + she could not go about her business, but lay on a little sofa in her own + room, and had the blinds down, for her head ached so she could not bear + the light. + </p> + <p> + She conceived a bitter resentment against Staines; and told Dick never to + let him into her sight, if he did not want to be her death. + </p> + <p> + In vain Dick made excuses for him: she would hear none. For once she was + as unreasonable as any other living woman: she could see nothing but that + she had been happy, after years of misery, and should be happy now if this + man had never entered her house. “Ah, Collie!” she cried, “you were wiser + than I was. You as good as told me he would make me smart for lodging and + curing him. And I was SO happy!” + </p> + <p> + Dale communicated this as delicately as he could to Staines. Christopher + was deeply grieved and wounded. He thought it unjust, but he knew it was + natural: he said, humbly, “I feel guilty myself, Mr. Dale; and yet, unless + I had possessed omniscience, what could I do? I thought of her in all—poor + thing! poor thing!” + </p> + <p> + The tears were in his eyes, and Dick Dale went away scratching his head + and thinking it over. The more he thought, the less he was inclined to + condemn him. + </p> + <p> + Staines himself was much troubled in mind, and lived on thorns. He wanted + to be off to England; grudged every day, every hour, he spent in Africa. + But Mrs. Falcon was his benefactress; he had been, for months and months, + garnering up a heap of gratitude towards her. He had not the heart to + leave her bad friends, and in misery. He kept hoping Falcon would return, + or write. + </p> + <p> + Two days after his return, he was seated, disconsolate, gluing garnets and + carbuncles on to a broad tapering bit of lambskin, when Ucatella came to + him and said, “My doctor child sick?” + </p> + <p> + “No, not sick: but miserable.” And he explained to her, as well as he + could, what had passed. “But,” said he, “I would not mind the loss of the + diamonds now, if I was only sure he was alive. I think most of poor, poor + Mrs. Falcon.” + </p> + <p> + While Ucatella pondered this, but with one eye of demure curiosity on the + coronet he was making, he told her it was for her—he had not forgot + her at the mines. + </p> + <p> + “These stones,” said he, “are not valued there; but see how glorious they + are!” + </p> + <p> + In a few minutes he had finished the coronet, and gave it her. She uttered + a chuckle of delight, and with instinctive art, bound it, in a turn of her + hand, about her brow; and then Staines himself was struck dumb with + amazement. The carbuncles gathered from those mines look like rubies, so + full of fire are they, and of enormous size. The chaplet had twelve great + carbuncles in the centre, and went off by gradations into smaller garnets + by the thousand. They flashed their blood-red flames in the African sun, + and the head of Ucatella, grand before, became the head of the Sphinx, + encircled with a coronet of fire. She bestowed a look of rapturous + gratitude on Staines, and then glided away, like the stately Juno, to + admire herself in the nearest glass like any other coquette, black, brown, + yellow, copper, or white. + </p> + <p> + That very day, towards sunset, she burst upon Staines quite suddenly, with + her coronet gleaming on her magnificent head, and her eyes like coals of + fire, and under her magnificent arm, hard as a rock, a boy kicking and + struggling in vain. She was furiously excited, and, for the first time, + showed signs of the savage in the whites of her eyes, which seemed to turn + the glorious pupils into semicircles. She clutched Staines by the shoulder + with her left hand, and swept along with the pair, like dark Fate, or as + potent justice sweeps away a pair of culprits, and carried them to the + little window, and cried “Open—open!” + </p> + <p> + Dick Dale was at dinner; Phoebe lying down. Dick got up, rather crossly, + and threw open the window. “What is up now?” said he crossly: he was like + two or three more Englishmen—hated to be bothered at dinner-time. + </p> + <p> + “Dar,” screamed Ucatella, setting down Tim, but holding him tight by the + shoulder; “now you tell what you see that night, you lilly Kafir trash; if + you not tell, I kill you DEAD;” and she showed the whites of her eyes, + like a wild beast. + </p> + <p> + Tim, thoroughly alarmed, quivered out that he had seen lilly master ride + up to the gate one bright night, and look in, and Tim thought he was going + in: but he changed his mind, and galloped away that way; and the monkey + pointed south. + </p> + <p> + “And why couldn't you tell us this before?” questioned Dick. + </p> + <p> + “Me mind de sheep,” said Tim apologetically. “Me not mind de lilly master: + jackals not eat him.” + </p> + <p> + “You no more sense dan a sheep yourself,” said Ucatella loftily. + </p> + <p> + “No, no: God bless you both,” cried poor Phoebe: “now I know the worst:” + and a great burst of tears relieved her suffering heart. + </p> + <p> + Dick went out softly. When he got outside the door, he drew them all + apart, and said, “Yuke, you ARE a good-hearted girl. I'll never forget + this while I live; and, Tim, there's a shilling for thee; but don't you go + and spend it in Cape smoke; that is poison to whites, and destruction to + blacks.” + </p> + <p> + “No, master,” said Tim. “I shall buy much bread, and make my tomach tiff;” + then, with a glance of reproach at the domestic caterer, Ucatella, “I + almost never have my tomach tiff.” + </p> + <p> + Dick left his sister alone an hour or two, to have her cry out. + </p> + <p> + When he went back to her there was a change: the brave woman no longer lay + prostrate. She went about her business; only she was always either crying + or drowning her tears. + </p> + <p> + He brought Dr. Staines in. Phoebe instantly turned her back on him with a + shudder there was no mistaking. + </p> + <p> + “I had better go,” said Staines. “Mrs. Falcon will never forgive me.” + </p> + <p> + “She will have to quarrel with me else,” said Dick steadily. “Sit you + down, doctor. Honest folk like you and me and Phoebe wasn't made to + quarrel for want of looking a thing all round. My sister she hasn't looked + it all round, and I have. Come, Pheeb, 'tis no use your blinding yourself. + How was the poor doctor to know your husband is a blackguard?” + </p> + <p> + “He is not a blackguard. How dare you say that to my face?” + </p> + <p> + “He is a blackguard, and always was. And now he is a thief to boot. He has + stolen those diamonds; you know that very well.” + </p> + <p> + “Gently, Mr. Dale; you forget: they are as much his as mine.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, and if half a sheep is mine, and I take the whole and sell him, and + keep the money, what is that but stealing? Why, I wonder at you, Pheeb. + You was always honest yourself, and yet you see the doctor robbed by your + man, and that does not trouble you. What has he done to deserve it? He has + been a good friend to us. He has put us on the road. We did little more + than keep the pot boiling before he came—well, yes, we stored grain; + but whose advice has turned that grain to gold, I might say? Well, what's + his offence? He trusted the diamonds to your man, and sent him to you. Is + he the first honest man that has trusted a rogue? How was he to know? + Likely he judged the husband by the wife. Answer me one thing, Pheeb. If + he makes away with fifteen hundred pounds that is his, or partly yours—for + he has eaten your bread ever since I knew him—and fifteen hundred + more that is the doctor's, where shall we find fifteen hundred pounds, all + in a moment, to pay the doctor back his own?” + </p> + <p> + “My honest friend,” said Staines, “you are tormenting yourself with + shadows. I don't believe Mr. Falcon will wrong me of a shilling; and, if + he does, I shall quietly repay myself out of the big diamond. Yes, my dear + friends, I did not throw away your horse, nor your rifle, nor your money: + I gave them all, and the lion's skin—I gave them all—for + this.” + </p> + <p> + And he laid the big diamond on the table. + </p> + <p> + It was as big as a walnut, and of the purest water. + </p> + <p> + Dick Dale glanced at it stupidly. Phoebe turned her back on it, with a cry + of horror, and then came slowly round by degrees; and her eyes were + fascinated by the royal gem. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Staines sadly, “I had to strip myself of all to buy it, and, + when I had got it, how proud I was, and how happy I thought we should all + be over it, for it is half yours, half mine. Yes, Mr. Dale, there lies six + thousand pounds that belong to Mrs. Falcon.” + </p> + <p> + “Six thousand pounds!” cried Dick. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sure of it. And so, if your suspicions are correct, and poor Falcon + should yield to a sudden temptation, and spend all that money, I shall + just coolly deduct it from your share of this wonderful stone: so make + your mind easy. But no; if Falcon is really so wicked as to desert his + happy home, and so mad as to spend thousands in a month or two, let us go + and save him.” + </p> + <p> + “That is my business,” said Phoebe. “I am going in the mail-cart + to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you won't go alone,” said Dick. + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Falcon,” said Staines imploringly, “let me go with you.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, sir. My brother can take care of me.” + </p> + <p> + “Me! You had better not take me. If I catch hold of him, by —- I'll + break his neck, or his back, or his leg, or something; he'll never run + away from you again, if I lay hands on him,” replied Dick. + </p> + <p> + “I'll go alone. You are both against me.” + </p> + <p> + “No, Mrs. Falcon; I am not,” said Staines. “My heart bleeds for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you demean yourself, praying her,” said Dick. “It's a public + conveyance: you have no need to ask HER leave.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true: I can't hinder folk from going to Cape Town the same day,” + said Phoebe sullenly. + </p> + <p> + “If I might presume to advise, I would take little Tommy.” + </p> + <p> + “What! all that road? Do you want me to lose my child, as well as my man?” + </p> + <p> + “O Mrs. Falcon!” + </p> + <p> + “Don't speak to her, doctor, to get your nose snapped off. Give her time. + She'll come to her senses before she dies.” + </p> + <p> + Next day Mrs. Falcon and Staines started for Cape Town. Staines paid her + every attention, when opportunity offered. But she was sullen and gloomy, + and held no converse with him. + </p> + <p> + He landed her at an inn, and then told her he would go at once to the + jeweller's. He asked her piteously would she lend him a pound or two to + prosecute his researches. She took out her purse, without a word, and lent + him two pounds. + </p> + <p> + He began to scour the town: the jewellers he visited could tell him + nothing. At last he came to a shop, and there he found Mrs. Falcon making + her inquiries independently. She said coldly, “You had better come with + me, and get your money and things.” + </p> + <p> + She took him to the bank—it happened to be the one she did business + with—and said, “This is Dr. Christie, come for his money and + jewels.” + </p> + <p> + There was some demur at this; but the cashier recognized him, and Phoebe + making herself responsible, the money and jewels were handed over. + </p> + <p> + Staines whispered Phoebe, “Are you sure the jewels are mine?” + </p> + <p> + “They were found on you, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Staines took them, looking confused. He did not know what to think. When + they got into the street again, he told her it was very kind of her to + think of his interest at all. + </p> + <p> + No answer: she was not going to make friends with him over such a trifle + as that. + </p> + <p> + By degrees, however, Christopher's zeal on her behalf broke the ice; and + besides, as the search proved unavailing, she needed sympathy; and he gave + it her, and did not abuse her husband as Dick Dale did. + </p> + <p> + One day, in the street, after a long thought, she said to him, “Didn't you + say, sir, you gave him a letter for me?” + </p> + <p> + “I gave him two letters; one of them was to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Could you remember what you said in it?” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly. I begged you, if you should go to England, to break the truth + to my wife. She is very excitable; and sudden joy has killed ere now. I + gave you particular instructions.” + </p> + <p> + “And you were very wise. But whatever could make you think I would go to + England?” + </p> + <p> + “He told me you only wanted an excuse.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!!” + </p> + <p> + “When he told me that, I caught at it, of course. It was all the world to + me to get my Rosa told by such a kind, good, sensible friend as you; and, + Mrs. Falcon, I had no scruple about troubling you, because I knew the + stones would sell for at least a thousand pounds more in England than + here, and that would pay your expenses.” + </p> + <p> + “I see, sir; I see. 'Twas very natural: you love your wife.” + </p> + <p> + “Better than my life.” + </p> + <p> + “And he told you I only wanted an excuse to go to England?” + </p> + <p> + “He did, indeed. It was not true?” + </p> + <p> + “It was anything but true. I had suffered so in England; I had been so + happy here: too happy to last. Ah! well, it is all over. Let us think of + the matter in hand. Sure that was not the only letter you gave my husband? + Didn't you write to HER?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I did; but that was enclosed to you, and not to be given to her + until you had broken the joyful news to her. Yes, Mrs. Falcon, I wrote and + told her everything: my loss at sea; how I was saved, after, by your + kindness. Our journeys, from Cape Town, and then to the diggings; my + sudden good fortune, my hopes, my joy—O my poor Rosa! and now I + suppose she will never get it. It is too cruel of him. I shall go home by + the next steamer. I CAN'T stay here any longer, for you or anybody. Oh, + and I enclosed my ruby ring that she gave me, for I thought she might not + believe you without that.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me think,” said Phoebe, turning ashy pale. “For mercy's sake, let me + think! + </p> + <p> + “He has read both those letters, sir. + </p> + <p> + “She will never see hers: any more than I shall see mine.” + </p> + <p> + She paused again, thinking harder and harder. + </p> + <p> + “We must take two places in the next mail steamer. I must look after my + husband, AND YOU AFTER YOUR WIFE.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXV. + </h2> + <p> + Mrs. Falcon's bitter feeling against Dr. Staines did not subside; it + merely went out of sight a little. They were thrown together by potent + circumstances, and in a manner connected by mutual obligations; so an open + rupture seemed too unnatural. Still Phoebe was a woman, and, blinded by + her love for her husband, could not forgive the innocent cause of their + present unhappy separation; though the fault lay entirely with Falcon. + </p> + <p> + Staines took her on board the steamer, and paid her every attention. She + was also civil to him; but it was a cold and constrained civility. + </p> + <p> + About a hundred miles from land the steamer stopped, and the passengers + soon learned there was something wrong with her machinery. In fact, after + due consultation, the captain decided to put back. + </p> + <p> + This irritated and distressed Mrs. Falcon so that the captain, desirous to + oblige her, hailed a fast schooner, that tacked across her bows, and gave + Mrs. Falcon the option of going back with him, or going on in the + schooner, with whose skipper he was acquainted. + </p> + <p> + Staines advised her on no account to trust to sails, when she could have + steam with only a delay of four or five days; but she said, “Anything + sooner than go back. I can't, I can't on such an errand.” + </p> + <p> + Accordingly she was put on board the schooner, and Staines, after some + hesitation, felt bound to accompany her. + </p> + <p> + It proved a sad error. Contrary winds assailed them the very next day, and + with such severity that they had repeatedly to lie to. + </p> + <p> + On one of these occasions, with a ship reeling under them like a restive + horse, and the waves running mountains high, poor Phoebe's terrors + overmastered both her hostility and her reserve. “Doctor,” said she, “I + believe 'tis God's will we shall never see England. I must try and die + more like a Christian than I have lived, forgiving all who have wronged + me, and you, that have been my good friend and my worst enemy, but you did + not mean it. Sir, what has turned me against you so—your wife was my + husband's sweetheart before he married me.” + </p> + <p> + “My wife your husband's—you are dreaming.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, sir, once she came to my shop, and I saw directly I was nothing to + him, and he owned it all to me; he had courted her, and she jilted him; so + he said. Why should he tell me a lie about that? I'd lay my life 'tis + true. And now you have sent him to her your own self; and, at sight of + her, I shall be nothing again. Well, when this ship goes down, they can + marry, and I hope he will be happy, happier than I can make him, that + tried my best, God knows.” + </p> + <p> + This conversation surprised Staines not a little. However, he said, with + great warmth, it was false. His wife had danced and flirted with some + young gentleman at one time, when there was a brief misunderstanding + between him and her, but sweetheart she had never had, except him. He + courted her fresh from school. “Now, my good soul,” said he, “make your + mind easy; the ship is a good one, and well handled, and in no danger + whatever, and my wife is in no danger from your husband. Since you and + your brother tell me that he is a villain, I am bound to believe you. But + my wife is an angel. In our miserable hour of parting, she vowed not to + marry again, should I be taken from her. Marry again! what am I talking + of? Why, if he visits her at all, it will be to let her know I am alive, + and give her my letter. Do you mean to tell me she will listen to vows of + love from him, when her whole heart is in rapture for me? Such nonsense!” + </p> + <p> + This burst of his did not affront her, and did not comfort her. + </p> + <p> + At last the wind abated; and after a wearisome calm, a light breeze came, + and the schooner crept homeward. + </p> + <p> + Phoebe restrained herself for several days; but at last she came back to + the subject; this time it was in an apologetic tone at starting. “I know + you think me a foolish woman,” she said; “but my poor Reginald could never + resist a pretty face; and she is so lovely; and you should have seen how + he turned when she came in to my place. Oh, sir, there has been more + between them than you know of; and when I think that he will have been in + England so many months before we get there, oh, doctor, sometimes I feel + as I should go mad; my head it is like a furnace, and see, my brow is all + wrinkled again.” + </p> + <p> + Then Staines tried to comfort her; assured her she was tormenting herself + idly; her husband would perhaps have spent some of the diamond money on + his amusement; but what if he had? he should deduct it out of the big + diamond, which was also their joint property, and the loss would hardly be + felt. “As to my wife, madam, I have but one anxiety; lest he should go + blurting it out that I am alive, and almost kill her with joy.” + </p> + <p> + “He will not do that, sir. He is no fool.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad of it; for there is nothing else to fear.” + </p> + <p> + “Man, I tell you there is everything to fear. You don't know him as I do; + nor his power over women.” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Falcon, are you bent on affronting me?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir; Heaven forbid!” + </p> + <p> + “Then please to close this subject forever. In three weeks we shall be in + England.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay; but he has been there six months.” + </p> + <p> + He bowed stiffly to her, went to his cabin, and avoided the poor foolish + woman as much as he could without seeming too unkind. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVI. + </h2> + <p> + Mrs. Staines made one or two movements—to stop Lord Tadcaster—with + her hand, that expressive feature with which, at such times, a sensitive + woman can do all but speak. + </p> + <p> + When at last he paused for her reply, she said, “Me marry again! Oh! for + shame!” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Staines—Rosa—you will marry again, some day.” + </p> + <p> + “Never. Me take another husband, after such a man as I have lost! I should + be a monster. Oh, Lord Tadcaster, you have been so kind to me; so + sympathizing. You made me believe you loved my Christopher, too; and now + you have spoiled all. It is too cruel.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Mrs. Staines, do you think me capable of feigning—don't you see + my love for you has taken you by surprise? But how could I visit you—look + on you—hear you—mingle my regrets with yours; yours were the + deepest, of course; but mine were honest.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe it.” And she gave him her hand. He held it, and kissed it, and + cried over it, as the young will, and implored her, on his knees, not to + condemn herself to life-long widowhood, and him to despair. + </p> + <p> + Then she cried, too; but she was firm; and by degrees she made him see + that her heart was inaccessible. + </p> + <p> + Then at last he submitted with tearful eyes, but a valiant heart. + </p> + <p> + She offered friendship timidly. + </p> + <p> + But he was too much of a man to fall into that trap. “No,” he said: “I + could not, I could not. Love or nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “You are right,” said she, pityingly. “Forgive me. In my selfishness and + my usual folly, I did not see this coming on, or I would have spared you + this mortification.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind that,” gulped the little earl. “I shall always be proud I knew + you, and proud I loved you, and offered you my hand.” + </p> + <p> + Then the magnanimous little fellow blessed her, and left her, and + discontinued his visits. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Lusignan found her crying, and got the truth out of her. He was in + despair. He remonstrated kindly, but firmly. Truth compels me to say that + she politely ignored him. He observed that phenomenon, and said, “Very + well then, I shall telegraph for Uncle Philip.” + </p> + <p> + “Do,” said the rebel. “He is always welcome.” + </p> + <p> + Philip, telegraphed, came down that evening; likewise his little black + bag. He found them in the drawing-room: papa with the Pall Mall Gazette, + Rosa seated, sewing, at a lamp. She made little Christie's clothes + herself,—fancy that! + </p> + <p> + Having ascertained that the little boy was well, Philip, adroitly hiding + that he had come down torn with anxiety on that head, inquired with a show + of contemptuous indifference, whose cat was dead. + </p> + <p> + “Nobody's,” said Lusignan crossly. Then he turned and pointed the Gazette + at his offspring. “Do you see that young lady stitching there so + demurely?” + </p> + <p> + Philip carefully wiped and then put on his spectacles. + </p> + <p> + “I see her,” said he. “She does look a little too innocent. None of them + are really so innocent as all that. Has she been swearing at the nurse, + and boxing her ears?” + </p> + <p> + “Worse than that. She has been and refused the Earl of Tadcaster.” + </p> + <p> + “Refused him—what! has that little monkey had the audacity?” + </p> + <p> + “The condescension, you mean. Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “And she has refused him?” + </p> + <p> + “And twenty thousand a year.” + </p> + <p> + “What immorality!” + </p> + <p> + “Worse. What absurdity!” + </p> + <p> + “How is it to be accounted for? Is it the old story? 'I could never love + him.' No; that's inadequate; for they all love a title and twenty thousand + a year.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa sewed on all this time in demure and absolute silence. + </p> + <p> + “She ignores us,” said Philip. “It is intolerable. She does not appreciate + our politeness in talking at her. Let us arraign her before our sacred + tribunal, and have her into court. Now, mistress, the Senate of Venice is + assembled, and you must be pleased to tell us why you refused a title and + twenty thousand a year, with a small but symmetrical earl tacked on.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa laid down her work, and said quietly, “Uncle, almost the last words + that passed between me and my Christopher, we promised each other solemnly + never to marry again till death should us part. You know how deep my + sorrow has been that I can find so few wishes of my lost Christopher to + obey. Well, to-day I have had an opportunity at last. I have obeyed my own + lost one; it has cost me a tear or two; but, for all that, it has given me + one little gleam of happiness. Ah, foolish woman, that obeys too late!” + </p> + <p> + And with this the tears began to run. + </p> + <p> + All this seemed a little too high-flown to Mr. Lusignan. “There,” said he, + “see on what a straw her mind turns. So, but for that, you would have done + the right thing, and married the earl?” + </p> + <p> + “I dare say I should—at the time—to stop his crying.” + </p> + <p> + And with this listless remark she quietly took up her sewing again. + </p> + <p> + The sagacious Philip looked at her gravely. He thought to himself how + piteous it was to see so young and lovely a creature, that had given up + all hope of happiness for herself. These being his real thoughts, he + expressed himself as follows: “We had better drop this subject, sir. This + young lady will take us potent, grave, and reverend seignors out of our + depth, if we don't mind.” + </p> + <p> + But the moment he got her alone he kissed her paternally, and said, “Rosa, + it is not lost on me, your fidelity to the dead. As years roll on, and + your deep wound first closes, then skins, then heals—” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, let me die first—” + </p> + <p> + “Time and nature will absolve you from that vow; but bless you for + thinking this can never be. Rosa, your folly of this day has made you my + heir; so never let money tempt you, for you have enough, and will have + more than enough when I go.” + </p> + <p> + He was as good as his word; altered his will next day, and made Rosa his + residuary legatee. When he had done this, foreseeing no fresh occasion for + his services, he prepared for a long visit to Italy. He was packing up his + things to go there, when he received a line from Lady Cicely Treherne, + asking him to call on her professionally. As the lady's servant brought + it, he sent back a line to say he no longer practised medicine, but would + call on her as a friend in an hour's time. + </p> + <p> + He found her reclining, the picture of lassitude. “How good of you to + come,” she drawled. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter?” said he brusquely. + </p> + <p> + “I wish to cawnsult you about myself. I think if anybody can brighten me + up, it is you. I feel such a languaw—such a want of spirit; and I + get palaa, and that is not desiwable.” + </p> + <p> + He examined her tongue and the white of her eye, and told her, in his + blunt way, she ate and drank too much. + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, sir,” said she stiffly. + </p> + <p> + “I mean too often. Now, let's see. Cup of tea in bed, of a morning?” + </p> + <p> + “Yaas.” + </p> + <p> + “Dinner at two?” + </p> + <p> + “We call it luncheon.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you a ventriloquist?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Then it is only your lips call it luncheon. Your poor stomach, could it + speak, would call it dinner. Afternoon tea?” + </p> + <p> + “Yaas.” + </p> + <p> + “At seven-thirty another dinner. Tea after that. Your afflicted stomach + gets no rest. You eat pastry?” + </p> + <p> + “I confess it.” + </p> + <p> + “And sugar in a dozen forms?” + </p> + <p> + She nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Well, sugar is poison to your temperament. Now I'll set you up, if you + can obey. Give up your morning dram.” + </p> + <p> + “What dwam?” + </p> + <p> + “Tea in bed, before eating. Can't you see that is a dram? Animal food + twice a day. No wine but a little claret and water; no pastry, no sweets, + and play battledore with one of your male subjects.” + </p> + <p> + “Battledaw! won't a lady do for that?” + </p> + <p> + “No: you would get talking, and not play ad sudorem.” + </p> + <p> + “Ad sudawem! what is that?” + </p> + <p> + “In earnest.” + </p> + <p> + “And will sudawem and the west put me in better spiwits, and give me a + tinge?” + </p> + <p> + “It will incarnadine the lily, and make you the happiest young lady in + England, as you are the best.” + </p> + <p> + “I should like to be much happier than I am good, if we could manage it + among us.” + </p> + <p> + “We will manage it AMONG us; for if the diet allowed should not make you + boisterously gay, I have a remedy behind, suited to your temperament. I am + old-fashioned, and believe in the temperaments.” + </p> + <p> + “And what is that wemedy?” + </p> + <p> + “Try diet, and hard exercise, first.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes; but let me know that wemedy.” + </p> + <p> + “I warn you it is what we call in medicine an heroic one.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind. I am despewate.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, the heroic remedy—to be used only as a desperate + resort, mind—you must marry an Irishman.” + </p> + <p> + This took the lady's breath away. + </p> + <p> + “Mawwy a nice man?” + </p> + <p> + “A nice man; no. That means a fool. Marry scientifically—a + precaution eternally neglected. Marry a Hibernian gentleman, a being as + mercurial as you are lymphatic.” + </p> + <p> + “Mercurial!—lymphatic!”— + </p> + <p> + “Oh, hard words break no bones, ma'am.” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir. And it is very curious. No, I won't tell you. Yes, I will. Hem I—I + think I have noticed one.” + </p> + <p> + “One what?” + </p> + <p> + “One Iwishman—dangling after me.” + </p> + <p> + “Then your ladyship has only to tighten the cord—and HE'S done for.” + </p> + <p> + Having administered this prescription, our laughing philosopher went off + to Italy, and there fell in with some countrymen to his mind, so he + accompanied them to Egypt and Palestine. + </p> + <p> + His absence, and Lord Tadcaster's, made Rosa Staines's life extremely + monotonous. Day followed day, and week followed week, each so unvarying, + that, on a retrospect, three months seemed like one day. + </p> + <p> + And I think at last youth and nature began to rebel, and secretly to crave + some little change or incident to ruffle the stagnant pool. Yet she would + not go into society, and would only receive two or three dull people at + the villa; so she made the very monotony which was beginning to tire her, + and nursed a sacred grief she had no need to nurse, it was so truly + genuine. + </p> + <p> + She was in this forlorn condition, when, one morning, a carriage drove to + the door, and a card was brought up to her—“Mr. Reginald Falcon.” + </p> + <p> + Falcon's history, between this and our last advices, is soon disposed of. + </p> + <p> + When, after a little struggle with his better angel, he rode past his + wife's gate, he intended, at first, only to go to Cape Town, sell the + diamonds, have a lark, and bring home the balance: but, as he rode south, + his views expanded. He could have ten times the fun in London, and + cheaper; since he could sell the diamonds for more money, and also conceal + the true price. This was the Bohemian's whole mind in the business. He had + no designs whatever on Mrs. Staines, nor did he intend to steal the + diamonds, but to embezzle a portion of the purchase-money, and enjoy the + pleasures and vices of the capital for a few months; then back to his + milch cow, Phoebe, and lead a quiet life till the next uncontrollable fit + should come upon him along with the means of satisfying it. + </p> + <p> + On the way, he read Staines's letter to Mrs. Falcon, very carefully. He + never broke the seal of the letter to Mrs. Staines. That was to be given + her when he had broken the good news to her; and this he determined to do + with such skill, as should make Dr. Staines very unwilling to look + suspiciously or ill-naturedly into money accounts. + </p> + <p> + He reached London; and being a thorough egotist, attended first to his own + interests; he never went near Mrs. Staines until he had visited every + diamond merchant and dealer in the metropolis; he showed the small stones + to them all but he showed no more than one large stone to each. + </p> + <p> + At last he got an offer of twelve hundred pounds for the small stones, and + the same for the large yellow stone, and nine hundred pounds for the + second largest stone. He took this nine hundred pounds, and instantly + wrote to Phoebe, telling her he had a sudden inspiration to bring the + diamonds to England, which he could not regret, since he had never done a + wiser thing. He had sold a single stone for eight hundred pounds, and had + sent the doctor's four hundred pounds to her account in Cape Town; and as + each sale was effected, the half would be so remitted. She would see by + that, he was wiser than in former days. He should only stay so long as + might be necessary to sell them all equally well. His own share he would + apply to paying off mortgages on the family estate, of which he hoped some + day to see her the mistress, or he would send it direct to her, whichever + she might prefer. + </p> + <p> + Now the main object of this artful letter was to keep Phoebe quiet, and + not have her coming after him, of which he felt she was very capable. + </p> + <p> + The money got safe to Cape Town, but the letter to Phoebe miscarried. How + this happened was never positively known; but the servant of the + lodging-house was afterwards detected cutting stamps off a letter; so + perhaps she had played that game on this occasion. + </p> + <p> + By this means, matters took a curious turn. Falcon, intending to lull his + wife into a false security, lulled himself into that state instead. + </p> + <p> + When he had taken care of himself, and got five hundred pounds to play the + fool with, then he condescended to remember his errand of mercy; and he + came down to Gravesend, to see Mrs. Staines. + </p> + <p> + On the road, he gave his mind seriously to the delicate and dangerous + task. It did not, however, disquiet him as it would you, sir, or you, + madam. He had a great advantage over you. He was a liar—a smooth, + ready, accomplished liar—and he knew it. + </p> + <p> + This was the outline he had traced in his mind: he should appear very + subdued and sad; should wear an air of condolence. But, after a while, + should say, “And yet men have been lost like that, and escaped. A man was + picked up on a raft in those very latitudes, and brought into Cape Town. A + friend of mine saw him, months after, at the hospital. His memory was + shaken—could not tell his name; but in other respects he was all + right again.” + </p> + <p> + If Mrs. Staines took fire at this, he would say his friend knew all the + particulars, and he would ask him, and so leave that to rankle till next + visit. And having planted his germ of hope, he would grow it, and water + it, by visits and correspondence, till he could throw off the mask, and + say he was convinced Staines was alive: and from that, by other degrees, + till he could say, on his wife's authority, that the man picked up at sea, + and cured at her house, was the very physician who had saved her brother's + life: and so on to the overwhelming proof he carried in the ruby ring and + the letter. + </p> + <p> + I am afraid the cunning and dexterity, the subtlety and tact required, + interested him more in the commission than did the benevolence. He called, + sent up his card, and composed his countenance for his part, like an actor + at the Wing. + </p> + <p> + “Not at home.” + </p> + <p> + He stared with amazement. + </p> + <p> + The history of a “Not at home” is not, in general, worth recording: but + this is an exception. + </p> + <p> + On receiving Falcon's card, Mrs. Staines gave a little start, and colored + faintly. She instantly resolved not to see him. What! the man she had + flirted with, almost jilted, and refused to marry—he dared to be + alive when her Christopher was dead, and had come there to show her HE was + alive! + </p> + <p> + She said “Not at home” with a tone of unusual sharpness and decision, + which left the servant in no doubt he must be equally decided at the hall + door. + </p> + <p> + Falcon received the sudden freezer with amazement. “Nonsense,” said he. + “Not at home at this time of the morning—to an old friend!” + </p> + <p> + “Not at home,” said the man doggedly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, very well,” said Falcon with a bitter sneer, and returned to London. + </p> + <p> + He felt sure she was at home; and being a tremendous egotist, he said, + “Oh! all right. If she would rather not know her husband is alive, it is + all one to me;” and he actually took no more notice of her for a full + week, and never thought of her, except to chuckle over the penalty she was + paying for daring to affront his vanity. + </p> + <p> + However, Sunday came; he saw a dull day before him, and so he relented, + and thought he would give her another trial. + </p> + <p> + He went down to Gravesend by boat, and strolled towards the villa. + </p> + <p> + When he was about a hundred yards from the villa, a lady, all in black, + came out with a nurse and child. + </p> + <p> + Falcon knew her figure all that way off, and it gave him a curious thrill + that surprised him. He followed her, and was not very far behind her when + she reached the church. She turned at the porch, kissed the child + earnestly, and gave the nurse some directions; then entered the church. + </p> + <p> + “Come,” said Falcon, “I'll have a look at her, any way.” + </p> + <p> + He went into the church, and walked up a side aisle to a pillar, from + which he thought he might be able to see the whole congregation; and, sure + enough, there she sat, a few yards from him. She was lovelier than ever. + Mind had grown on her face with trouble. An angelic expression illuminated + her beauty; he gazed on her, fascinated. He drank and drank her beauty two + mortal hours, and when the church broke up, and she went home, he was half + afraid to follow her, for he felt how hard it would be to say anything to + her but that the old love had returned on him with double force. + </p> + <p> + However, having watched her home, he walked slowly to and fro composing + himself for the interview. + </p> + <p> + He now determined to make the process of informing her a very long one: he + would spin it out, and so secure many a sweet interview with her: and, who + knows? he might fascinate her as she had him, and ripen gratitude into + love, as he understood that word. + </p> + <p> + He called, he sent in his card. The man went in, and came back with a + sonorous “Not at home.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at home? nonsense. Why, she is just come in from church.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at home,” said the man, evidently strong in his instructions. + </p> + <p> + Falcon turned white with rage at this second affront. “All the worse for + her,” said he, and turned on his heel. + </p> + <p> + He went home, raging with disappointment and wounded vanity, and—since + such love as his is seldom very far from hate—he swore she should + never know from him that her husband was alive. He even moralized. “This + comes of being so unselfish,” said he. “I'll give that game up forever.” + </p> + <p> + By and by, a mere negative revenge was not enough for him, and he set his + wits to work to make her smart. + </p> + <p> + He wrote to her from his lodgings:— + </p> + <p> + DEAR MADAM,—What a pity you are never at home to me. I had something + to say about your husband, that I thought might interest you. + </p> + <p> + Yours truly, + </p> + <p> + R. FALCON. + </p> + <p> + Imagine the effect of this abominable note. It was like a rock flung into + a placid pool. It set Rosa trembling all over. What could he mean? + </p> + <p> + She ran with it to her father, and asked him what Mr. Falcon could mean. + </p> + <p> + “I have no idea,” said he. “You had better ask him, not me.” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid it is only to get to see me. You know he admired me once. Ah, + how suspicious I am getting.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa wrote to Falcon:— + </p> + <p> + DEAR SIR,—Since my bereavement I see scarcely anybody. My servant + did not know you; so I hope you will excuse me. If it is too much trouble + to call again, would you kindly explain your note to me? + </p> + <p> + Yours respectfully, + </p> + <p> + ROSA STAINES. + </p> + <p> + Falcon chuckled bitterly over this. “No, my lady,” said he. “I'll serve + you out. You shall run after me like a little dog. I have got the bone + that will draw you.” + </p> + <p> + He wrote back coldly to say that the matter he had wished to communicate + was too delicate and important to put on paper; that he would try and get + down to Gravesend again some day or other, but was much occupied, and had + already put himself to inconvenience. He added, in a postscript, that he + was always at home from four to five. + </p> + <p> + Next day he got hold of the servant, and gave her minute instructions, and + a guinea. + </p> + <p> + Then the wretch got some tools and bored a hole in the partition wall of + his sitting-room. The paper had large flowers. He was artist enough to + conceal the trick with water-colors. In his bed-room the hole came behind + the curtains. + </p> + <p> + That very afternoon, as he had foreseen, Mrs. Staines called on him. The + maid, duly instructed, said Mr. Falcon was out, but would soon return, and + could she wait his return? The maid being so very civil, Mrs. Staines said + she would wait a little while, and was immediately ushered into Falcon's + sitting-room. There she sat down; but was evidently ill at ease, restless, + flushed. She could not sit quiet, and at last began to walk up and down + the room, almost wildly. Her beautiful eyes glittered, and the whole woman + seemed on fire. The caitiff, who was watching her, saw and gloated on all + this, and enjoyed to the full her beauty and agitation, and his revenge + for her “Not at homes.” + </p> + <p> + But after a long time, there was a reaction: she sat down and uttered some + plaintive sounds inarticulate, or nearly; and at last she began to cry. + </p> + <p> + Then it cost Falcon an effort not to come in and comfort her; but he + controlled himself and kept quiet. + </p> + <p> + She rang the bell. She asked for writing paper, and she wrote her unseen + tormentor a humble note, begging him, for old acquaintance, to call on + her, and tell her what his mysterious words meant that had filled her with + agitation. + </p> + <p> + This done, she went away, with a deep sigh, and Falcon emerged, and + pounced upon her letter. + </p> + <p> + He kissed it; he read it a dozen times: he sat down where she had sat, and + his base passion overpowered him. Her beauty, her agitation, her fear, her + tears, all combined to madden him, and do the devil's work in his false, + selfish heart, so open to violent passions, so dead to conscience. + </p> + <p> + For once in his life he was violently agitated, and torn by conflicting + feelings: he walked about the room more wildly than his victim had; and if + it be true that, in certain great temptations, good and bad angels fight + for a man, here you might have seen as fierce a battle of that kind as + ever was. + </p> + <p> + At last he rushed out into the air, and did not return till ten o'clock at + night. He came back pale and haggard, and with a look of crime upon his + face. + </p> + <p> + True Bohemian as he was, he sent for a pint of brandy. + </p> + <p> + So then the die was cast, and something was to be done that called for + brandy. + </p> + <p> + He bolted himself in, and drank a wine-glass of it neat; then another; + then another. + </p> + <p> + Now his pale cheek is flushed, and his eye glitters. Drink forever! great + ruin of English souls as well as bodies. + </p> + <p> + He put the poker in the fire, and heated it red hot. + </p> + <p> + He brought Staines's letter, and softened the sealing-wax with the hot + poker; then with his pen-knife made a neat incision in the wax, and opened + the letter. He took out the ring, and put it carefully away. Then he + lighted a cigar, and read the letter, and studied it. Many a man, capable + of murder in heat of passion, could not have resisted the pathos of this + letter. Many a Newgate thief, after reading it, would have felt such pity + for the loving husband who had suffered to the verge of death, and then to + the brink of madness, and for the poor bereaved wife, that he would have + taken the letter down to Gravesend that very night, though he picked two + fresh pockets to defray the expenses of the road. + </p> + <p> + But this was an egotist. Good nature had curbed his egotism a little + while; but now vanity and passion had swept away all unselfish feelings, + and the pure egotist alone remained. + </p> + <p> + Now, the pure egotist has been defined as a man who will burn down his + NEIGHBOR'S house to cook HIMSELF an egg. Murder is but egotism carried out + to its natural climax. What is murder to a pure egotist, especially a + brandied one? + </p> + <p> + I knew an egotist who met a female acquaintance in Newhaven village. She + had a one-pound note, and offered to treat him. She changed this note to + treat him. Fish she gave him, and much whiskey. Cost her four shillings. + He ate and drank with her, at her expense; and his aorta, or principal + blood-vessel, being warmed with her whiskey, he murdered her for the + change, the odd sixteen shillings. + </p> + <p> + I had the pleasure of seeing that egotist hung, with these eyes. It was a + slice of luck that, I grieve to say, has not occurred again to me. + </p> + <p> + So much for a whiskied egotist. + </p> + <p> + His less truculent but equally remorseless brother in villany, the + brandied egotist, Falcon, could read that poor husband's letter without + blenching; the love and the anticipations of rapture, these made him + writhe a little with jealousy, but they roused not a grain of pity. He was + a true egotist, blind, remorseless. + </p> + <p> + In this, his true character, he studied the letter profoundly, and + mastered all the facts, and digested them well. + </p> + <p> + All manner of diabolical artifices presented themselves to his brain, + barren of true intellect, yet fertile in fraud; in that, and all low + cunning and subtlety, far more than a match for Solomon or Bacon. + </p> + <p> + His sinister studies were pursued far into the night. Then he went to bed, + and his unbounded egotism gave him the sleep a grander criminal would have + courted in vain on the verge of a monstrous and deliberate crime. + </p> + <p> + Next day he went to a fashionable tailor, and ordered a complete suit of + black. This was made in forty-eight hours; the interval was spent mainly + in concocting lies to be incorporated with the number of minute facts he + had gained from Staines's letter, and in making close imitations of his + handwriting. + </p> + <p> + Thus armed, and crammed with more lies than the “Menteur” of Corneille, + but not such innocent ones, he went down to Gravesend, all in deep + mourning, with crape round his hat. + </p> + <p> + He presented himself at the villa. + </p> + <p> + The servant was all obsequiousness. Yes, Mrs. Staines received few + visitors; but she was at home to HIM. He even began to falter excuses. + “Nonsense,” said Falcon, and slipped a sovereign into his hand; “you are a + good servant, and obey orders.” + </p> + <p> + The servant's respect doubled, and he ushered the visitor into the + drawing-room, as one whose name was a passport. “Mr. Reginald Falcon, + madam.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Staines was alone. She rose to meet him. Her color came and went, her + full eye fell on him, and took in all at a glance—that he was all in + black, and that he had a beard, and looked pale, and ill at ease. + </p> + <p> + Little dreaming that this was the anxiety of a felon about to take the + actual plunge into a novel crime, she was rather prepossessed by it. The + beard gave him dignity, and hid his mean, cruel mouth. His black suit + seemed to say he, too, had lost some one dear to him; and that was a + ground of sympathy. + </p> + <p> + She received him kindly, and thanked him for taking the trouble to come + again. She begged him to be seated; and then, womanlike, she waited for + him to explain. + </p> + <p> + But he was in no hurry, and waited for her. He knew she would speak if he + was silent. + </p> + <p> + She could not keep him waiting long. “Mr. Falcon,” said she, hesitating a + little, “you have something to say to me about him I have lost.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said he softly. “I have something I could say, and I think I ought + to say it; but I am afraid: because I don't know what will be the result. + I fear to make you more unhappy.” + </p> + <p> + “Me! more unhappy? Me, whose dear husband lies at the bottom of the ocean. + Other poor wounded creatures have the wretched comfort of knowing where he + lies—of carrying flowers to his tomb. But I—oh, Mr. Falcon, I + am bereaved of all: even his poor remains lost,—lost”—she + could say no more. + </p> + <p> + Then that craven heart began to quake at what he was doing; quaked, yet + persevered; but his own voice quivered, and his cheek grew ashy pale. No + wonder. If ever God condescended to pour lightning on a skunk, surely now + was the time. + </p> + <p> + Shaking and sweating with terror at his own act, he stammered out, “Would + it be the least comfort to you to know that you are not denied that poor + consolation? Suppose he died not so miserably as you think? Suppose he was + picked up at sea, in a dying state?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” + </p> + <p> + “Suppose he lingered, nursed by kind and sympathizing hands, that almost + saved him? Suppose he was laid in hallowed ground, and a great many tears + shed over his grave?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, that would indeed be a comfort. And it was to say this you came. I + thank you. I bless you. But, my good, kind friend, you are deceived. You + don't know my husband. You never saw him. He perished at sea.” + </p> + <p> + “Will it be kind or unkind, to tell you why I think he died as I tell you, + and not at sea?” + </p> + <p> + “Kind, but impossible. You deceive yourself. Ah, I see. You found some + poor sufferer, and were good to him; but it was not my poor Christie. Oh, + if it were, I should worship you. But I thank you as it is. It was very + kind to want to give me this little, little crumb of comfort; for I know I + did not behave well to you, sir: but you are generous, and have forgiven a + poor heart-broken creature, that never was very wise.” + </p> + <p> + He gave her time to cry, and then said to her, “I only wanted to be sure + it WOULD be any comfort to you. Mrs. Staines, it is true I did not even + know his name; nor yours. When I met, in this very room, the great + disappointment that has saddened my own life, I left England directly. I + collected funds, went to Natal, and turned land-owner and farmer. I have + made a large fortune, but I need not tell you I am not happy. Well, I had + a yacht, and sailing from Cape Town to Algoa Bay, I picked up a raft, with + a dying man on it. He was perishing from exhaustion and exposure. I got a + little brandy between his lips, and kept him alive. I landed with him at + once: and we nursed him on shore. We had to be very cautious. He improved. + We got him to take egg-flip. He smiled on us at first, and then he thanked + us. I nursed him day and night for ten days. He got much stronger. He + spoke to me, thanked me again and again, and told me his name was + Christopher Staines. He told me that he should never get well. I implored + him to have courage. He said he did not want for courage; but nature had + been tried too hard. We got so fond of each other. Oh!”—and the + caitiff pretended to break down; and his feigned grief mingled with Rosa's + despairing sobs. + </p> + <p> + He made an apparent effort, and said, “He spoke to me of his wife, his + darling Rosa. The name made me start, but I could not know it was you. At + last he was strong enough to write a few lines, and he made me promise to + take them to his wife.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said Rosa. “Show them me.” + </p> + <p> + “I will.” + </p> + <p> + “This moment.” And her hands began to work convulsively. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot,” said Falcon. “I have not brought them with me.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa cast a keen eye of suspicion and terror on him. His not bringing the + letter seemed monstrous; and so indeed it was. The fact is, the letter was + not written. + </p> + <p> + Falcon affected not to notice her keen look. He flowed on, “The address he + put on that letter astonished me. 'Kent Villa.' Of course I knew Kent + Villa: and he called you 'Rosa.'” + </p> + <p> + “How could you come to me without that letter?” cried Rosa, wringing her + hands. “How am I to know? It is all so strange, so incredible.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you believe me?” said Falcon sadly. “Why should I deceive you? The + first time I came down to tell you all this, I did not KNOW who Mrs. + Staines was. I suspected; but no more. The second time I saw you in the + church, and then I knew; and followed you to try and tell you all this; + and you were not at home to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me,” said Rosa carelessly: then earnestly, “The letter! when can + I see it?” + </p> + <p> + “I will send, or bring it.” + </p> + <p> + “Bring it! I am in agony till I see it. Oh, my darling! my darling! It + can't be true. It was not my Christie. He lies in the depths of the ocean. + Lord Tadcaster was in the ship, and he says so; everybody says so.” + </p> + <p> + “And I say he sleeps in hallowed ground, and these hands laid him there.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa lifted her hands to heaven, and cried piteously, “I don't know what + to think. You would not willingly deceive me. But how can this be? Oh, + Uncle Philip, why are you away from me? Sir, you say he gave you a + letter?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, why, why did you not bring it?” + </p> + <p> + “Because he told me the contents; and I thought he prized my poor efforts + too highly. It did not occur to me you would doubt my word.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no: no more I do: but I fear it was not my Christie.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll go for the letter at once, Mrs. Staines.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, thank you! Bless you! Yes, this minute!” + </p> + <p> + The artful rogue did not go; never intended. + </p> + <p> + He rose TO GO; but had a sudden inspiration; very sudden, of course. “Had + he nothing about him you could recognize him by?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he had a ring I gave him.” + </p> + <p> + Falcon took a black-edged envelope out of his pocket. + </p> + <p> + “A ruby ring,” said she, beginning to tremble at his quiet action. + </p> + <p> + “Is that it?” and he handed her a ruby ring. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVII. + </h2> + <p> + Mrs. Staines uttered a sharp cry and seized the ring. Her eyes dilated + over it, and she began to tremble in every limb; and at last she sank + slowly back, and her head fell on one side like a broken lily. The sudden + sight of the ring overpowered her almost to fainting. + </p> + <p> + Falcon rose to call for assistance; but she made him a feeble motion not + to do so. + </p> + <p> + She got the better of her faintness, and then she fell to kissing the + ring, in an agony of love, and wept over it, and still held it, and gazed + at it through her blinding tears. + </p> + <p> + Falcon eyed her uneasily. + </p> + <p> + But he soon found he had nothing to fear. For a long time she seemed + scarcely aware of his presence; and when she noticed him, it was to thank + him, almost passionately. + </p> + <p> + “It was my Christie you were so good to: may Heaven bless you for it: and + you will bring me his letter, will you not?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I will.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, do not go yet. It is all so strange: so sad. I seem to have lost my + poor Christie again, since he did not die at sea. But no, I am ungrateful + to God, and ungrateful to the kind friend that nursed him to the last. Ah, + I envy you that. Tell me all. Never mind my crying. I have seen the time I + could not cry. It was worse then than now. I shall always cry when I speak + of him, ay, to my dying day. Tell me, tell me all.” + </p> + <p> + Her passion frightened the egotist, but did not turn him. He had gone too + far. He told her that, after raising all their hopes, Dr. Staines had + suddenly changed for the worse, and sunk rapidly; that his last words had + been about her, and he had said, “My poor Rosa, who will protect her?” + That, to comfort him, he had said he would protect her. Then the dying man + had managed to write a line or two, and to address it. Almost his last + words had been, “Be a father to my child.” + </p> + <p> + “That is strange.” + </p> + <p> + “You have no child? Then it must have been you he meant. He spoke of you + as a child more than once.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Falcon, I have a child; but born since I lost my poor child's + father.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I think he knew it. They say that dying men can see all over the + world: and I remember, when he said it, his eyes seemed fixed very + strangely, as if on something distant. Oh, how wonderful all this is. May + I see his child, to whom I promised”— + </p> + <p> + The artist in lies left his sentence half completed. + </p> + <p> + Rosa rang, and sent for her little boy. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Falcon admired his beauty, and said quietly, “I shall keep my vow.” + </p> + <p> + He then left her, with a promise to come back early next morning with the + letter. + </p> + <p> + She let him go only on those conditions. + </p> + <p> + As soon as her father came in, she ran to him with this strange story. + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe it,” said he. “It is impossible.” + </p> + <p> + She showed him the proof, the ruby ring. + </p> + <p> + Then he became very uneasy, and begged her not to tell a soul. He did not + tell her the reason, but he feared the insurance office would hear of it, + and require proofs of Christopher's decease, whereas they had accepted it + without a murmur, on the evidence of Captain Hamilton and the Amphitrite's + log-book. + </p> + <p> + As for Falcon, he went carefully through Staines's two letters, and + wherever he found a word that suited his purpose, he traced it by the + usual process, and so, in the course of a few hours, he concocted a short + letter, all the words in which, except three, were facsimiles, only here + and there a little shaky; the three odd words he had to imitate by + observation of the letters. The signature he got to perfection by tracing. + </p> + <p> + He inserted this letter in the original envelope, and sealed it very + carefully, so as to hide that the seal had been tampered with. + </p> + <p> + Thus armed, he went down to Gravesend. There he hired a horse and rode to + Kent Villa. + </p> + <p> + Why he hired a horse, he knew how hard it is to forge handwriting, and he + chose to have the means of escape at hand. + </p> + <p> + He came into the drawing-room, ghastly pale, and almost immediately gave + her the letter; then turned his back, feigning delicacy. In reality he was + quaking with fear lest she should suspect the handwriting. But the + envelope was addressed by Staines, and paved the way for the letter; she + was unsuspicious and good, and her heart cried out for her husband's last + written words: at such a moment, what chance had judgment and suspicion in + an innocent and loving soul? + </p> + <p> + Her eloquent sighs and sobs soon told the caitiff he had nothing to fear. + </p> + <p> + The letter ran thus:— + </p> + <p> + MY OWN ROSA,—All that a brother could do for a beloved brother, + Falcon has done. He nursed me night and day. But it is vain. I shall never + see you again in this world. I send you a protector, and a father to your + child. Value him. He has promised to be your stay on earth, and my spirit + shall watch over you.—To my last breath, your loving husband, + </p> + <p> + CHRISTOPHER STAINES. + </p> + <p> + Falcon rose, and began to steal on tiptoe out of the room. + </p> + <p> + Rosa stopped him. “You need not go,” said she. “You are our friend. By and + by I hope I shall find words to thank you.” + </p> + <p> + “Pray let me retire a moment,” said the hypocrite. “A husband's last + words: too sacred—a stranger:” and he went out into the garden. + There he found the nursemaid Emily, and the little boy. + </p> + <p> + He stopped the child, and made love to the nursemaid; showed her his + diamonds—he carried them all about him—told her he had thirty + thousand acres in Cape Colony, and diamonds on them; and was going to buy + thirty thousand more of the government. “Here, take one,” said he. “Oh, + you needn't be shy. They are common enough on my estates. I'll tell you + what, though, you could not buy that for less than thirty pounds at any + shop in London. Could she, my little duck? Never mind, it is no brighter + than her eyes. Now do you know what she will do with that, Master + Christie? She will give it to some duffer to put in a pin.” + </p> + <p> + “She won't do nothing of the kind,” said Emily, flushing all over. “She is + not such a fool.” She then volunteered to tell him she had no sweetheart, + and did not trouble her head about young men at all. He interpreted this + to mean she was looking out for one. So do I. + </p> + <p> + “No sweetheart!” said he; “and the prettiest girl I have seen since I + landed: then I put in for the situation.” + </p> + <p> + Here, seeing the footman coming, he bestowed a most paternal kiss on + little Christie, and saying, “Not a word to John, or no more diamonds from + me;” he moved carefully away, leaving the girl all in a flutter with + extravagant hopes. + </p> + <p> + The next moment this wolf in the sheep-fold entered the drawing-room. Mrs. + Staines was not there. He waited, and waited, and began to get rather + uneasy, as men will who walk among pitfalls. + </p> + <p> + Presently the footman came to say that Mrs. Staines was with her father, + in his study, but she would come to him in five minutes. + </p> + <p> + This increased his anxiety. What! She was taking advice of an older head. + He began to be very seriously alarmed, and, indeed, had pretty well made + up his mind to go down and gallop off, when the door opened, and Rosa came + hastily in. Her eyes were very red with weeping. She came to him with both + hands extended to him; he gave her his, timidly. She pressed them with + such earnestness and power as he could not have suspected; and thanked + him, and blessed him, with such a torrent of eloquence, that he hung his + head with shame; and, being unable to face it out, villain as he was, yet + still artful to the core, he pretended to burst out crying, and ran out of + the room, and rode away. + </p> + <p> + He waited two days, and then called again. Rosa reproached him sweetly for + going before she had half thanked him. + </p> + <p> + “All the better,” said he. “I have been thanked a great deal too much + already. Who would not do his best for a dying countryman, and fight night + and day to save him for his wife and child at home? If I had succeeded, + then I would be greedy of praise: but now it makes me blush; it makes me + very sad.” + </p> + <p> + “You did your best,” said Rosa tearfully. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! that I did. Indeed, I was ill for weeks after, myself, through the + strain upon my mind, and the disappointment, and going so many nights + without sleep. But don't let us talk of that.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know what my darling says to me in my letter?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Would you like to see it?” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed I should; but I have no right.” + </p> + <p> + “Every right. It is the only mark of esteem, worth anything, I can show + you.” + </p> + <p> + She handed him the letter, and buried her own face in her hands. + </p> + <p> + He read it, and acted the deepest emotion. + </p> + <p> + He handed it back, without a word. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVIII. + </h2> + <p> + From this time Falcon was always welcome at Kent Villa. He fascinated + everybody in the house. He renewed his acquaintance with Mr. Lusignan, and + got asked to stay a week in the house. He showed Rosa and her father the + diamonds, and, the truth must be owned, they made Rosa's eyes sparkle for + the first time this eighteen months. He insinuated rather than declared + his enormous wealth. + </p> + <p> + In reply to the old man's eager questions, as the large diamonds lay + glittering on the table, and pointed every word, he said that a few of his + Hottentots had found these for him; he had made them dig on a + diamondiferous part of his estate, just by way of testing the matter; and + this was the result; this, and a much larger stone, for which he had + received eight thousand pounds from Posno. + </p> + <p> + “If I was a young man,” said Lusignan, “I would go out directly, and dig + on your estate.” + </p> + <p> + “I would not let you do anything so paltry,” said “le Menteur.” “Why, my + dear sir, there are no fortunes to be made by grubbing for diamonds; the + fortunes are made out of the diamonds, but not in that way. Now, I have + thirty thousand acres, and am just concluding a bargain for thirty + thousand more, on which I happen to know there are diamonds in a sly + corner. Well, of my thirty thousand tried acres, a hundred only are + diamondiferous. But I have four thousand thirty-foot claims leased at ten + shillings per month. Count that up.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, it is twenty-four thousand pounds a year.” + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me: you must deduct a thousand a year for the expenses of + collection. But this is only one phase of the business. I have a large inn + upon each of the three great routes from the diamonds to the coast; and + these inns are supplied with the produce of my own farms. Mark the effect + of the diamonds on property. My sixty thousand acres, which are not + diamondiferous, will very soon be worth as much as sixty thousand English + acres, say two pounds the acre per annum. That is under the mark, because + in Africa the land is not burdened with poor-rates, tithes, and all the + other iniquities that crush the English land-owner, as I know to my cost. + But that is not all, sir. Would you believe it? even after the diamonds + were declared, the people out there had so little foresight that they + allowed me to buy land all round Port Elizabeth, Natal, and Cape Town, the + three ports through which the world get at the diamonds, and the diamonds + get at the world. I have got a girdle of land round those three outlets, + bought by the acre; in two years I shall sell it by the yard. Believe me, + sir, English fortunes, even the largest, are mere child's play, compared + with the colossal wealth a man can accumulate, if he looks beyond these + great discoveries to their consequences, and lets others grub for him. But + what is the use of it all to me?” said this Bohemian, with a sigh. “I have + no taste for luxuries; no love of display. I have not even charity to + dispense on a large scale; for there are no deserving poor out there; and + the poverty that springs from vice, that I never will encourage.” + </p> + <p> + John heard nearly all this, and took it into the kitchen; and henceforth + Adoration was the only word for this prince of men, this rare combination + of the Adonis and the millionnaire. + </p> + <p> + He seldom held such discourses before Rosa; but talked her father into an + impression of his boundless wealth, and half reconciled him to Rosa's + refusal of Lord Tadcaster, since here was an old suitor, who, doubtless, + with a little encouragement, would soon come on again. + </p> + <p> + Under this impression, Mr. Lusignan gave Falcon more than a little + encouragement, and, as Rosa did not resist, he became a constant visitor + at the villa, and was always there from Saturday to Monday. + </p> + <p> + He exerted all his art of pleasing, and he succeeded. He was welcome to + Rosa, and she made no secret of it. + </p> + <p> + Emily threw herself in his way, and had many a sly talk with him, while he + was pretending to be engaged with young Christie. He flattered her, and + made her sweet on him, but was too much in love with Rosa, after his + fashion, to flirt seriously with her. He thought he might want her + services: so he worked upon her after this fashion; asked her if she would + like to keep an inn. + </p> + <p> + “Wouldn't I just?” said she frankly. + </p> + <p> + Then he told her that, if all went to his wish in England, she should be + landlady of one of his inns in the Cape Colony. “And you will get a good + husband out there directly,” said he. “Beauty is a very uncommon thing in + those parts. But I shall ask you to marry somebody who can help you in the + business—or not to marry at all.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish I had the inn,” said Emily. “Husbands are soon got when a girl + hasn't her face only to look to.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I promise you the inn,” said he, “and a good outfit of clothes, and + money in both pockets, if you will do me a good turn here in England.” + </p> + <p> + “That I would, sir. But, laws, what can a poor girl like me do for a rich + gentleman like you?” + </p> + <p> + “Can you keep a secret, Emily?” + </p> + <p> + “Nobody better. You try me, sir.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at her well; saw she was one of those who could keep a secret, + if she chose, and he resolved to risk it. + </p> + <p> + “Emily, my girl,” said he sadly, “I am an unhappy man.” + </p> + <p> + “You, sir! Why, you didn't ought to be.” + </p> + <p> + “I am then. I am in love; and cannot win her.” + </p> + <p> + Then he told the girl a pretty tender tale, that he had loved Mrs. Staines + when she was Miss Lusignan, had thought himself beloved in turn, but was + rejected; and now, though she was a widow, he had not the courage to court + her, her heart was in the grave. He spoke in such a broken voice that the + girl's good-nature fought against her little pique at finding how little + he was smitten with HER, and Falcon soon found means to array her cupidity + on the side of her good-nature. He gave her a five-pound note to buy + gloves, and promised her a fortune, and she undertook to be secret as the + grave, and say certain things adroitly to Mrs. Staines. + </p> + <p> + Accordingly, this young woman omitted no opportunity of dropping a word in + favor of Falcon. For one thing, she said to Mrs. Staines, “Mr. Falcon must + be very fond of children, ma'am. Why, he worships Master Christie.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed! I have not observed that.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, no, ma'am. He is rather shy over it; but when he sees us alone, he + is sure to come to us, and say, 'Let me look at my child, nurse;' and he + do seem fit to eat him. Onst he says to me, 'This boy is my heir, nurse.' + What did he mean by that, ma'am?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he any kin to you, ma'am?” + </p> + <p> + “None whatever. You must have misunderstood him. You should not repeat all + that people say.” + </p> + <p> + “No, ma'am; only I did think it so odd. Poor gentleman, I don't think he + is happy, for all his money.” + </p> + <p> + “He is too good to be unhappy all his life.” + </p> + <p> + “So I think, ma'am.” + </p> + <p> + These conversations were always short, for Rosa, though she was too kind + and gentle to snub the girl, was also too delicate to give the least + encouragement to her gossip. + </p> + <p> + But Rosa's was a mind that could be worked upon, and these short but + repeated eulogies were not altogether without effect. + </p> + <p> + At last the insidious Falcon, by not making his approaches in a way to + alarm her, acquired her friendship as well as her gratitude; and, in + short, she got used to him and liked him. Not being bound by any limit of + fact whatever, he entertained her, and took her out of herself a little by + extemporaneous pictures; he told her all his thrilling adventures by flood + and field, not one of which had ever occurred, yet he made them all sound + like truth; he invented strange characters, and set them talking; he went + after great whales, and harpooned one, which slapped his boat into + fragments with one stroke of its tail; then died, and he hung on by the + harpoon protruding from the carcass till a ship came and picked him up. He + shot a lion that was carrying off his favorite Hottentot. He encountered + another, wounded him with both barrels, was seized, and dragged along the + ground, and gave himself up for lost, but kept firing his revolver down + the monster's throat till at last he sickened him, and so escaped out of + death's maw; he did NOT say how he had fired in the air, and ridden + fourteen miles on end, at the bare sight of a lion's cub; but, to + compensate that one reserve, plunged into a raging torrent and saved a + drowning woman by her long hair, which he caught in his teeth; he rode a + race on an ostrich against a friend on a zebra, which went faster, but + threw his rider, and screamed with rage at not being able to eat him; he, + Falcon, having declined to run unless his friend's zebra was muzzled. He + fed the hungry, clothed the naked, and shot a wild elephant in the eye; + and all this he enlivened with pictorial descriptions of no mean beauty, + and as like South Africa as if it had been feu George Robins advertising + that continent for sale. + </p> + <p> + In short, never was there a more voluble and interesting liar by word of + mouth, and never was there a more agreeable creature interposed between a + bereaved widow and her daily grief and regrets. He diverted her mind from + herself, and did her good. + </p> + <p> + At last, such was the charm of infinite lying, she missed him on the days + he did not come, and was brighter when he did come and lie. + </p> + <p> + Things went smoothly, and so pleasantly, that he would gladly have + prolonged this form of courtship for a month or two longer, sooner than + risk a premature declaration. But more than one cause drove him to a + bolder course; his passion, which increased in violence by contact with + its beautiful object, and also a great uneasiness he felt at not hearing + from Phoebe. This silence was ominous. He and she knew each other, and + what the other was capable of. He knew she was the woman to cross the seas + after him, if Staines left the diggings, and any explanation took place + that might point to his whereabouts. + </p> + <p> + These double causes precipitated matters, and at last he began to throw + more devotion into his manner; and having so prepared her for a few days, + he took his opportunity and said, one day, “We are both unhappy. Give me + the right to console you.” + </p> + <p> + She colored high, and said, “You have consoled me more than all the world. + But there is a limit; always will be.” + </p> + <p> + One less adroit would have brought her to the point; but this artist only + sighed, and let the arrow rankle. By this means he out-fenced her; for now + she had listened to a declaration and not stopped it short. + </p> + <p> + He played melancholy for a day or two, and then he tried her another way. + He said, “I promised your dying husband to be your protector, and a father + to his child. I see but one way to keep my word, and that gives me courage + to speak—without that I never could. Rosa, I loved you years ago, I + am unmarried for your sake. Let me be your husband, and a father to your + child.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa shook her head. “I COULD not marry again. I esteem you, I am very + grateful to you: and I know I behaved ill to you before. If I could marry + again, it would be you. But I cannot. Oh, never! never!” + </p> + <p> + “Then we both are to be unhappy all our days.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall, as I ought to be. You will not, I hope. I shall miss you sadly; + but, for all that, I advise you to leave me. You will carry my everlasting + gratitude, go where you will; that and my esteem are all I have to give.” + </p> + <p> + “I will go,” said he; “and I hope he who is gone will forgive my want of + courage.” + </p> + <p> + “He who is gone took my promise never to marry again.” + </p> + <p> + “Dying men see clearer. I am sure he wished—no matter; it is too + delicate.” He kissed her hand and went out, a picture of dejection. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Staines shed a tear for him. + </p> + <p> + Nothing was heard of him for several days; and Rosa pitied him more and + more, and felt a certain discontent with herself, and doubt whether she + had done right. + </p> + <p> + Matters were in this state, when one morning Emily came screaming in from + the garden, “The child!—Master Christie!—Where is he?—Where + is he?” + </p> + <p> + The house was alarmed. The garden searched, the adjoining paddock. The + child was gone. + </p> + <p> + Emily was examined, and owned, with many sobs and hysterical cries, that + she had put him down in the summer-house for a minute, while she went to + ask the gardener for some balm, balm tea being a favorite drink of hers. + “But there was nobody near that I saw,” she sobbed. + </p> + <p> + Further inquiry proved, however, that a tall gypsy woman had been seen + prowling about that morning; and suspicion instantly fastened on her. + Servants were sent out right and left; but nothing discovered; and the + agonized mother, terrified out of her wits, had Falcon telegraphed to + immediately. + </p> + <p> + He came galloping down that very evening, and heard the story. He galloped + into Gravesend, and after seeing the police, sent word out he should + advertise. He placarded Gravesend with bills, offering a reward of a + thousand pounds, the child to be brought to him, and no questions asked. + </p> + <p> + Meantime the police and many of the neighboring gentry came about the + miserable mother with their vague ideas. + </p> + <p> + Down comes Falcon again next day; tells what he has done, and treats them + all with contempt. “Don't you be afraid, Mrs. Staines,” said he. “You will + get him back. I have taken the sure way. This sort of rogues dare not go + near the police, and the police can't find them. You have no enemies; it + is only some woman that has fancied a beautiful child. Well, she can have + them by the score, for a thousand pounds.” + </p> + <p> + He was the only one with a real idea; the woman saw it, and clung to him. + He left late at night. + </p> + <p> + Next morning out came the advertisements, and he sent her a handful by + special messenger. His zeal and activity kept her bereaved heart from + utter despair. + </p> + <p> + At eleven that night came a telegraph:— + </p> + <p> + “I have got him. Coming down by special train.” + </p> + <p> + Then what a burst of joy and gratitude! The very walls of the house seemed + to ring with it as a harp rings with music. A special train, too! he would + not let the mother yearn all night. + </p> + <p> + At one in the morning he drove up with the child and a hired nurse. + </p> + <p> + Imagine the scene! The mother's screams of joy, her furious kisses, her + cooing, her tears, and all the miracles of nature at such a time. The + servants all mingled with their employers in the general rapture, and + Emily, who was pale as death, cried and sobbed, and said, “Oh, ma'am, I'll + never let him out of my sight again, no, not for one minute.” Falcon made + her a signal, and went out. She met him in the garden. + </p> + <p> + She was much agitated, and cried, “Oh, you did well to bring him to-day. I + could not have kept it another hour. I'm a wretch.” + </p> + <p> + “You are a good kind girl; and here's the fifty pounds I promised you.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, and I have earned it.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course you have. Meet me in the garden to-morrow morning, and I'll + show you you have done a kind thing to your mistress, as well as me. And + as for the fifty pounds, that is NOTHING; do you hear? it is nothing at + all, compared with what I will do for you, if you will be true to me, and + hold your tongue.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! as for that, my tongue shan't betray you, nor shame ME. You are a + gentleman, and I do think you love her, or I would not help you.” + </p> + <p> + So she salved her nursemaid's conscience—with the help of the fifty + pounds. + </p> + <p> + The mother was left to her rapture that night. In the morning Falcon told + his tale. + </p> + <p> + “At two P.M. a man had called on him, and had produced one of his + advertisements, and had asked him if that was all square—no bobbies + on the lurk. 'All square, my fine fellow.' 'Well,' said he, 'I suppose you + are a gentleman.' 'I am of that opinion too.' 'Well, sir,' says he, 'I + know a party as has FOUND a young gent as comes werry nigh your + advertisement.' 'It will be a very lucky find to that party,' I said, 'if + he is on the square.' 'Oh, WE are always on the square, when the blunt is + put down.' 'The blunt for the child, when you like, and where you like,' + said I. 'You are the right sort,' said he. 'I am,' replied I. 'Will you + come and see if it is all right?' said he. 'In a minute,' said I. Stepped + into my bedroom, and loaded my six-shooter.” + </p> + <p> + “What is that?” said Lusignan. + </p> + <p> + “A revolver with six barrels: by the by, the very same I killed the lion + with. Ugh! I never think of that scene without feeling a little quiver; + and my nerves are pretty good, too. Well, he took me into an awful part of + the town, down a filthy close, into some boozing ken—I beg pardon, + some thieves' public-house.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my dear friend,” said Rosa, “were you not frightened?” + </p> + <p> + “Shall I tell you the truth, or play the hero? I think I'll tell YOU the + truth. I felt a little frightened, lest they should get my money and my + life, without my getting my godson: that is what I call him now. Well, two + ugly dogs came in, and said, 'Let us see the flimsies, before you see the + kid.' + </p> + <p> + “'That is rather sharp practice, I think,' said I; 'however, here's the + swag, and here's the watch-dog.' So I put down the notes, and my hand over + them with my revolver cocked, and ready to fire.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” said Rosa pantingly. “Ah, you were a match for them.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Mrs. Staines, if I was writing you a novel, I suppose I should tell + you the rogues recoiled; but the truth is they only laughed, and were + quite pleased. 'Swell's in earnest,' said one, 'Jem, show the kid.' Jem + whistled, and in came a great tall black gypsy woman, with the darling. My + heart was in my mouth, but I would not let them see it. I said, 'It is all + right. Take half the notes here, and half at the door.' They agreed, and + then I did it quick, walked to the door, took the child, gave them the odd + notes, and made off as fast as I could, hired a nurse at the hospital—and + the rest you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Papa,” said Rosa, with enthusiasm, “there is but one man in England who + would have got me back my child, and this is he.” + </p> + <p> + When they were alone, Falcon told her she had said words that gladdened + his very heart. “You admit I can carry out one half of his wishes?” said + he. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Staines said “Yes,” then colored high; then, to turn it off, said, + “But I cannot allow you to lose that large sum of money. You must let me + repay you.” + </p> + <p> + “Large sum of money!” said he. “It is no more to me than sixpence to most + people. I don't know what to do with my money; and I never shall know, + unless you will make a sacrifice of your own feelings to the wishes of the + dead. O Mrs. Staines—Rosa, do pray consider that a man of that + wisdom sees the future, and gives wise advice. Sure am I that, if you + could overcome your natural repugnance to a second marriage, it would be + the best thing for your little boy—I love him already as if he were + my own—and in time would bring you peace and comfort, and some day, + years hence, even happiness. You are my only love; yet I should never have + come to you again if HE had not sent me. Do consider how strange it all + is, and what it points to, and don't let me have the misery of losing you + again, when you can do no better now, alas! than reward my fidelity.” + </p> + <p> + She was much moved at this artful appeal, and said, “If I was sure I was + obeying his will. But how can I feel that, when we both promised never to + wed again?” + </p> + <p> + “A man's dying words are more sacred than any other. You have his letter.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but he does not say 'marry again.'” + </p> + <p> + “That is what he meant, though.” + </p> + <p> + “How can you say that? How can you know?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I put the words he said to me together with that short line to + you. Mind, I don't say that he did not exaggerate my poor merits; on the + contrary, I think he did. But I declare to you that he did hope I should + take care of you and your child. Right or wrong, it was his wish, so pray + do not deceive yourself on that point.” + </p> + <p> + This made more impression on her than anything else he could say, and she + said, “I promise you one thing, I will never marry any man but you.” + </p> + <p> + Instead of pressing her further, as an inferior artist would, he broke + into raptures, kissed her hand tenderly, and was in such high spirits, and + so voluble all day, that she smiled sweetly on him, and thought to + herself, “Poor soul! how happy I could make him with a word!” + </p> + <p> + As he was always watching her face—a practice he carried further + than any person living—he divined that sentiment, and wrought upon + it so, that at last he tormented her into saying she would marry him SOME + DAY. + </p> + <p> + When he had brought her to that, he raged inwardly to think he had not two + years to work in; for it was evident she would marry him in time. But no, + it had taken him more than four months, close siege, to bring her to that. + No word from Phoebe. An ominous dread hung over his own soul. His wife + would be upon him, or, worse still, her brother Dick, who he knew would + beat him to a mummy on the spot; or, worst of all, the husband of Rosa + Staines, who would kill him, or fling him into a prison. He MUST make a + push. + </p> + <p> + In this emergency he used his ally, Mr. Lusignan; he told him Mrs. Staines + had promised to marry him, but at some distant date. This would not do; he + must look after his enormous interests in the colony, and he was so much + in love he could not leave her. + </p> + <p> + The old gentleman was desperately fond of Falcon, and bent on the match, + and he actually consented to give his daughter what Falcon called a little + push. + </p> + <p> + The little push was a very great one, I think. + </p> + <p> + It consisted in directing the clergyman to call in church the banns of + marriage between Reginald Falcon and Rosa Staines. + </p> + <p> + They were both in church together when this was done. Rosa all but + screamed, and then turned red as fire and white as a ghost, by turns. She + never stood up again all the service; and in going home refused Falcon's + arm, and walked swiftly home by herself. Not that she had the slightest + intention of passing this monstrous thing by in silence. On the contrary, + her wrath was boiling over, and so hot that she knew she should make a + scene in the street if she said a word there. + </p> + <p> + Once inside the house she turned on Falcon, with a white cheek and a + flashing eye, and said, “Follow me, sir, if you please.” She led the way + to her father's study. “Papa,” said she, “I throw myself on your + protection. Mr. Falcon has affronted me.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Rosa!” cried Falcon, affecting utter dismay. + </p> + <p> + “Publicly—publicly: he has had the banns of marriage cried in the + church, without my permission.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't raise your voice so loud, child. All the house will hear you.” + </p> + <p> + “I choose all the house to hear me. I will not endure it. I will never + marry you now—never!” + </p> + <p> + “Rosa, my child,” said Lusignan, “you need not scold poor Falcon, for I am + the culprit. It was I who ordered the banns to be cried.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! papa, you had no right to do such a thing as that.” + </p> + <p> + “I think I had. I exercised parental authority for once, and for your + good, and for the good of a true and faithful lover of yours, whom you + jilted once, and now you trifle with his affection and his interests. He + loves you too well to leave you; yet you know his vast estates and + interests require supervision.” + </p> + <p> + “That for his vast estates!” said Rosa contemptuously. “I am not to be + driven to the altar like this, when my heart is in the grave. Don't you do + it again, papa, or I'll get up and forbid the banns; affront for affront.” + </p> + <p> + “I should like to see that,” said the old gentleman dryly. + </p> + <p> + Rosa vouchsafed no reply, but swept out of the room, with burning cheeks + and glittering eyes, and was not seen all day, would not dine with them, + in spite of three humble, deprecating notes Falcon sent her. + </p> + <p> + “Let the spiteful cat alone,” said old Lusignan. “You and I will dine + together in peace and quiet.” + </p> + <p> + It was a dull dinner; but Falcon took advantage of the opportunity, + impregnated the father with his views, and got him to promise to have the + banns cried next Sunday. He consented. + </p> + <p> + Rosa learned next Sunday morning that this was to be done, and her courage + failed her. She did not go to church at all. + </p> + <p> + She cried a great deal, and submitted to violence, as your true women are + too apt to do. They had compromised her, and so conquered her. The + permanent feelings of gratitude and esteem caused a reaction after her + passion, and she gave up open resistance as hopeless. + </p> + <p> + Falcon renewed his visits, and was received with the mere sullen languor + of a woman who has given in. + </p> + <p> + The banns were cried a third time. + </p> + <p> + Then the patient Rosa bought laudanum enough to reunite her to her + Christopher, in spite of them all; and having provided herself with this + resource, became more cheerful, and even kind and caressing. + </p> + <p> + She declined to name the day at present, and that was awkward. + Nevertheless the conspirators felt sure they should tire her out into + doing that, before long; for they saw their way clear, and she was + perplexed in the extreme. + </p> + <p> + In her perplexity, she used to talk to a certain beautiful star she called + her Christopher. She loved to fancy he was now an inhabitant of that + bright star; and often on a clear night she would look up, and beg for + guidance from this star. This I consider foolish: but then I am old and + sceptical; she was still young and innocent, and sorely puzzled to know + her husband's real will. + </p> + <p> + I don't suppose the star had anything to do with it, except as a focus of + her thoughts; but one fine night, after a long inspection of Christopher's + star, she dreamed a dream. She thought that a lovely wedding-dress hung + over a chair, that a crown of diamonds as large as almonds sparkled ready + for her on the dressing-table, and she was undoing her black gown, and + about to take it off, when suddenly the diamonds began to pale, and the + white satin dress to melt away, and in its place there rose a pale face + and a long beard, and Christopher Staines stood before her, and said + quietly, “Is this how you keep your vow?” Then he sank slowly, and the + white dress was black, and the diamonds were jet; and she awoke, with his + gentle words of remonstrance and his very tones ringing in her ear. + </p> + <p> + This dream, co-operating with her previous agitation and misgivings, shook + her very much; she did not come down-stairs till near dinner-time; and + both her father and Falcon, who came as a matter of course to spend his + Sunday, were struck with her appearance. She was pale, gloomy, morose, and + had an air of desperation about her. + </p> + <p> + Falcon would not see it; he knew that it is safest to let her sex alone + when they look like that; and then the storm sometimes subsides of itself. + </p> + <p> + After dinner, Rosa retired early; and soon she was heard walking rapidly + up and down the dressing-room. + </p> + <p> + This was quite unusual, and made a noise. + </p> + <p> + Papa Lusignan thought it inconsiderate; and after a while, remarking + gently that he was not particularly fond of sound, he proposed they should + smoke the pipe of peace on the lawn. + </p> + <p> + They did so; but after a while, finding that Falcon was not smoking, he + said, “Don't let me detain you. Rosa is alone.” + </p> + <p> + Falcon took the hint, and went to the drawing-room. Rosa met him on the + stairs, with a scarf over her shoulders. “I must speak to papa,” said she. + “Where is he?” + </p> + <p> + “He is on the lawn, dear Rosa,” said Falcon, in his most dulcet tones. He + was sure of his ally, and very glad to use him as a buffer to receive the + first shock. + </p> + <p> + So he went into the drawing-room, where all the lights were burning, and + quietly took up a book. But he did not read a line; he was too occupied in + trying to read his own future. + </p> + <p> + The mean villain, who is incapable of remorse, is, of all men, most + capable of fear. His villany had, to all appearance, reached the goal; for + he felt sure that all Rosa's struggles would, sooner or later, succumb to + her sense of gratitude and his strong will and patient temper. But when + the victory was won, what a life! He must fly with her to some foreign + country, pursued from pillar to post by an enraged husband, and by the + offended law. And if he escaped the vindictive foe a year or two, how + could he escape that other enemy he knew, and dreaded—poverty? He + foresaw he should come to hate the woman he was about to wrong, and she + would instantly revenge herself, by making him an exile and, soon or late, + a prisoner, or a pauper. + </p> + <p> + While these misgivings battled with his base but ardent passion, strange + things were going on out of doors—but they will be best related in + another sequence of events, to which indeed they fairly belong. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIX. + </h2> + <p> + Staines and Mrs. Falcon landed at Plymouth, and went up to town by the + same train. They parted in London, Staines to go down to Gravesend, Mrs. + Falcon to visit her husband's old haunts, and see if she could find him. + </p> + <p> + She did not find him; but she heard of him, and learned that he always + went down to Gravesend from Saturday till Monday. + </p> + <p> + Notwithstanding all she had said to Staines, the actual information + startled her, and gave her a turn. She was obliged to sit down, for her + knees seemed to give way. It was but a momentary weakness. She was now a + wife and a mother, and had her rights. She said to herself, “My rogue has + turned that poor woman's head long before this, no doubt. But I shall go + down and just bring him away by the ear.” + </p> + <p> + For once her bitter indignation overpowered every other sentiment, and she + lost no time, but late as it was went down to Gravesend, ordered a private + sitting-room and bedroom for the night, and took a fly to Kent Villa. + </p> + <p> + But Christopher Staines had the start of her. He had already gone down to + Gravesend with his carpet-bag, left it at the inn, and walked to Kent + Villa that lovely summer night, the happiest husband in England. + </p> + <p> + His heart had never for one instant been disturbed by Mrs. Falcon's + monstrous suspicion; he looked on her as a monomaniac; a sensible woman + insane on one point, her husband. + </p> + <p> + When he reached the villa, however, he thought it prudent to make sure + that Falcon had come to England at all, and discharged his commission. He + would not run the risk, small as he thought it, of pouncing unexpected on + his Rosa, being taken for a ghost, and terrifying her, or exciting her to + madness. + </p> + <p> + Now the premises of Kent Villa were admirably adapted to what they call in + war a reconnaissance. The lawn was studded with laurestinas and other + shrubs that had grown magnificently in that Kentish air. + </p> + <p> + Staines had no sooner set his foot on the lawn, than he heard voices; he + crept towards them from bush to bush; and standing in impenetrable shade, + he saw in the clear moonlight two figures—Mr. Lusignan and Reginald + Falcon. + </p> + <p> + These two dropped out only a word or two at intervals; but what they did + say struck Staines as odd. For one thing, Lusignan remarked, “I suppose + you will want to go back to the Cape. Such enormous estates as yours will + want looking after.” + </p> + <p> + “Enormous estates!” said Staines to himself. “Then they must have grown + very fast in a few months.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes,” said Falcon; “but I think of showing her a little of Europe + first.” + </p> + <p> + Staines thought this still more mysterious; he waited to hear more, but + the succeeding remarks were of an ordinary kind. + </p> + <p> + He noticed, however, that Falcon spoke of his wife by her Christian name, + and that neither party mentioned Christopher Staines. He seemed quite out + of their little world. + </p> + <p> + He began to feel a strange chill creep down him. + </p> + <p> + Presently Falcon went off to join Rosa; and Staines thought it was quite + time to ask the old gentleman whether Falcon had executed his commission, + or not. + </p> + <p> + He was only hesitating how to do it, not liking to pounce in the dark on a + man who abhorred everything like excitement, when Rosa herself came flying + out in great agitation. + </p> + <p> + Oh! the thrill he felt at the sight of her! With all his self-possession, + he would have sprung forward and taken her in his arms with a mighty cry + of love, if she had not immediately spoken words that rooted him to the + spot with horror. But she came with the words in her very mouth; “Papa, I + am come to tell you I cannot, and will not, marry Mr. Falcon.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, you will, my dear.” + </p> + <p> + “Never! I'll die sooner. Not that you will care for that. I tell you I saw + my Christopher last night—in a dream. He had a beard; but I saw him, + oh, so plain; and he said, 'Is this the way you keep your promise?' That + is enough for me. I have prayed, again and again, to his star, for light. + I am so perplexed and harassed by you all, and you make me believe what + you like. Well, I have had a revelation. It is not my poor lost darling's + wish I should wed again. I don't believe Mr. Falcon any more. I hear + nothing but lies by day. The truth comes to my bedside at night. I will + not marry this man.” + </p> + <p> + “Consider, Rosa, your credit is pledged. You must not be always jilting + him heartlessly. Dreams! nonsense. There—I love peace. It is no use + your storming at me; rave to the moon and the stars, if you like, and when + you have done, do pray come in, and behave like a rational woman, who has + pledged her faith to an honorable man, and a man of vast estates—a + man that nursed your husband in his last illness, found your child, at a + great expense, when you had lost him, and merits eternal gratitude, not + eternal jilting. I have no patience with you.” + </p> + <p> + The old gentleman retired in high dudgeon. + </p> + <p> + Staines stood in the black shade of his cedar-tree, rooted to the ground + by this revelation of male villany and female credulity. + </p> + <p> + He did not know what on earth to do. He wanted to kill Falcon, but not to + terrify his own wife to death. It was now too clear she thought he was + dead. + </p> + <p> + Rosa watched her father's retiring figure out of sight. “Very well,” said + she, clenching her teeth; then suddenly she turned, and looked up to + heaven. “Do you hear?” said she, “my Christie's star? I am a poor + perplexed creature. I asked you for a sign, and that very night I saw him + in a dream. Why should I marry out of gratitude? Why should I marry one + man, when I love another? What does it matter his being dead? I love him + too well to be wife to any living man. They persuade me, they coax me, + they pull me, they push me. I see they will make me. But I will outwit + them. See—see!” and she held up a little phial in the moonlight. + “This shall cut the knot for me; this shall keep me true to my Christie, + and save me from breaking promises I ought never to have made. This shall + unite me once more with him I killed, and loved.” + </p> + <p> + She meant she would kill herself the night before the wedding, which + perhaps she would not, and perhaps she would. Who can tell? The weak are + violent. But Christopher, seeing the poison so near her lips, was + perplexed, took two strides, wrenched it out of her hand, with a snarl of + rage, and instantly plunged into the shade again. + </p> + <p> + Rosa uttered a shriek, and flew into the house. + </p> + <p> + The farther she got, the more terrified she became, and soon Christopher + heard her screaming in the drawing-room in an alarming way. They were like + the screams of the insane. + </p> + <p> + He got terribly anxious, and followed her. All the doors were open. + </p> + <p> + As he went up-stairs, he heard her cry, “His ghost! his ghost! I have seen + his ghost! No, no. I feel his hand upon my arm now. A beard! and so he had + in the dream! He is alive. My darling is alive. You have deceived me. You + are an impostor—a villain. Out of the house this moment, or he shall + kill you.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you mad?” cried Falcon. “How can he be alive, when I saw him dead?” + </p> + <p> + This was too much. Staines gave the door a blow with his arm, and strode + into the apartment, looking white and tremendous. + </p> + <p> + Falcon saw death in his face; gave a shriek, drew his revolver, and fired + at him with as little aim as he had at the lioness; then made for the open + window. Staines seized a chair, followed him, and hurled it at him; and + the chair and the man went through the window together, and then there was + a strange thud heard outside. + </p> + <p> + Rosa gave a loud scream, and swooned away. + </p> + <p> + Staines laid his wife flat on the floor, got the women about her, and at + last she began to give the usual signs of returning life. + </p> + <p> + Staines said to the oldest woman there, “If she sees me, she will go off + again. Carry her to her room; and tell her, by degrees, that I am alive.” + </p> + <p> + All this time Papa Lusignan had sat trembling and whimpering in a chair, + moaning, “This is a painful scene—very painful.” But at last an idea + struck him—“WHY, YOU HAVE ROBBED THE OFFICE!” + </p> + <p> + Scarcely was Mrs. Staines out of the room, when a fly drove up, and this + was immediately followed by violent and continuous screaming close under + the window. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear!” sighed Papa Lusignan. + </p> + <p> + They ran down, and found Falcon impaled at full length on the spikes of + the villa, and Phoebe screaming over him, and trying in vain to lift him + off them. He had struggled a little, in silent terror, but had then + fainted from fear and loss of blood, and lying rather inside the rails, + which were high, he could not be extricated from the outside. + </p> + <p> + As soon as his miserable condition was discovered, the servants ran down + into the kitchen, and so up to the rails by the area steps. These rails + had caught him; one had gone clean through his arm, the other had + penetrated the fleshy part of the thigh, and a third pierced his ear. + </p> + <p> + They got him off; but he was insensible, and the place drenched with his + blood. + </p> + <p> + Phoebe clutched Staines by the arm. “Let me know the worst,” said she. “Is + he dead?” + </p> + <p> + Staines examined him, and said “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Can you save him?” + </p> + <p> + “I?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Who can, if you cannot? Oh, have mercy on me!” and she went on her + knees to him, and put her forehead on his knees. + </p> + <p> + He was touched by her simple faith; and the noble traditions of his + profession sided with his gratitude to this injured woman. “My poor + friend,” said he, “I will do my best, for YOUR sake.” + </p> + <p> + He took immediate steps for stanching the blood; and the fly carried + Phoebe and her villain to the inn at Gravesend. + </p> + <p> + Falcon came to on the road; but finding himself alone with Phoebe, shammed + unconsciousness of everything but pain. + </p> + <p> + Staines, being thoroughly enraged with Rosa, yet remembering his solemn + vow never to abuse her again, saw her father, and told him to tell her he + should think over her conduct quietly, not wishing to be harder upon her + than she deserved. + </p> + <p> + Rosa, who had been screaming, and crying for joy, ever since she came to + her senses, was not so much afflicted at this message as one might have + expected. He was alive, and all things else were trifles. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, when day after day went by, and not even a line from + Christopher, she began to fear he would cast her off entirely; the more so + as she heard he was now and then at Gravesend to visit Mrs. Falcon at the + inn. + </p> + <p> + While matters were thus, Uncle Philip burst on her like a bomb. “He is + alive! he is alive! he is alive!” And they had a cuddle over it. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Uncle Philip! Have you seen him?” + </p> + <p> + “Seen him? Yes. He caught me on the hop, just as I came in from Italy. I + took him for a ghost.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, weren't you frightened?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit. I don't mind ghosts. I'd have half a dozen to dinner every + day, if I might choose 'em. I couldn't stand stupid ones. But I say, his + temper isn't improved by all this dying: he is in an awful rage with you; + and what for?” + </p> + <p> + “O uncle! what for? Because I'm the vilest of women!” + </p> + <p> + “Vilest of fiddlesticks! It's his fault, not yours. Shouldn't have died. + It's always a dangerous experiment.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall die if he will not forgive me. He keeps away from me and from his + child.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll tell you. He heard, in Gravesend, your banns had been cried: that + has moved the peevish fellow's bile.” + </p> + <p> + “It was done without my consent. Papa will tell you so; and, O uncle, if + you knew the arts, the forged letter in my darling's hand, the way he + wrought on me! O villain! villain! Uncle, forgive your poor silly niece, + that the world is too wicked and too clever for her to live in.” + </p> + <p> + “Because you are too good and innocent,” said Uncle Philip. “There, don't + you be down-hearted. I'll soon bring you two together again—a couple + of ninnies. I'll tell you what is the first thing: you must come and live + with me. Come at once, bag and baggage. He won't show here, the sulky + brute.” + </p> + <p> + Philip Staines had a large house in Cavendish Square, a crusty old + patient, like himself, had left him. It was his humor to live in a corner + of this mansion, though the whole was capitally furnished by his judicious + purchases at auctions. + </p> + <p> + He gave Rosa and her boy and his nurse the entire first floor, and told + her she was there for life. “Look here,” said he, “this last affair has + opened my eyes. Such women as you are the sweeteners of existence. You + leave my roof no more. Your husband will make the same discovery. Let him + run about, and be miserable a bit. He will have to come to book.” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head sadly. + </p> + <p> + “My Christopher will never say a harsh word to me. All the worse for me. + He will quietly abandon a creature so inferior to him.” + </p> + <p> + “Stuff!” + </p> + <p> + Now, she was always running to the window, in hope that Christopher would + call on his uncle, and that she might see him; and one day she gave a + scream so eloquent, Philip knew what it meant. “Get you behind that + screen, you and your boy,” said he, “and be as still as mice. Stop! give + me that letter the scoundrel forged, and the ring.” + </p> + <p> + This was hardly done, and Rosa out of sight, and trembling from head to + foot, when Christopher was announced. Philip received him very + affectionately, but wasted no time. + </p> + <p> + “Been to Kent Villa yet?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” was the grim reply. + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I have sworn never to say an angry word to her again; and, if I + was to go there, I should say a good many angry ones. Oh, when I think + that her folly drove me to sea, to do my best for her, and that I was + nearer death for that woman than ever man was, and lost my reason for her, + and went through toil and privations, hunger, exile, mainly for her, and + then to find the banns cried in open church, with that scoundrel!—say + no more, uncle. I shall never reproach her, and never forgive her.” + </p> + <p> + “She was deceived.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't doubt that; but nobody has a right to be so great a fool as all + that.” + </p> + <p> + “It was not her folly, but her innocence, that was imposed on. You a + philosopher, and not know that wisdom itself is sometimes imposed on, and + deceived by cunning folly! Have you forgotten your Milton?— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “'At Wisdom's gate, Suspicion sleeps, + And deems no ill where no ill seems.' +</pre> + <p> + “Come, come! are you sure you are not a little to blame? Did you write + home the moment you found you were not dead?” + </p> + <p> + Christopher colored high. + </p> + <p> + “Evidently not,” said the keen old man. “Ah, my fine fellow! have I found + the flaw in your own armor?” + </p> + <p> + “I did wrong, but it was for her. I sinned for her. I could not bear her + to be without money, and I knew the insurance—I sinned for her. She + has sinned AGAINST me.” + </p> + <p> + “And she had much better have sinned against God, hadn't she? He is more + forgiving than we perfect creatures that cheat insurance companies. And + so, my fine fellow, you hid the truth from her for two or three months.” + </p> + <p> + No answer. + </p> + <p> + “Strike off those two or three months; would the banns have ever been + cried?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, uncle,” said Christopher, hard pressed, “I am glad she has got a + champion; and I hope you will always keep your eye on her.” + </p> + <p> + “I mean to.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning.” + </p> + <p> + “No; don't be in a hurry. I have something else to say, not so provoking. + Do you know the arts by which she was made to believe you wished her to + marry again?” + </p> + <p> + “I wished her to marry again! Are you mad, uncle?” + </p> + <p> + “Whose handwriting is on this envelope?” + </p> + <p> + “Mine, to be sure.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, read the letter.” + </p> + <p> + Christopher read the forged letter. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, monstrous!” + </p> + <p> + “This was given her with your ruby ring, and a tale so artful that nothing + we read about the devil comes near it. This was what did it. The Earl of + Tadcaster brought her title, and wealth, and love.” + </p> + <p> + “What, he too! The little cub I saved, and lost myself for—blank + him! blank him!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, you stupid ninny! you forget you were dead; and he could not help + loving her. How could he? Well, but you see she refused him. And why? + because he came without a forged letter from YOU. Do you doubt her love + for you?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I do. She never loved me as I loved her.” + </p> + <p> + “Christopher, don't you say that before me, or you and I shall quarrel. + Poor girl! she lay, in my sight, as near death for you as you were for + her. I'll show you something.” + </p> + <p> + He went to a cabinet, and took out a silver paper; he unpinned it, and + laid Rosa's beautiful black hair upon her husband's knees. “Look at that, + you hard-hearted brute!” he roared to Christopher, who sat, anything but + hard-hearted, his eyes filling fast, at the sad proof of his wife's love + and suffering. + </p> + <p> + Rosa could bear no more. She came out with her boy in her hand. “O uncle, + do not speak harshly to him, or you will kill me quite!” + </p> + <p> + She came across the room, a picture of timidity and penitence, with her + whole eloquent body bent forward at an angle. She kneeled at his knees, + with streaming eyes, and held her boy up to him: “Plead for your poor + mother, my darling. She mourns her fault, and will never excuse it.” + </p> + <p> + The cause was soon decided. All Philip's logic was nothing, compared with + mighty nature. Christopher gave one great sob, and took his darling to his + heart, without one word; and he and Rosa clung together, and cried over + each other. Philip slipped out of the room, and left the restored ones + together. + </p> + <p> + I have something more to say about my hero and heroine, but must first + deal with other characters, not wholly uninteresting to the reader, I + hope. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Staines directed Phoebe Falcon how to treat her husband. No medicine, + no stimulants; very wholesome food, in moderation, and the temperature of + the body regulated by tepid water. Under these instructions, the injured + but still devoted wife was the real healer. He pulled through, but was + lame for life, and ridiculously lame, for he went with a spring halt,—a + sort of hop-and-go-one that made the girls laugh, and vexed Adonis. + </p> + <p> + Phoebe found the diamonds, and offered them all to Staines, in expiation + of his villany. “See,” she said, “he has only spent one.” + </p> + <p> + Staines said he was glad of it, for her sake, for he must be just to his + own family. He sold them for three thousand two hundred pounds; but for + the big diamond he got twelve thousand pounds, and I believe it was worth + double the money. + </p> + <p> + Counting the two sums, and deducting six hundred for the stone Mr. Falcon + had embezzled, he gave her over seven thousand pounds. + </p> + <p> + She stared at him, and changed color at so large a sum. “But I have no + claim on that, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “That is a good joke,” said he. “Why, you and I are partners in the whole + thing—you and I and Dick. Was it not with his horse and rifle I + bought the big diamond? Poor dear, honest, manly Dick! No, the money is + honestly yours, Mrs. Falcon; but don't trust a penny to your husband.” + </p> + <p> + “He will never see it, sir. I shall take him back, and give him all his + heart can ask for, with this; but he will be little more than a servant in + the house now, as long as Dick is single; I know that;” and she could + still cry at the humiliation of her villain. + </p> + <p> + Staines made her promise to write to him; and she did write him a sweet, + womanly letter, to say that they were making an enormous fortune, and + hoped to end their days in England. Dick sent his kind love and thanks. + </p> + <p> + I will add, what she only said by implication, that she was happy after + all. She still contrived to love the thing she could not respect. Once, + when an officious friend pitied her for her husband's lameness, she said, + “Find me a face like his. The lamer the better; he can't run after the + girls, like SOME.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Staines called on Lady Cicely Treherne; the footman stared. He left + his card. + </p> + <p> + A week afterwards, she called on him. She had a pink tinge in her cheeks, + a general animation, and her face full of brightness and archness. + </p> + <p> + “Bless me!” said he bluntly, “is this you? How you are improved!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said she; “and I am come to thank you for your pwescwiption: I + followed it to the lettaa.” + </p> + <p> + “Woe is me! I have forgotten it.” + </p> + <p> + “You diwected me to mawwy a nice man.” + </p> + <p> + “Never: I hate a nice man.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no—an Iwishman: and I have done it.” + </p> + <p> + “Good gracious! you don't mean that! I must be more cautious in my + prescriptions. After all, it seems to agree.” + </p> + <p> + “Admiwably.” + </p> + <p> + “He loves you?” + </p> + <p> + “To distwaction.” + </p> + <p> + “He amuses you?” + </p> + <p> + “Pwodigiously. Come and see.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. and Mrs. Staines live with Uncle Philip. The insurance money is + returned, but the diamond money makes them very easy. Staines follows his + profession now under great advantages: a noble house, rent free; the + curiosity that attaches to a man who has been canted out of a ship in + mid-ocean, and lives to tell it; and then Lord Tadcaster, married into + another noble house, swears by him, and talks of him; so does Lady Cicely + Munster, late Treherne; and when such friends as these are warm, it makes + a physician the centre of an important clientele; but his best friend of + all is his unflagging industry, and his truly wonderful diagnosis, which + resembles divination. He has the ball at his feet, and above all, that + without which worldly success soon palls, a happy home, a fireside warm + with sympathy. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Staines is an admiring, sympathizing wife, and an admirable + housekeeper. She still utters inadvertencies now and then, commits new + errors at odd times, but never repeats them when exposed. Observing which + docility, Uncle Philip has been heard to express a fear that, in twenty + years, she will be the wisest woman in England. “But, thank heaven!” he + adds, “I shall be gone before that.” + </p> + <p> + Her conduct and conversation afford this cynic constant food for + observation; and he has delivered himself oracularly at various stages of + the study: but I cannot say that his observations, taken as a whole, + present that consistency which entitles them to be regarded as a body of + philosophy. Examples: In the second month after Mrs. Staines came to live + with him, he delivered himself thus: “My niece Rosa is an anomaly. She + gives you the impression she is shallow. Mind your eye: in one moment she + will take you out of your depth or any man's depth. She is like those + country streams I used to fish for pike when I was young; you go along, + seeing the bottom everywhere; but presently you come to a corner, and it + is fifteen deep all in a moment, and souse you go over head and ears: + that's my niece Rosa.” + </p> + <p> + In six months he had got to this—and, mind you, each successive + dogma was delivered in a loud, aggressive tone, and in sublime oblivion of + the preceding oracle—“My niece Rosa is the most artful woman. (You + may haw! haw! haw! as much as you like. You have not found out her little + game—I have.) What is the aim of all women? To be beloved by an + unconscionable number of people. Well, she sets up for a simpleton, and so + disarms all the brilliant people, and they love her. Everybody loves her. + Just you put her down in a room with six clever women, and you will see + who is the favorite. She looks as shallow as a pond, and she is as deep as + the ocean.” + </p> + <p> + At the end of the year he threw off the mask altogether. “The great + sweetener of a man's life,” said he, “is 'a simpleton.' I shall not go + abroad any more; my house has become attractive: I've got a simpleton. + When I have a headache, her eyes fill with tender concern, and she hovers + about me and pesters me with pillows: when I am cross with her, she is + afraid I am ill. When I die, and leave her a lot of money, she will howl + for months, and say I don't want his money: 'I waw-waw-waw-waw-want my + Uncle Philip, to love me, and scold me.' One day she told me, with a sigh, + I hadn't lectured her for a month. 'I am afraid I have offended you,' says + she, 'or else worn you out, dear.' When I am well, give me a simpleton, to + make me laugh. When I am ill, give me a simpleton to soothe me with her + innocent tenderness. A simpleton shall wipe the dews of death, and close + my eyes: and when I cross the river of death, let me be met by a band of + the heavenly host, who were all simpletons here on earth, and too good for + such a hole, so now they are in heaven, and their garments always white—because + there are no laundresses there.” + </p> + <p> + Arrived at this point, the Anglo-Saxon race will retire, grinning, to + fresh pastures, and leave this champion of “a Simpleton,” to thunder + paradoxes in a desert. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Simpleton, by Charles Reade + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A SIMPLETON *** + +***** This file should be named 2301-h.htm or 2301-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/0/2301/ + +Produced by Donald Lainson; David Widger + +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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