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diff --git a/old/smptn10.txt b/old/smptn10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..22c263d --- /dev/null +++ b/old/smptn10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,16872 @@ +**The Project Gutenberg Etext of A Simpleton, by Charles Reade** + + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the copyright laws for your country before posting these files!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. Do not remove this. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations* + +Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and +further information is included below. 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If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Association/Carnegie-Mellon + University" within the 60 days following each + date you prepare (or were legally required to prepare) + your annual (or equivalent periodic) tax return. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time, +scanning machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty +free copyright licenses, and every other sort of contribution +you can think of. Money should be paid to "Project Gutenberg +Association / Carnegie-Mellon University". + +*END*THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + + +This etext was prepared by Donald Lainson, charlie@idirect.com. + + + + + +A SIMPLETON + +by Charles Reade + + + + +PREFACE. + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +I give the following particulars as an illustration of my method: + +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. + +In the nautical business I had the assistance of two practical +seamen: my brother, William Barrington Reade, and Commander Charles +Edward Reade, R.N. + +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. + +As to the plot and characters, they are invented. + +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. + +CHARLES READE. + + + +A SIMPLETON. + + +CHAPTER I. + + +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. + +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. + +Collectively, viz., mind and body, the girl we kneel to. + +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. + +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. + +All the better: her not perceiving that slight addition to her +furniture gives me a moment to describe him. + +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. + +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?" + +"Of course. Poor man!--only you said you wanted to see papa, and +he always goes out at two." + +When she had been betrayed into saying this, she drew in suddenly, +and blushed with a pretty consciousness. + +"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?" + +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." + +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"-- + +"Well, papa was astonished; for everybody says the colonel is a +most eligible match. Don't you hate that expression? I do. +Eligible!" + +Christopher made due haste, and recaptured her. "Yes, love, your +papa said"-- + +"I don't think I will tell you. He asked me was there anybody +else; and of course I said 'No.'" + +"Oh!" + +"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." + +"But did you really deceive him?" + +"No, I blushed; and he caught me; so he said, 'Come, now, there +was.'" + +"And you said, 'Yes, there is,' like a brave girl as you are." + +"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." + +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." + +"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." + +"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?" + +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?" + +He parted lingeringly from her, then marched away, bold with love +and hope, to demand her hand in marriage. + +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. + +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. + +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!" + +Miss Lusignan rose from her chair, and looked almost wildly at him +with her great eyes. "Refused?" said she, faintly. + +"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." + +"Dear Christopher! And what COULD he say to all that?" + +"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?'" + +"Oh! There! I always hated arithmetic, and now I abominate it." + +"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." + +"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." + +"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"-- + +"Oh, that is so like papa. He is director of an insurance company, +so all the world must insure their lives." + +"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?" + +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." + +"Bless you, dearest! Stop!--not to make yourself ill! not for all +the world." The lover and the physician spoke in turn. + +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." + +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. + +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." + +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. + +"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." + +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." + +"And I'll show you what love can suffer," said Rosa, folding her +beautiful arms superbly. + +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. + +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. + +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!" + + +CHAPTER II. + + +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. + +By degrees this noiseless melancholy undermined the old gentleman, +and he well-nigh tottered. + +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. + +He took the first opportunity, when they were alone, and told her +he was glad to find she was only dismal at home. + +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." + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +Rosa read it again and again, and cried over it before her father, +to encourage him in his heartless behavior. + +About ten days after this, something occurred that altered her mood. + +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. + +He was not a little pleased, and said to himself, "She is coming +round to common-sense." + +Now, on the contrary, she was farther from it than ever. + +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. + +"What! anybody ill?" said Mr. Lusignan. "One of the servants?" + +"No; it is Miss Lusignan." + +"Why, what is the matter with her?" + +Wyman hesitated. "Oh, nothing very alarming. Would you mind +asking her?" + +"Why?" + +"The fact is, she requested me not to tell you: made me promise." + +"And I insist upon your telling me." + +"And I think you are quite right, sir, as her father. Well, she is +troubled with a little spitting of blood." + +Mr. Lusignan turned pale. "My child! spitting of blood! God +forbid!" + +"Oh, do not alarm yourself. It is nothing serious." + +"Don't tell me!" said the father. "It is always serious. And she +kept this from me!" + +Masking his agitation for the time, he inquired how often it had +occurred, this grave symptom. + +"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." + +"From the throat, then?" + +"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." + +"Who is the ablest physician hereabouts?" asked Lusignan, abruptly. + +"Dr. Snell, I think." + +"Give me his address." + +"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." + +"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." + +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?" + +"Hide what, papa?" said the girl, looking the picture of +unconsciousness. + +"That you have been spitting blood." + +"Who told you that?" said she, sharply. + +"Wyman. He is attending you." + +Rosa colored with anger. "Chatterbox! He promised me faithfully +not to." + +"But why, in Heaven's name? What! would you trust this terrible +thing to a stranger, and hide it from your poor father?" + +"Yes," replied Rosa, quietly. + +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. + +"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?" + +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." + +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!" + +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. + +Her father held out his arms to her. She ran her footstool to him, +and sat nestling to his heart. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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." + +"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. + +"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." + +Dr. Snell bowed a lofty assent; for, to receive a hint from a +layman was to confer a favor on him. + +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. + +At the door they were met by the anxious father, who came with +throbbing heart, and asked the doctors' verdict. + +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. + +"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." + +"No doubt," said Dr. Snell; "but," with a superior smile, "my dear +sir, it is not the etiquette." + +"Oh, very well," said Lusignan. But he muttered, "So, then, a +father is nobody!" + +And this unreasonable person retired to his study, miserable, and +gave up the dining-room to the consultation. + +They soon rejoined him. + +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." + +"Is that so, Dr. Snell?" asked Lusignan, anxiously. + +"It is so, sir." He added, "The treatment has been submitted to +me, and I quite approve it." + +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. + +And here I must reveal an extraordinary circumstance. + +Wyman's treatment was by drugs. + +Dr. Snell's was by drugs. + +Dr. Snell, as you have seen, entirely approved Wyman's treatment. + +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. + +Amiable science! In which complete diversity of practice did not +interfere with perfect uniformity of opinion. + +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. + +No: he could hear of nothing. + +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. + +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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +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. + +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." + +"I will ask Mr. Wyman to get a physician down from London." + +"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." + +"Dr. Staines! he is very young." + +"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." + +"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?" + +"I think by this time he must be at his lodgings in Gravesend. +Send to him to-morrow morning." + +"Not I! I'll go to him to-night. It is only a mile, and a fine +clear night." + +"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." + +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. + +Before she had recovered her composure, a letter was brought her, +and this was the letter from Christopher Staines, alluded to +already. + +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. + + +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. + +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. + +Darling Rosa, pray let me look at your face once more. + +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, + +CHRISTOPHER STAINES. + + +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!" + +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. + +She rang the bell hard. The footman came. + +"Send Harriet to me this instant. Oh, and ask papa to come to me." + +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. + +The footman came back first. "If you please, miss, master has gone +out." + +"Run after him--the road to Gravesend." + +"Yes, miss." + +"No. It is no use. Never mind." + +"Yes, miss." + +Then Harriet came in. "Did you want me, miss?" + +"Yes. No--never mind now." + +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. + + +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. + +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? + +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. + +"Dr. Staines!" said Mr. Lusignan surprised. Christopher uttered an +ejaculation more eloquent than words. + +They stared at each other. + +"You were coming to call on us?" + +"N--no," stammered Christopher. + +Lusignan thought that odd; however, he said politely, "No matter, +it is fortunate. Would you mind coming in?" + +"No," faltered Christopher, and stared at him ruefully, puzzled +more and more, but beginning to think, after all, it might be a +casual meeting. + +They entered the gate, and in one moment he saw Rosa at the window, +and she saw him. + +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? + +Mr. Lusignan took him first into the study, and lighted two candles +himself. He did not want the servants prying. + +The lights showed Christopher a change in Mr. Lusignan. He looked +ten years older. + +"You are not well, sir," said Christopher gently. + +"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." + +"Ill! and not tell me!" + +"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!" + +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. + +They alarmed him greatly. + +"Let us lose no more time," said he. "I will see her at once." + +"Do you object to my being present?" + +"Of course not." + +"Shall I tell you what Dr. Snell says it is, and Mr. Wyman?" + +"By all means--after I have seen her." + +This comforted Mr. Lusignan. He was to get an independent +judgment, at all events. + +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." + +Mr. Lusignan opened the door, and said, with forced cheerfulness, +"Dr. Staines, my dear, come to give you the benefit of his skill." + +She lay on the sofa, just as we left her. Only her bosom began to +heave. + +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. + + +CHAPTER III. + + +The young physician walked steadily up to his patient without +taking his eye off her, and drew a chair to her side. + +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." + +"Very well," said she softly. + +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! + +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. + +"Not a tinge of purple?" + +"No," said she hopefully, mistaking him. + +He suppressed a sigh. + +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. + +Mr. Lusignan crept nearer, and stood with both hands on a table, +and his old head bowed, awaiting yet dreading the verdict. + +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." + +"There!" + +"If you could draw a deeper still," said he, insinuatingly. + +"There, then!" said she, a little pettishly. + +Dr. Staines's eye kindled. + +"Hum!" said he. Then, after a considerable pause, "Are you better +or worse after each hemorrhage?" + +"La!" said Rosa; "they never asked me that. Why, better." + +"No faintness?" + +"Not a bit." + +"Rather a sense of relief, perhaps?" + +"Yes; I feel lighter and better." + +The examination was concluded. + +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. + +"The hemorrhage is from the lungs"-- + +Lusignan interrupted him: "From the lungs!" cried he, in dismay. + +"Yes; a slight congestion of the lungs." + +"But not incurable! Oh, not incurable, doctor!" + +"Heaven forbid! It is curable--easily--by removing the cause." + +"And what is the cause?" + +"The cause?"--he hesitated, and looked rather uneasy.--"Well, the +cause, sir, is--tight stays." + +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!" + +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. + +"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." + +"Highly grateful for the comparison!" cried Rosa. "Women and +snakes!" + +Dr. Staines blushed and looked uncomfortable. "I did not mean to +be offensive; it certainly was a very clumsy comparison." + +"What does that matter?" said Mr. Lusignan, impatiently. "Be +quiet, Rosa, and let Dr. Staines and me talk sense." + +"Oh, then I am nobody in the business!" said this wise young lady. + +"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." + +"And a pretty subject it is!" + +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." + +Mr. Lusignan complied; and the patient began to titter directly, to +put them out of countenance. + +"Please observe what takes place when I draw a full breath. + +"Now apply the same test to the patient. Breathe your best, +please, Miss Lusignan." + +The patient put on a face full of saucy mutiny. + +"To oblige us both." + +"Oh, how tiresome!" + +"I am aware it is rather laborious," said Staines, a little dryly; +"but to oblige your father!" + +"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." + +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." + +"I did; but my daughter's waist was like dead wood, and so were her +lower ribs." + +At this volunteer statement, Rosa colored to her temples. "Thanks, +papa! Pack me off to London, and sell me for a big doll!" + +"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." + +He gave a little gulp, and hurried away, with an abruptness that +touched the father and offended the sapient daughter. + +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. + +"Well, Rosa, what do you say?" + +"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!" + +Mr. Lusignan admitted it was odd. "But, after all," said he, "if +medicine does you no good?" + +"Ah! but any medicine HE had prescribed would have done me good, +and that makes it all the unkinder." + +"If you think so highly of his skill, why not take his advice? It +can do no harm." + +"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." + +This staggered Mr. Lusignan, and he was afraid to press the point; +but what Staines had said fermented in his mind. + +Dr. Snell and Mr. Wyman continued their visits and their +prescriptions. + +The patient got a little worse. + +Mr. Lusignan hoped Christopher would call again, but he did not. + +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. + +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." + +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." + +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. + +Having thus taken him by the eye, he took him by the mind. + +"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'?" + +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. + +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." + +He came that very evening, and saw directly she was worse. "Of +course," said he, sadly, "you have not taken my advice." + +Rosa replied with a toss and an evasion, "I was not worth a +prescription!" + +"A physician can prescribe without sending his patient to the +druggist; and when he does, then it is his words are gold." + +Rosa shook her head with an air of lofty incredulity. + +He looked ruefully at Mr. Lusignan and was silent. Rosa smiled +sarcastically; she thought he was at his wit's end. + +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?" + +"Of course I do, every syllable." + +"And the lessons it teaches?" + +"Certainly!" + +"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." + +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." + +"Come, come! that is not fair," said Mr. Lusignan. "He only +compared the situation, not the people." + +"But, papa, the Bible is not to be dragged into the common affairs +of life." + +"Then what on earth is the use of it?" + +"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." + +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?" + +"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. + +Lusignan complied. "First of all, sir, I must tell you they are +confident it is not the lungs, but the liver." + +"The what!" shouted Christopher. + +"Ah!" screamed Rosa. "Oh, don't!--bawling!" + +"And don't you screech," said her father, with a look of misery and +apprehension impartially distributed on the resounding pair. + +"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?" + +"From the liver--they have assured me again and again," said +Lusignan. + +Christopher's face still wore a look of blank amazement, till Rosa +herself confirmed it positively. + +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?" + +These were handed to him. "Good heavens!" said he, "have you taken +all these?" + +"Most of them." + +"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." + +"This is good sense," said Lusignan. "I declare, I--I wish I knew +how to get rid of them." + +"Oh, I'll do that, papa." + +"No, no; it is not worth a rumpus." + +"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." + +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. + +"And suppose they call to see whether you are changing the air?" + +"In that case, papa--'not at home.'" + +The notes were addressed and despatched. + +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." + +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!" + +"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?" + +"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." + +"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." + +"He never discerned it at all," said Rosa, red as fire; "and, what +is more, he never will." + +"I don't want to. I should be very sorry to. I hope it will be +gone in a week." + +"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. + +"Oh, Rosa!" said Christopher, in a voice of tenderest reproach. + +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." + +Rosa made a wry face at this rebuke, and then began to cry quietly. + +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"-- + +"Don't YOU interfere between my father and me," said this +reasonable young lady, now in an ungovernable state of feminine +irritability. + +"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." + +"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." + +"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." + +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." + +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." + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +"You do not mean that. You cannot mean it," said Dr. Staines, +aghast. + +"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." + +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." + +And he left the house in sorrow, and just, but not pettish, +indignation. + +When he was gone, father and daughter looked at each other, and +there was the silence that succeeds a storm. + +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." + +"I say nothing," whispered papa, hoping to still her by example. +This ruse did not succeed. + +"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. + +"You'll break the wire if you don't mind," suggested her father, +piteously. + +"All the better! Why should not wires be broken as well as my +heart? Oh, here she is! Now, Harriet, come here." + +"Yes, miss." + +"And tell the truth. AM I tight-laced?" + +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." + +"There, papa! That will do, Harriet." + +Harriet retired as far as the keyhole; she saw something was up. + +"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!" + +And off she went into hysterics, and began to gulp and choke +frightfully. + +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. + +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. + +"No," said she, "you shall kill me sooner. I should die of shame." + +She added, "Oh, pray, from this hour, never mention his name to me." + +And then she had another cry. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Mr. Wyman's letter:-- + + +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. + +Yours, etc. + + +Dr. Snell's letter:-- + + +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. + +Yours, etc. + + +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. + +"There! there! drink a glass of wine." + +She did, and a tear with it, that ran into the glass like +lightning. + +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. + +"I will not give you that excuse for inflicting him on me again," +said the young hypocrite. + +She kept her word. She got better and better, stronger, brighter, +gayer. + +She took to walking every day, and increasing the distance, till +she could walk ten miles without fatigue. + +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! + +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. + +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?" + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Oh, certainly," said she. "What a selfish girl I am! this is +terribly dull for him." + +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." + +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." + +"Oh, never mind his estates," said Rosa, "he dances like an angel, +and gossips charmingly, and IS so nice." + +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. + +The inward contest wore him. He began to look very thin and wan; +and all for a Simpleton! + +Mr. Falcon prolonged his stay in the neighborhood, and drove a +handsome dogcart over twice a week to visit Mr. Lusignan. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +She had nearly cleared the town before Falcon came up with her. + +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. + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +Rosa cried "Oh!" and put up her hands to her face in lovely +confusion, coloring like a peony. + +"I beg your pardon," said Christopher, stiffly, but in a voice that +trembled. + +"No," said Rosa, "it was I ran against you. I walk so fast now. +Hope I did not hurt you." + +"Hurt me?" + +"Well, then, frighten you?" + +No answer. + +"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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + + +"You are better, Miss Lusignan." + +"Better, Dr. Staines? I am health itself thanks to--hem!" + +"Our estrangement has agreed with you?" This very bitterly. + +"You know very well it is not that. Oh, please don't make me cry +in the streets." + +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. + +"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." + +"That depends on temper, and nerves, and things," said Rosa, +deprecatingly; then softly, "I could bear anything from you now." + +"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." + +"It is a story, a wicked story," cried Rosa, thoroughly alarmed. +"Me, a lover! He dances like an angel; I can't help that." + +"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. + +Rosa changed color, and her eyes fell a moment. "Ask papa," she +said. "His father was an old friend of papa's." + +"Rosa, you are prevaricating. Young men do not call on old +gentlemen when there is an attractive young lady in the house." + +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?" + +"Not I; I only hear what people say." + +"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." + +"Should I?" said Christopher, puzzled. "What?" + +"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." + +"May I inquire for what?" + +"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." + +"Took off whom?--Oh, I understand. You did? Then you ARE a good +girl." + +"Didn't I tell you I was? A good, obedient girl, and anything but +a flirt." + +"I don't say that." + +"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." + +"I'll do both," said Christopher, taking her in his arms. "I beg +your pardon, and I forgive you." + +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." + +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. + +"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!" + +"Did I ever call you that?" asked Christopher, reproachfully. + +"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." + +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." + +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. + +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. + +The lovers parted, and Christopher went home like one who has +awakened from a hideous dream to daylight and happiness. + +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. + +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." + +She did receive him though: at all events, the dogcart stood at the +door, and its master remained inside. + +Christopher stood, and counted the minutes: five, ten, fifteen, +twenty minutes, and still the dogcart stood there. + +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. + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Phoebe Dale stared at her, and then turned pale as ashes. She was +paralyzed, and could not find her tongue. + +"Why, what is the matter now?" said the other, sharply. + +"Are you married to Reginald Falcon?" + +"Of course I am. Look at my wedding-ring." + +"Then I am not wanted here," faltered Phoebe, ready to sink on the +floor. + +"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. + +"Not drink; only a breaking heart," said she, in her low, mellow +voice that few could resist. + +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. + +It was night when he appeared. She seized him by the breast, and +taxed him with his villany. + +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. + +Phoebe told him to please himself: he must part with one or the +other. + +"Don't talk nonsense," said this man of brass; "I'll un-Falcon her +on the spot." + +"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. + +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. + +Her peace was not to endure long. He was detected in an intrigue +in the very village. + +The insult struck so home that Phoebe herself, to her parents' +satisfaction, ordered him out of the house at once. + +But, when he was gone, she had fits of weeping, and could settle to +nothing for a long time. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +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. + +No wonder three years of this had drawn a tell-tale wrinkle across +the polished brow. + + +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. + +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." + +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. + +She confronted him in threatening silence for some time, during +which he prepared his defence. + +"So it is a LADY this time," said she, in her low, rich voice, +sternly. + +"Is it?" + +"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." + +"Phoebe," said the egotist, "I will not try to deceive you. You +have often said you are my true friend." + +"And I think I have proved it." + +"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." + +She gave him one majestic, indescribable look, that made even his +callous heart quiver, and turned away. + +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. + +After enduring it a long time with a silent shudder, she turned and +shook him fiercely off her like some poisonous reptile. + +"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. + +He colored up and looked spiteful enough; but he soon recovered his +cynical egotism, and went off whistling an operatic passage. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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?" + +"No; I am sure you are not, or you would never have given me the +encouragement you have." + +"Oh, all engaged young ladies flirt--a little; and everybody here +knows I am engaged to Dr. Staines." + +"Why, I never saw him here." + +Rosa's tact was a quality that came and went; so she blushed, and +faltered out, "We had a little tiff, as lovers will." + +"And you did me the honor to select me as cat's-paw to bring him on +again. Was not that rather heartless?" + +Rosa's fitful tact returned to her. + +"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." + +And with this she turned on the waters of the Nile, better known to +you, perhaps, as "crocodile tears." + +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." + +He bowed ceremoniously and left her. + +"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?" + +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. + +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. + +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." + +The crowd cheered him for his spirit. + +He got down, lit a cigar, chaffed the officer and the crowd, and +was, on the whole, admired. + +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. + +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." + +"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." + +"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." + +"Why, it is only twenty-six pounds. I have paid the rest." + +"More than that; there's the costs." + +"Come in, and I'll settle it." + +"All right, sir. Jem, watch the back." + +"Oh, I shall not try that game with a sharp hand like you, +Cartwright." + +"You had better not, sir," said Cartwright; but he was softened a +little by the compliment. + +When they were alone, Falcon began by saying it was a bad job for +him. + +"Why, I thought you was a-going to pay it all in a moment." + +"I can't; but I have got a friend over the way that could, if she +chose. She has always got money, somehow." + +"Oh, if it is a she, it is all right." + +"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." + +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. + +"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." + +"Not you," said Phoebe, sullenly. + +"Indeed I have. After our quarrel, I started to propose to her; +but I had not the heart; I came back and left her." + +"Time will show. If it is not her, it will be some other, you +false, heartless villain." + +"Come, I say, don't be so hard on me in trouble. I am going to +prison." + +"So I suppose." + +"Ah! but it is worse than you think. I am only taken for a paltry +thirty pounds or so." + +"Thirty-three, fifteen, five," suggested Cartwright, in a muffled +whisper, his mouth being full of biscuit. + +"But once they get me to a sponging-house, detainers will pour in, +and my cruel creditors will confine me for life." + +"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." + +"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." + +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." + +Then she began to cry. + +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." + +He withdrew from the window with another deep sigh, told +Cartwright, cheerfully, it was all right, and proceeded to pack up +his traps. + +Meantime Phoebe sat at her window and cried bitterly. Her words +had been braver than her heart. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Cartwright was human, and muttered some words of regret that a poor +fellow must do his duty. + +"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." + +"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." + +"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." + +"Ye mustn't do that anyway. While there's life there's hope." + +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. + + +Mr. Lusignan found his daughter in tears. + +"Why, what is the matter now?" said he, a little peevishly. "We +have had nothing of this sort of thing lately." + +"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!" + +"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." + +"Oh, papa! what are you saying? Would you have me marry one man +when I belong to another?" + +"But you don't belong to any one except to me." + +"Oh, yes; I do. I belong to my dear Christopher." + +"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." + +"Yes, but he has apologized." + +"What for? being treated like a dog?" + +"Oh, don't say so, papa! At all events, he has apologized, as a +gentleman should whenever--whenever"-- + +"Whenever a lady is in the wrong." + +"Don't, papa; and I have asked him to dinner." + +"With all my heart. I shall be downright glad to see him again. +You used him abominably." + +"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?" + +"Hate 'em!" + +"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." + +"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?" + +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"-- + +"With the bottle. Ay, that's true; when the wine is in, the wit is +out." + +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. + +Dr. Staines was punctual. Mr. Lusignan commented favorably on +that. + +"He always is," said Rosa, eagerly. + +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. + +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. + +It inspired him with the courage of lions, and he commenced the +attack at once. + + +CHAPTER V. + + +"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." + +"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." + +"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." + +"Will you hand me over a sum sufficient to pay that premium for +five years?" + +"With pleasure." + +"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." + +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?" + +"Yes, you may tell her," said Lusignan, with a smile. "Stop--what +are you going to tell her?" + +"That you consent, sir. God bless you! God bless you! Oh!" + +"Yes, but that I advise you to wait." + +"I'll tell her all," said Staines, and rushed out even as he spoke, +and upset a heavy chair with a loud thud. + +"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. + +"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." + +The old gentleman prophesied truly; from that moment he had no +peace till he withdrew all semblance of dissent, and even of +procrastination. + +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. + +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. + +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: + + +"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." + + +Rosa looked sore puzzled again. "Papa," said she, timidly, "have +we any friend that is--a little--deranged?" + +"A lot." + +"Oh, then, that accounts." + +"Why no, love," said Christopher. "I have heard of much learning +making a man mad, but never of much good sense." + +"What! Do you call this sensible?" + +"Don't you?" + +"I'll read it again," said Rosa. "Well--yes--I declare--it is not +so mad as I thought; but it is very eccentric." + +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." + +"Pewter!" cried Rosa. "No such thing! It's nickel. What is +nickel, I wonder?" + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +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. + +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?" + +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. + +They returned, then, from their honey tour, and Staines, who was +methodical and kept a diary, made the following entry therein:-- + +"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." + +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." + +"Florence!" cried Rosa, starting up. + +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. + +"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. + +Christopher smiled good-naturedly, and said, "I dare say you ladies +have a good deal to say to each other." + +"Oceans," said Rosa. + +"I will go and hunt houses again." + +"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." + +"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?" + +"Oh, no! I had it by me. I bought it at Brussels on our wedding +tour: it is dearer there than in London." + +She said this as if "dearer" and "better" were synonymous. + +"But about your house, Rosie dear?" + +"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." + +Florence rewarded her with a kiss. + +"The house," said Rosa. "Oh, he has seen one in Portman Street, +and one in Gloucester Place." + +"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." + +"Must he?" + +"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." + +"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." + +"That is the fashion." + +"Oh!" + +And after that big word there was no more to be said. + +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." + +"Yes, dear, that must be the best way, one would think." + +"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." + +"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. + +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. + +But Rosa told him that would never do; a physician must be in the +fashionable part of the town. + +"Eventually," said Christopher; "but surely at first starting--and +you know they say little boats should not go too far from shore." + +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. + +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. + +Christopher told him these were quite beyond the mark. "Very +well," said the agent. "Then I'll show you a Bijou." + +Rosa clapped her hands. "That is the thing for us. We don't want +a large house, only a beautiful one, and in Mayfair." + +"Then the Bijou will be sure to suit you." + +He took them to the Bijou. + +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. + +Rosa was in ecstasies. "It is a nest," said she. + +"It is a bank-note," said the agent, stimulating equal enthusiasm, +after his fashion. "You can always sell the lease again for more +money." + +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?" + +"Always a premium in Mayfair, sir. A lease is property here: the +gentleman is not acquainted with this part, madam." + +"Oh, yes, he is," said Rosa, as boldly as a six years' wife: "he +knows everything." + +"Then he knows that a house of this kind at a hundred and thirty +pounds a year in Mayfair is a bank-note." + +Staines turned to Rosa. "The poor patients, where am I to receive +them?" + +"In the stable," suggested the house agent. + +"Oh!" said Rosa, shocked. + +"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." + +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. + +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." + +"And there's room for them to eat it--in the road," said Staines. + +The agent reminded him there were larger places to be had, by a +very simple process, viz., paying for them. + +Staines thought of the large, comfortable house in Harewood Square. +"One hundred and thirty pounds a year for this poky little hole?" +he groaned. + +"Why, it is nothing at all for a Bijou." + +"But it is too much for a bandbox." + +Rosa laid her hand on his arm, with an imploring glance. + +"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." + +"Can't be done without, sir." + +"Well, I'll give a hundred pounds and no more." + +"Impossible, sir." + +"Then good morning. Now, dearest, just come and see the house at +Harewood Square,--eighty-five pounds and no premium." + +"Will you oblige me with your address, doctor?" said the agent. + +"Dr. Staines, Morley's Hotel." + +And so they left Mayfair. + +Rosa sighed and said, "Oh, the nice little place; and we have lost +it for two hundred pounds." + +"Two hundred pounds is a great deal for us to throw away." + +"Being near the Coles would soon have made that up to you: and such +a cosey little nest." + +"Well the house will not run away." + +"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. + +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. + +Rosa was delighted, and as soon as dinner was over, and the waiters +gone, she came and kissed Christopher. + +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." + +"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. + +Rosa acquiesced, and told Christopher he was the cleverest man in +England. + +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." + +"Yes, but," said Christopher, "I should not like my wife to +encounter a public room." + +"Not alone, of course; but with me. La! Dr. Staines, they are too +full of buying and selling to trouble their heads about us." + +"Oh, Christopher, do let me go with her. Am I always to be a +child?" + +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." + +"Won't you come with us?" + +"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." + +This was Wednesday. There was a weekly sale in Oxford Street on +Fridays; and the ladies made the appointment accordingly. + +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." + +Rosa's eyes sparkled. + +"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." + +"And did he? You never showed me his letter." + +"You were not my wife then. I kept an affront from you; but now, +you see, I keep nothing." + +"Dear Christie!" + +"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." + +"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." + +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. + +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." + +They left their cards and address; and she persuaded Christopher to +take her to the sale-room to see the things. + +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. + +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. + +"I think I shall come with you to-morrow," said Christopher, "or I +shall have these blackguards pestering you." + +"Oh, Florry will send them to the right-about. She is as brave as +a lion." + +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. + +Meantime, his wife and Mrs. Cole had gone to the auction-room. + +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. + +"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. + +Mrs. Staines let down half her veil, but Mrs. Cole surveyed the +company point-blank. + +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. + +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. + +The auctioneer called "Lot 7. Four saucepans, two trays, a kettle, +a bootjack, and a towel-horse." + +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. + +"The lady on the left!" said the auctioneer to his clerk. That +meant "Get the money." + +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." + +"Didn't I tell you?" said Mrs. Cole. + +Soon after this the superior lots came on, and six very neat +bedroom chairs were sold to all appearance for fifteen shillings. + +The next lot was identical, and Rosa hazarded a bid,--"Sixteen +shillings." + +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." + +"Nineteen," said Rosa. + +"A guinea," said the dealer. + +"Don't let it go," said the broker behind her. "Don't let it go, +ma'am." + +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?" + +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." + +Rosa did not reply, but looked at Mrs. Cole. + +"Yes, dear," said that lady; "you had much better let him bid for +you." + +"Very well," said Rosa; "you can bid for this chest of drawers--lot +25." + +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. + +The next thing she wanted was a set of oak chairs. + +They went up to twenty-eight pounds; then she said, "I shall give +no more, sir." + +"Better not lose them," said the agent; "they are a great bargain;" +and bid another pound for her on his own responsibility. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +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. + +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?" + +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. + +And so they retired. + +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. + +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. + +"Twenty-two," cried the dealer. + +"Too late," said the auctioneer. + +"I spoke with the hammer, sir." + +"After the hammer, Isaacs." + +"Shelp me God, we was together." + +One or two more of his tribe confirmed this pious falsehood, and +clamored to have them put up again. + +"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." + +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. + +"Why, it is them," cried the old gentleman. "Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!" + +Rosa colored all over, and felt guilty somehow, and looked +miserable. + +"Rosa dear," said Dr. Staines, "this is our Uncle Philip." + +"Oh!" said Rosa, and turned red and pale by turns; for she had a +great desire to propitiate Uncle Philip. + +"You were in the auction-room, sir?" said Mrs. Cole, severely. + +"I was, madam. He! he!" + +"Furnishing a house?" + +"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?" + +"No. Yes; a great traveller, isn't he? Discovered the Nile--or +the Niger--or SOMETHING?" + +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." + +Rosa's face began to work piteously. + +"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!" + +His mirth was interrupted by Rosa going to her husband, hiding her +head on his shoulder, and meekly crying. + +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." + +"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. + +"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." + +"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." + +Uncle Philip smiled and looked pleased. + +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. + +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." + +Christopher groaned. "That is the place, I fear." + +"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." + +Uncle Philip went away crusty, leaving the young couple finely +mortified and discouraged. + +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." + +"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." + +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." + +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. + +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. + +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"-- + +"I'll take the law, if you do." + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +She was trembling like an aspen. + +"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!" + +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." + +"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." + +"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." + +"Oh, that is what you admire, is it?" said Rosa dryly. + +"Admire it?" said Christopher, not seeing the trap; "I adore it." + +"Then, Christie, dear, you are a Simpleton, that is all. And we +are made for one another." + +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. + +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." + +When Rosa, blushing and amazed at her own boldness, uttered these +words, she little foresaw their effect. She had touched a popular +sore. + +"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?" + +"It has been complained of in the papers again and again," said +another. + +"What! mayn't we live as well as you?" retorted a broker. + +"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." + +Then there was a downright clamor of discussion and chaff. + +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. + +"No, no," said the auctioneer, "that will not do. I will have no +disturbance here. Call the policeman." + +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. + +"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." + +"This auction-room will be to let soon," said a voice at the end of +the table. + +"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." + +A Jew upholsterer put in his word. "I do my own business; but I +like to let a poor man live." + +"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." + +Rosa bid timidly for one or two lots, and bought them cheap. + +The auctioneer kept looking her way, and she had only to nod. + +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. + +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. + +"Lot '73, an armchair covered in morocco. An excellent and useful +article. Should not be at all surprised if it was made by Gillow." + +"Gillow would though," said Jacobs, who owed him a turn. + +Chorus of dealers.--"Haw! haw!" + +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?" + +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. + +There was a momentary pause of amazement, and then an outburst of +chaff. + +"Nice little boy!" + +"Didn't he say his lesson well?" + +"Favor us with your card, sir. You are a gent as knows how to +buy." + +"What did he stop for? If it's worth ten, it is worth a hundred." + +"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." + +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. + +"Sentiment always costs money," said Mr. Jacobs, gravely. + +"How do you know?" asked Mr. Cohen. "Have YOU got any on hand? I +never seen none at your shop." + +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." + +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?" + +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." + +Rosa did so, and found that it was true. + +She nodded to Uncle Philip; and, with her expressive face, asked +him what she should do. + +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." + +The next article but one was a drawing-room suite Rosa wanted; but +the auctioneer bid against her; so at eighteen pounds she stopped. + +"It is against you, madam," said the auctioneer. + +"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." + +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. + +"That's into your mutton, governor." + +"Sharp's the word this time." + +"I say, governor, don't you want a broker to bid for ye?" + +"Wink at me next time, sir; I'll do the office for you." + +"No greenhorns left now." + +"That lady won't give a ten-pund note for her grandfather's +armchair." + +"Oh, yes, she will, if it's stuffed with banknotes." + +"Put the next lot up with the owner's name and the reserve price. +Open business." + +"And sing a psalm at starting." + +"A little less noise in Judaea, if you please," said the +auctioneer, who had now recovered from the blow. "Lot 97." + +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. + +"Your own price." + +"Two pounds," said Rosa. + +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. + +"This time it is your own friend, the snipe-nosed woman. She +telegraphed a broker." + +Rosa read, and crushed the note. "Six guineas," said she. + +"Six-ten." + +"Seven." + +"Seven-ten." + +"Eight." + +"Eight-ten." + +"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. + +"Eleven pounds." + +"Twelve." + +"Thirteen." + +"Fourteen." + +"Sixteen." + +"Eighteen." + +"Twenty." + +"Twenty guineas." + +"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. + +Then she rose and stalked away. + +Dumfounded for the moment, Mrs. Cole followed her, and stopped her +at the door. + +"Why, Rosie dear, it is the only thing I have bid for. There I've +sat by your side like a mouse." + +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." + +"Mean, indeed!" said. Florence, tossing her head. + +"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." + +"And I say you are an impudent little minx. Only just married, and +going about like two vagabonds, and talk to me like that!" + +"We are not going about like two vagabonds. We have taken a house +in Mayfair." + +"Say a stable." + +"It was by your advice, you false-hearted creature." + +"You are a fool." + +"You are worse; you are a traitress." + +"Then don't you have anything to do with me." + +"Heaven forbid I should, you treacherous thing!" + +"You insolent--insolent--I hate you." + +"And I despise you." + +"I always hated you at bottom." + +"That's why you pretended to love me, you wretch." + +"Well, I pretend no more. I am your enemy for life." + +"Thank you. You have told the truth for once in your life." + +"I have. And he shall never call in your husband; so you may leave +Mayfair as soon as you like." + +"Not to please you, madam. We can get on without traitors." + +And so they parted, with eyes that gleamed like tigers. + +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." + +"She is no friend of mine. We are enemies for life." + +"And you were to be friends till death," said Staines, with a sigh. + +Philip inquired who she was. + +"Mrs. John Cole." + +"Not of Curzon Street?" + +"Yes." + +"And you have quarrelled with her?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, but her husband is a general practitioner." + +"She is a traitress." + +"But her husband could put a good deal of money in Christopher's +way." + +"I can't help it. She is a traitress." + +"And you have quarrelled with her about an old wardrobe." + +"No, for her disloyalty, and her base good-for-nothingness. Oh! +oh! oh!" + +Uncle Philip got up, looking sour. "Good afternoon, Mrs. +Christopher," said he, very dryly. + +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." + +"Uncle Philip, since you only come here to insult us, I hope in +future you will stay at home." + +"Oh! with pleasure, sir. Good-by!" + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +Christopher Staines came back, looking pained and disturbed. +"There," said he, "I feared it would come to this. I have +quarrelled with Uncle Philip." + +"Oh! how could you?" + +"He affronted me." + +"What about?" + +"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." + +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. + +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: + +"Oh! sir, surely you will not take all that money from him, poor +child, for a rickety old chair." + +The auctioneer stared with amazement at her simplicity, and said, +"What would the vendors say to me?" + +She looked distressed, and said, "Well, then, really we ought to +raise a subscription, poor thing!" + +"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." + +"Oh! left a deposit, did he?" + +"No, sir. But the laughing hyena gave you five pounds at the end +of the sale." + +"The laughing hyena, Mr. Jones?" + +"Oh! beg pardon; that is what we call him in the room. He has got +such a curious laugh." + +"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." + +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." + +"It WAS cruel of him," said Rosa, altering her mind in a moment, +and half inclined to cry. + +This made Christopher furious. "The ill-natured, crotchety, old-- +the fact is, he is a misogynist." + +"Oh, the wretch!" said Rosa warmly. "And what is that?" + +"A woman-hater." + +"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." + +"All of them?" inquired Christopher, a little satirically. "Read +the papers." + +"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." + +Disagreeable creatures to have about one--these simpletons! + +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. + +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. + +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." + +"Oh, impossible!" said Rosa. "Oh, dear! why did I ever enter a +saleroom?" + +"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." + +"What a waste of money!" + +"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." + +"And it was to please her we settled here. Oh, I could kill her: +nasty cat!" + +"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.'" + +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. + +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. + +Not a creature came. + +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. + +"Oh, they won't come any more for our staying in--tiresome things!" +said Rosa. + +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." + +"What, after that Florence Cole?" + +"Write to those who have not made such violent professions." + +"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?" + +"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." + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Christopher heard the sigh; and pressed her arm, and said, +"Courage, love, I hope to see you among them yet." + +"The sooner the better," said she, a little hardly. + +"And, meantime, which of them all is as beautiful as you?" + +"All I know is, they are more attractive. Who looks at me, walking +tamely by?" + +Christopher said nothing: but these words seemed to imply a thirst +for admiration, and made him a little uneasy. + +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." + +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. + +"No, Sir." + +"Surely you are mistaken, Jane. A gentleman in a carriage!" + +"Not a creature have been since you went out, sir." + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +He was shown into the dining-room, and told Jane he had come to +consult the doctor. + +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." + +Dr. Staines kissed her first, and then asked who was come. + +"Oh, nobody of any consequence. ONLY the first patient. Kiss me +again." + +Dr. Staines kissed her again, and then was for going to the first +patient. + +"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." + +"You had better have kept that to yourself, I think." + +"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?" + +"If you really want one." + +On the patient's card was "Mr. Pettigrew, 47 Manchester Square." + +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." + +To stop him, Staines requested to feel his pulse, and examine his +tongue and eye. + +"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." + +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. + +Staines listened politely. He could afford it, having only this +one. + +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." + +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." + +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. + +The first patient called every other day, chattered nineteen to the +dozen, was exhausted, drank two glasses of sherry, and drove away. + +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? + +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. + +Collett did not answer. + +Staines wrote warmly. + +Collett dead silent. + +Staines employed a solicitor. + +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. + +Now her husband was the mate of a ship; would not be in England for +eighteen months. + +The woman, visited by lawyer's clerk, cried bitterly, and said she +and her children had scarcely enough to eat. + +Lawyer advised Staines to abandon the case, and pay him two pounds +fifteen shillings expenses. He did so. + +"This is damnable," said he. "I must get it out of Pettigrew; by- +the-by, he has not been here this two days." + +He waited another day for Pettigrew, and then wrote to him. No +answer. Called. Pettigrew gone abroad. House in Manchester +Square to let. + +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. + +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. + +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?" + +"Heaven forbid!" said Rosa. "Oh, they use you cruelly, my poor, +poor Christie!" + +Thus for months the young doctor's patients bled him, and that was +all. + +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. + +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. + +Christopher frowned, but contained himself, and laid down the pen. + +"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." + +Dr. Staines shook his head. + +"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?" + +"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." + +"Then all I can say is, I wish I was back in my father's house. +Husband! friend! companion!--I have none." + +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. + +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?" + +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:-- + +A boy in buttons gasped out, "Oh, if you please, will you ast the +doctor to come round directly; there's a haccident." + +"La, bless me!" said Jane, and never budged. + +"Yes, miss. It's our missus's little girl fallen right off an +i-chair, and cut her head dreadful, and smothered in blood." + +"La, to be sure!" And she waited steadily for more. + +"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." + +"That is all SHE knows," said Jane. "Why, our master--they pulls +him in pieces which is to have him fust." + +"What an awful liar! Oh, you good girl!" whispered Dr. Staines and +Rosa in one breath. + +"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." + +"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. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +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." + +"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." + +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. + +Then did Mrs. Staines turn jealous of her husband. "They never ask +me," said she; "and I am moped to death." + +"It is hard," said Christopher, sadly. "But have a little +patience. Society will come to you long before practice comes to +me." + +About two o'clock one afternoon a carriage and pair drove up, and a +gorgeous footman delivered a card--"Lady Cicely Treherne." + +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. + +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. + +"O Lady Cicely," said Rosa, "how kind of you to come." + +"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. + +"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." + +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. + +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." + +"The idea! and--oh no! no! it is not that. But even in the country +we had always some society." + +"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." + +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." + +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." + +"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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +At last she opened her mouth in a whisper, "What is he doing?" + +"Waiting for patients." + +"Oh! Waiting--for--patients?" + +"For patients that never come, and never will come." + +"Cuwious! How little I know of life." + +"It is that all day, dear, or else writing." + +Lady Cicely, with her eyes fixed on Staines, made a motion with her +hand that she was attending. + +"And they won't publish a word he writes." + +"Poor man!" + +"Nice for me; is it not?" + +"I begin to understand," said Lady Cicely quietly; and soon after +retired with her invariable composure. + +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. + +All these hints fell dead on Mrs. Lucas. A handsome and skilful +doctor was welcome to her: his wife--that was quite another matter. + +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. + +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." + +When Staines carried the invitation to his wife, she was delighted, +and kissed him with childish frankness. + +But the very next moment she became thoughtful, uneasy, depressed. +"Oh, dear; I've nothing to wear." + +"Oh, nonsense, Rosa. Your wedding outfit." + +"The idea! I can't go as a bride. It's not a masquerade." + +"But you have other dresses." + +"All gone by, more or less; or not fit for such parties as SHE +gives. A hundred carriages!" + +"Bring them down, and let me see them." + +"Oh yes." And the lady, who had nothing to wear, paraded a very +fair show of dresses. + +Staines saw something to admire in all of them. Mrs. Staines found +more to object to in each. + +At last he fell upon a silver-gray silk, of superlative quality. + +"That! It is as old as the hills," shrieked Rosa. + +"It looks just out of the shop. Come, tell the truth; how often +have you worn it?" + +"I wore it before I was married." + +"Ay, but how often?" + +"Twice. Three times, I believe." + +"I thought so. It is good as new." + +"But I have had it so long by me. I had it two years before I made +it up." + +"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." + +"I am afraid not," said Rosa naively. "Oh, how I wish I had known +a week ago." + +"I am very thankful you did not," said Staines dryly. + +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. + +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. + +They had not taken many steps, on the chance of finding their +hostess, when a slight buzz arose, and seemed to follow them. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +"Miss Lucas," said Staines. + +She jerked a little off-hand bow to him, and said, "Will you trust +her to me for five minutes?" + +"Certainly." But he did not much like it. + +Miss Lucas carried her off, and told Dr. Staines, over her +shoulder, now he could flirt to his heart's content. + +"Thank you," said he dryly. "I'll await your return." + +"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. + +"Oh, how heavenly!" said Rosa, with a sigh of relief; "and how good +of you to bring me here!" + +"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." + +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?" + +"Oh no; but I'm afraid we must go into the hot-house again. I like +the greenhouse best, with such a nice companion." + +They slipped noiselessly into the throng again, and wriggled about, +Miss Lucas presenting her new friend to several ladies and +gentlemen. + +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." + +"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. + +"It is too bad to mock me, Christie. Where were your eyes?" + +"To the best of my recollection, they were one on each side of my +nose." + +"Yes, but some people are eyes and no eyes." + +"I scorn the imputation; try me." + +"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?" + +"I did; a tall, skinny woman, with eyes resembling her jewels in +color, though not in brightness." + +"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!" + +"I did, love. The room was an oven, but her rubicund face and +suffocating costume made it seem a furnace." + +"Stuff! Well, did you see the lady in the corn-colored silk, and +poppies in her hair?" + +"Of course I did. Ceres in person. She made me feel hot, too; but +I cooled myself a bit at her pale, sickly face." + +"Never mind their faces; that is not the point." + +"Oh, excuse me; it is always a point with us benighted males, all +eyes and no eyes." + +"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." + +"It was very refreshing; and adapted to that awful atmosphere. It +was the nearest approach to nudity I ever saw, even amongst +fashionable people." + +"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!" + +"And oh! oh! oh! her nose! reddish, and as long as a woodcock's." + +"Noses! noses! stupid! That is not what strikes you first in a +woman dressed like an angel." + +"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." + +"Now, don't, Christopher. This is no laughing matter. Do you mean +you were not ashamed of your wife? I was." + +"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." + +"I never even saw her." + +"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." + +"Beauty! That passes unnoticed, unless one is well dressed." + +"Then what an obscure pair the Apollo Belvidere and the Venus de +Medicis must be." + +"Oh! they are dressed--in marble." + +Christopher Staines stared first, then smiled. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +"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." + +So she continued to nag at her husband about it, and to say that he +was throwing his only chance away. + +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." + +"Oh! Then we shall go splashing through the mud all our days." + +"Or ride in a cab," said Christopher, with a quiet doggedness that +left no hope of his yielding. + +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." + +"Oh!" cried she, "give me a glass." + +"There is no need of that. All you want is a basin and some nice +rain-water. I keep a little reservoir of it." + +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. + +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." + +"You are a pest," said Mrs. Staines, and so joined her friend, rosy +with rain-water and a rub. + +"Dear me, how handsome you look to-day!" was Miss Lucas's first +remark. + +Rosa never dreamed that rain-water and rub could be the cause of +her looking so well. + +"It is my tiresome husband," said she. "He objects to powder, and +he has taken away my puff." + +"And you stood that?" + +"Obliged to." + +"Why, you poor-spirited little creature, I should like to see a +husband presume to interfere with me in those things. Here, take +mine." + +Rosa hesitated a little. "Well--no--I think not." + +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. + +"You treat me like a child--taking away my very puff." + +"I treat you like a beautiful flower, that no bad gardener shall +wither whilst I am here." + +"What nonsense! How could that wither me? It is only violet +powder--what they put on babies." + +"And who are the Herods that put it on babies?" + +"Their own mothers, that love them ten times more than the fathers +do." + +"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." + +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. + +"Put another spoonful of flour." + +The one spoonful of violet powder outweighed the two of flour. + +"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." + +"La! what a fuss about nothing!" + +"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." + +"Very well, I promise. Now what will you do for me?" + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +Lady Cicely shook her head. "Clevaa people don't talk so much +nonsense before strangaas." + +"Oh, dear!" said Rosa. "I was in hopes you would like her." + +"Do YOU like her?" + +"Indeed I do; but I shall not, if she drives an older friend away." + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Dr. Staines, I think?" + +He bowed. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +At last, without removing his eye from the recumbent figure, he +said quietly to Mr. White, "Thrown from his horse, sir." + +"Horse fell on him, Dr. Staines." + +"Any visible injuries?" + +"Yes. Severe contusions, and a rib broken and pressed upon the +lungs. I replaced and set it. Will you see?" + +"If you please." + +He examined and felt the patient, and said it had been ably done. + +Then he was silent and searching. + +At last he spoke again. "The motion of the thumbs corresponds +exactly with his pulse." + +"Is that so, sir?" + +"It is. The case is without a parallel. How long has he been so?" + +"Nearly a week." + +"Impossible!" + +"It is so, sir." + +Lady Cicely confirmed this. + +"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." + +Lady Cicely demurred a little to this; but Dr. Staines stood firm, +and his lordship's valet undertook the job. + +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. + +"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." + +Mr. White's eyes sparkled. + +"You are an hospital surgeon, sir?" + +"Yes, Dr. Staines. I have no fear of the operation." + +"Then I hand the patient over to you. The case at present is +entirely surgical." + +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. + +"That is only HABIT," said Staines; "it will soon leave off, now +the cause is gone." + +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. + +Lady Cicely clasped her hands, and uttered a little cry of delight. + +"This will not do," said Staines, "I shall have you screaming when +he speaks." + +"Oh, Dr. Staines! will he ever speak?" + +"I think so, and very soon. So be on your guard." + +This strange scene reached its climax soon after, by the earl +saying, quietly,-- + +"Are her knees broke, Tom?" + +Lady Cicely uttered a little scream, but instantly suppressed it. + +"No, my lord," said Staines, smartly; "only rubbed a bit. You can +go to sleep, my lord. I'll take care of the mare." + +"All right," said his lordship; and composed himself to slumber. + +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. + +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." + +Lady Cicely received all this like an oracle. + +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." + +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. + +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. + +He bowled up to London, and told it all to Rosa. She sparkled with +pride, affection, and joy. + +"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." + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Having culminated to that, he wrote and proposed marriage to Miss +Dale, in a charming letter: she showed it to her father with pride. + +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. + +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." + +The farmer made a wry face. "Painter! that is a sorry sort of a +trade." + +"You are mistaken. It's the best trade going. There are gentlemen +making their thousands a year by it." + +"Not in our parts, there bain't. Stop a bit. What be ye going to +paint, sir? Housen, or folk?" + +"Oh, hang it, not houses. Figures, landscapes." + +"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." + +"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?" + +"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." + +Falcon agreed, with a lofty smile; and the purchases were made. + +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. + +"The world has no taste," said the gentleman painter: "but it has +got lots of vanity: I'll paint portraits." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +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. + +"With all my heart, wench," said he; "but it must not be thou. I +can't spare thee." + +"May I have Dick, father?" + +"Dick! he is rather young." + +"But he is very quick, father, and minds every word I tell him." + +"Ay, he is as fond of thee as ever a cow was of a calf. Well, you +can try him." + +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. + +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? + +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. + +He found it perfectly pure, and told her so; and gazed at Phoebe +for a moment, as a phenomenon. + +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." + +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. + +"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." + +"Very well," said Staines: "I will send for them." + +"Thank you kindly, sir. I hope you won't be offended, sir; but we +only sell for ready money." + +"All the better: my order at home is, no bills." + +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?" + +"Not particklar, sister." + +"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." + +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." + +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. + +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." + +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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +"Of course I will," said Rosa warmly. "I'll sit for it here, any +day you like." + +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. + +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." + +"Oh! what a shame." + +"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." + +Phoebe's great gray eyes filled; and Rosa gave a little coo of +sympathy that was very womanly and lovable. + +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?" + +"It is impossible. He could not be so heartless." + +"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." + +"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." + +"I am sure I should be obliged to you, ma'am." + +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?" + +"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." + +"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!" + +"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." + +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." + +"Are you positive?" + +"I'll stake my existence." + +"What is it worth?" + +"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." + +"Three hundred pounds! It is worth three hundred pounds." + +"Or sell it for more than a hundred and fifty pounds." + +"A hundred and fifty! It is worth a hundred and fifty pounds." + +"Why, my dear, one would think you had invented 'the diamond.' +Show me how to crystallize carbon, and I will share your +enthusiasm." + +"Oh, I leave you to carbonize crystal. I prefer to gladden hearts: +and I will do it this minute, with my diamond." + +"Do, dear; and I will take that opportunity to finish my article on +Adulteration." + +Rosa drove off to Phoebe Dale. + +Now Phoebe was drinking tea with Reginald Falcon, in her little +parlor. "Who is that, I wonder?" said she, when the carriage drew +up. + +Reginald drew back a corner of the gauze curtain which had been +drawn across the little glass door leading from the shop. + +"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. + +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?" + +"Surely," said Phoebe, still troubled and confused by Reginald's +strange agitation. + +"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." + +"Oh!" + +"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!" + +"Oh, ma'am, don't go yet," said Phoebe, trembling. "I haven't half +thanked you." + +"Oh, bother thanks. Kiss me; that is the way." + +"May I?" + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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." + +"I have cause to know her. Cursed jilt!" + +"You seem a good deal put out at the sight of her." + +"It took me by surprise, that is all." + +"It takes me by surprise too. I thought you were cured. I thought +MY turn had come at last." + +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. + +My lord relaxed his frown and consented, and of course they talked +diamond. + +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. + +"Nay, but, my dear," said Phoebe, "they will pay no more because +you have a diamond." + +"Then they will have to go unpainted," said Mr. Falcon. + +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." + +"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." + +"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." + +"Is it yours, or mine?" said he, sulkily. + +"Why yours, dear; you earned it." + +"Then give it me, please." And he almost forced it out of her +hand. + +So now she sat down and cried over this piece of good luck, for her +heart filled with forebodings. + +He laughed at her, but at last had the grace to console her, and +assure her she was tormenting herself for nothing. + +"Time will show," said she, sadly. + +Time did show. + +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. + +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. + +"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!" + +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. + +"Oh, Dick!" she said to him one night, "I wish I had married him." + +"What, to be ill-used?" + +"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." + +"'Tis your own fault, Phoebe, partly. You say the word, and I'll +break every bone in his carcass." + +"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." + +"Hate ME, Phoebe?" + +"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. + +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. + +At one o'clock he was seized with a kind of spasm in the throat +that lasted so long it nearly choked him. + +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. + +"It is hysterical," said the surgeon. "No disease of the heart, is +there? Give him a little sal-volatile every half hour." + +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. + +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!" + +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. + +Dr. Staines told her to hold the patient up. He lost not a moment, +but opened his mouth resolutely, and looked down. + +"The glottis is swollen," said he: then he felt his hands, and +said, with the grave, terrible calm of experience, "He is dying." + +"Oh, no! no! Oh, doctor, save him! save him!" + +"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." + +"Open his windpipe! Oh, doctor! It will kill him. Let me look at +you." + +She looked hard in his face. It gave her confidence. + +"Is it the only chance?" + +"The only one: and it is flying while we chatter." + +"DO IT." + +He whipped out his lancet. + +"But I can't look on it. I trust to you and my Saviour's mercy." + +She fell on her knees, and bowed her head in prayer. + +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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Phoebe nursed him like a mother; and the terror and the joy did her +good, and made her less desolate. + +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. + +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. + +They knew directly what that meant. Phoebe was to be parted from a +bad man, and Dick was to comfort her for the loss. + +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. + +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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +The day drew near. Dick was in high spirits. + +"We shall soon make our fortune out there," he said; "and I'll get +you a good husband." + +She shuddered, but said nothing. + +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. + +She started up with a scream, then sank down again, trembling, and +turned her face to the wall. + +"So you are going to run away from me!" said he savagely. + +"Ay, Reginald," said she meekly. + +"This is your fine love, is it?" + +"You have worn it out, dear," she said softly, without turning her +head from the wall. + +"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." + +"Bless you for saying that, dear. I often thought you MUST find +that out one day; but you took too long." + +"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." + +"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." + +"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!" + +And he began to howl. + +This set Phoebe sobbing. "Don't cry, dear," she murmured through +her tears; "if you have really any love for me, come with me." + +"What, leave England, and go to a desert?" + +"Love can make a desert a garden." + +"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." + +"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." + +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. + +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." + +"Oh, no! no!" she gasped. "Unless you want me to die at your feet. +I am almost dead now." + +Reginald slipped out by the kitchen. + +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. + +She moaned, and he felt her all limp and powerless. + +"What is it, lass? Whatever is the matter? Is it about going +away?" + +She would not speak for a long time. + +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. + +"O Dick--forgive me!" + +"Why, what for?" + +"Forgive me, or else kill me: I don't care which." + +"I do, though. There, I forgive you. Now what's your crime?" + +"I can't go. Forgive me!" + +"Can't go?" + +"I can't. Forgive me!" + +"I'm blessed if I don't believe that vagabond has been here +tormenting of you again." + +"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." + +"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." + +"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. + +"Eh, but women are kittle cattle to drive," said poor Dick +ruefully. And down he sat at a nonplus, and very unhappy. + +Phoebe sat opposite, sullen, heart-sick, wretched to the core; but +determined not to leave Reginald. + +Then came an event that might have been foreseen, yet it took them +both by surprise. + +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." + +Both brother and sister were so unprepared for this, that they +could hardly realize it at first. + +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. + +"Is this real?" said she. + +"I will sail with you to-morrow, Phoebe; and I will make you a good +husband, if you will have me." + +"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." + +"How dare you threaten him?" said Phoebe. "You had best leave the +room." + +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. + +"I say, Dick, how long will this voyage be?" + +"Two months, sir, I am told." + +"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." + +"Well, brother-in-law," said Dick, "I don't see any harm in that. +I'll go and fetch them for you." + +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?" + +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?" + +"Ay, mistress, I understand." + +"Good Dick!" + +"Oh, all right! and then don't you snap this here good, kind Dick's +nose off at a word again." + +"Never. I get wild if anybody threatens him. Then I'm not myself. +Forgive my hasty tongue. You know I love you, dear!" + +"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." + +"Ha, ha, ha, ha!" + +"Oh, ye can laugh now, can ye?" + +"Ha, ha, ha!" + +"Well, the more of that music, the better for me." + +"Yes, dear; but go and tell him." + +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." + +"Oh, that is it, is it?" said Reginald dryly. + +Dick made no reply. + +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. + +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? + +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. + +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." + +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. + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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? + +"Oh, impossible! You cannot think how the servants eat; and they +won't touch our home-made bread." + +"The fools! Why?" + +"Oh, because they think it costs us less. Servants seem to me +always to hate the people whose bread they eat." + +"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?" + +"Dress! Why, I spend nothing." + +"Forty-five pounds this year." + +"Well, I shall want none next year." + +"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." + +Rosa colored a little, but said nothing. + +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. + +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! + +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. + +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. + +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. + +This foolish feeling spurred her to attempt a rivalry with Mrs. +Vivian, in the very things where rivalry was hopeless. + +Miss Lucas gave both ladies tickets for a flower-show, where all +the great folk were to be, princes and princesses, etc. + +"But I have nothing to wear," sighed Rosa. + +"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." + +"Oh, thank you! let me just run and speak to my husband first." + +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. + +He laid down his work, to enjoy the sunbeam of love. + +"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." + +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." + +"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." + +The two ladies drove off to Madame Cie's, a pretty shop lined with +dark velvet and lace draperies. + +In the back room they were packing a lovely bridal dress, going off +the following Saturday to New York. + +"What, send from America to London?" + +"Oh, dear, yes!" exclaimed Madame Cie. "The American ladies are +excellent customers. They buy everything of the best, and the most +expensive." + +"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." + +Madame Cie produced a white muslin polonaise, which she was just +going to send home to the Princess -----, to be worn over mauve. + +"Oh, how pretty and simple!" exclaimed Miss Lucas. + +"I have some lace exactly like that," said Mrs. Staines. + +"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." + +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. + +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." + +"Oh, pray do," said Mrs. Staines. + +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. + +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." + +"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." + +"No one can ever think a lady extravagant for buying a black silk; +it's such a useful dress; lasts forever--almost." + +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. + +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. + +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." + +"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." + +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. + +But there was worse behind. + +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. + +He went to her directly, and expressed his anxiety. + +"Oh, it is nothing," said she. + +"Nothing! Pray, how often has it occurred?" + +"Once or twice. I must take your advice, and be quiet, that is +all." + +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. + +He went down-stairs again, and sat down, looking wretched. + +"Oh, dear!" said Rosa. "What is the matter now?" + +"Rosa," said he, very gravely, "there are two people a woman is mad +to deceive--her husband and her physician. You have deceived +both." + + +CHAPTER X. + + +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. + +"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!" + +"Oh, then, you have been wearing stays clandestinely?" + +"Why, you know I have. Oh, what a stupid! I have let it all out." + +"How could you do it, when you knew, by experience, it is your +death?" + +"But it looks so beautiful, a tiny waist." + +"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." + +"Just tell me one thing; have you looked at Mrs. Vivian?" + +"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"-- + +"Yes, lovely!" + +"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?" + +"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." + +"But you never appeared here in them?" + +"What, before my tyrant? Oh no, I dared not." + +"So you took them off before you came home?" + +Rosa hung her head, and said "Yes" in a reluctant whisper. + +"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." + +"Oh, Christie! I'm so easily led. I am too great a fool to live. +Kill me!" + +And she kneeled down, and renewed the request, looking up in his +face with an expression that might have disarmed Cain ipsum. + +He smiled superior. "The question is, are you sorry you have been +so thoughtless?" + +"Yes, dear. Oh! oh!" + +"Will you be very good to make up?" + +"Oh, yes. Only tell me how; for it does not come natural to poor +me." + +"Keep out of those women's way for the rest of the season." + +"I will." + +"Bring your stays home, and allow me to do what I like with them." + +"Of course. Cut them in a million pieces." + +"Till you are recovered, you must be my patient, and go nowhere +without me." + +"That is no punishment, I am sure." + +"Punishment! Am I the man to punish you? I only want to save +you." + +"Well, darling, it won't be the first time." + +"No; but I do hope it will be the last." + + +CHAPTER XI. + + +"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. + +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. + +Not so Mrs. Staines; for some time she had been uneasy, fretful, +and like a person with a weight on her mind. + +One Sunday she said to him, "Oh, dear, I do feel so dull. Nobody +to go to church with, nor yet to the Zoo." + +"I'll go with you," said Staines. + +"You will! To which?" + +"To both; in for a penny, in for a pound." + +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. + +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. + +No, it was on her back; but Clara's was identical. + +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." + +"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'"-- + +"I can't keep my eyes off her." + +"Attend to the Litany. Do you know, this is really a beautiful +composition?" + +"I'd rather do the work fifty times over myself." + +"Hush! people will hear you." + +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. + +She mourned the hard fate of mistresses--unfortunate creatures that +could not do without servants. + +"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?" + +"No, of course not. But I am a lady, if you please." + +"Then she is your intellectual inferior, and more excusable. +Anyway, it is wise to connive at a thing we can't help." + +"What keep her, after this? no, never." + +"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." + +"To hear you speak, one would think it was my fault that we have so +many bad servants." + +"I never said it was your fault; but I THINK, dearest, a little +more forbearance in trifles"-- + +"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." + +"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." + +"A nice thing, indeed, to give in to these creatures. I won't do +it." + +"Why won't you, this once?" + +"Because I won't--there!" + +"That is unanswerable," said he. + +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. + +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. + +Then the great feminine heart burst its bounds. + +"You can leave that alone. I shall not wear that again." + +Thereupon ensued an uneven encounter, Clara being one of those of +whom the Scripture says, "The poison of asps is under their +tongues." + +"La, ma'am," said she, "why, 'tain't so very dirty." + +"No; but it is too common." + +"Oh, because I've got one like it. Ay. Missises can't abide a +good-looking servant, nor to see 'em dressed becoming." + +"Mistresses do not like servants to forget their place, nor wear +what does not become their situation." + +"My situation! Why, I can pay my way, go where I will. I don't +tremble at the tradesmen's knock, as some do." + +"Leave the room! Leave it this moment." + +"Leave the room, yes--and I'll leave the house too, and tell all +the neighbors what I know about it." + +She flounced out and slammed the door; and Rosa sat down, +trembling. + +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. + +The cook laughed and encouraged her. + +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." + +"It would take a better man than you to do that. You mind your own +business. Stick to your one-horse chay." + +"Well, I'm not above my place, for that matter. But you gals must +always be aping your betters." + +"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." + +"You are a stuck-up hussy, and a soldier's jade," roared Andrew. + +"And you are a low tea-kettle groom." + +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. + +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." + +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. + +The master inquired the cause, and the man told him, and said the +mews was too hot for him. + +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. + +The doctor's heart fairly sank at the prospect of losing the one +creature he could depend upon. + +Next Sunday evening Clara was out, and fell in with friends, to +whom she exaggerated her grievance. + +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." + +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?" + +"I don't care for my wages. I won't stay in such a house as this." + +"Come, you must not be impertinent." + +"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." + +"Mrs. Staines will not search your box; and you will retire at once +to your own part of the house." + +"I'll go farther than that," said she, and soon after the street +door was slammed; the Bijou shook. + +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. + +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. + +Two days afterwards, to his surprise, the summons was served. + +Out of respect for a court of justice, however humble, Dr. Staines +attended next Monday to meet the summons. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Hand me those," said the pig-faced beak. + +"What are they, Dr. Staines?" + +"I really don't know. I must ask my servant." + +"Why, more things of mine that have been detained," said Clara. + +"Some things that have been found since she left," said Staines. + +"Oh! those that hide know where to find." + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +"What, because two things she never demanded have been found and +sent after her? This is monstrous. I shall appeal to your +superiors." + +"If you are impertinent I'll fine you five pounds." + +"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." + +Then the pig-faced beak fired up, and threatened to fine him for +blaspheming. + +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. + +Christopher went home raging internally, for hitherto he had never +seen so gross a case of injustice. + +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." + +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. + +"Well, sir," said one of them, civilly enough, "we only want our +due." + +"For what?" + +"For goods delivered at this house, sir. Balance of account." And +he handed him a butcher's bill, L88, 11s. 5 1/2d. + +"You must be mistaken; we run no bills here. We pay ready money +for everything." + +"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." + +"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. + +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. + +The grocer's books told a similar tale. + +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." + +"No, no," said Christopher; "I'll pay every shilling." He gave one +gulp, and hurried away. + +At the fishmonger's, the same story, only for a smaller amount. + +A bill of nineteen pounds at the very pastrycook's; a place she had +promised him, as her physician, never to enter. + +At the draper's, thirty-seven pounds odd. + +In short, wherever she had dealt, the same system: partial +payments, and ever-growing debt. + +Remembering Madame Cie, he drove in a cab to Regent Street, and +asked for Mrs. Staines's account. + +"Shall I send it, sir?" + +"No; I will take it with me." + +"Miss Edwards, make out Mrs. Staines's account, if you please." + +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. + +The principal items were as follows:-- + + L s. +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 + + +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. + +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:-- + + + L s. + 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 + + +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. + +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. + +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!" + +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. + +"Oh! what is the matter now?" said she. + +"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." + +"What bills? Oh!" + +"You have had an allowance for housekeeping." + +"It wasn't enough." + +"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." + +"Well, all I know is, I couldn't do it: no woman could." + +"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." + +Rosa's eye caught the sum total of Madame Cie's bill, and she +turned pale. "Oh, what a cheat that woman is!" + +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." + +"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." + +"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." + +The words were harsh, but the agony with which they were spoken +distinguished them from vulgar vituperation. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +He kneeled over her, with his eyes dilating and his hands clasped, +a picture of love and tender remorse. + +She stirred. + +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!" + +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. + +"I forgive you, dear," she said feebly. "BUT I HOPE YOU WILL BE A +KINDER FATHER THAN A HUSBAND." + +These quiet words, spoken with rare gravity and softness, went +through the great heart like a knife. + +He gave a sort of shiver, but said not a word. + +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? + + +CHAPTER XII. + + +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. + +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. + +He paid all the bills, and put by a quarter's rent and taxes. Then +there remained of his little capital just ten pounds. + +He went to his printers, and had a thousand order-checks printed. +These forms ran thus:-- + +"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." + +He exhibited these forms, and warned all the tradespeople, before a +witness whom he took round for that purpose. + +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. + +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. + +"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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +He kept no coachman. If he visited a patient, a man in the yard +drove him at a shilling per hour. + +By these means, and by working like a galley slave, he dragged his +expenditure down almost to a level with his income. + +Rosa was quite content at first, and thought herself lucky to +escape reproaches on such easy terms. + +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. + +Rosa came into the study to complain to her husband. + +"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. + +"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. + +He sighed, and went back to his work; she cleared the plate. + +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. + +"But I don't like walking." + +"I am sorry for that. But it is necessary to you, and by and by +your life may depend on it." + +Quietly, but inexorably, he dragged her out walking every day. + +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." + +"You shall," said he, "when I can pay for it," and drew her away. + +The tears of disappointment stood in her eyes, and his heart +yearned over her. But he kept his head. + +He changed the dinner hour to six, and used to go out directly +afterwards. + +She began to complain of his leaving her alone like that. + +"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!" + +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." + +She put on her bonnet, and on the way she asked how it came to be +all in silver. + +"That is a puzzler," said he, "isn't it?" + +"And how did you make it, dear? by writing?" + +"No." + +"By fees from the poor people?" + +"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." + +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! + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +Lady Cicely suggested that perhaps Dr. Staines thought it best for +her to be relieved of all worry, and so undertook the housekeeping. + +"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." + +While Lady Cicely was puzzling this out, in came a letter. Rosa +opened it, read it, and gave a cry like a wounded deer. + +"Oh!" she cried, "I am a miserable woman. What will become of me?" + +The letter informed her bluntly that her husband drove his brougham +out every night to pursue a criminal amour. + +While Rosa was wringing her hands in real anguish of heart, Lady +Cicely read the letter carefully. + +"I don't believe this," said she quietly. + +"Not true! Why, who would be so wicked as to stab a poor, +inoffensive wretch like me, if it wasn't true?" + +"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." + +"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." + +"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?'" + +"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." + +"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." + +Rosa at last consented to follow this advice. + +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. + +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?" + +"No," said she irresolutely. "But DO you drive the brougham out +every night?" + +"Except Sunday." + +"Where?" + +"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." + +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. + +It had one curious effect, though. She left off complaining of +trifles. + +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?" + +It seemed a very superior cab, and Miss Macnamara said "Yes" +directly. + +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! + +He started and winced; but the woman of the world never moved a +muscle. + +"Where to?" said Staines, averting his head. + +She told him where, and when they got out, said, "I'll send it you +by the servant." + +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." + +Next day, and the day after, he asked Rosa, with affected +carelessness, had she heard anything of Lady Cicely. + +"No, dear; but I dare say she will call this afternoon: it is her +day." + +She did call at last, and after a few words with Rosa, became a +little restless, and asked if she might consult Dr. Staines. + +"Certainly, dear. Come to his studio." + +"No; might I see him here?" + +"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. + +Dr. Staines came in, and bowed to Lady Cicely, and eyed her a +little uncomfortably. + +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." + +"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." + +"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.'" + +"Lord forgive you, Lady Cicely." + +"Lord bless her for standing up for my Christie." + +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." + +"Oh, Christie!" + +"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." + +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. + +As for Rosa, she sat sobbing round Christopher's neck, and kissed +him with all her soul. + +"Dear me!" said Christopher. "You are both very kind. But, +begging your pardon, it is much ado about nothing." + +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!" + +"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." + +"Oh, as to that, she shall give you fifteen hundred a year." + +"Then I jump at it." + +"What! and leave ME?" + +"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." + +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. + +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." + +Christopher groaned. + +"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." + +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." + +The lady's pale cheek colored; she stood irresolute a single +moment. "I will see Dr. Staines," said she. + +Dr. Staines came in, looking pale and worn; he had not slept a wink +since she saw him last. + +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. + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + +He told her he had come to thank her for her great kindness, and to +accept the offer. + +She sighed. "I hoped it was to decline it. Think of the misery of +separation, both to you and her." + +"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. + +"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?" + +"I will." + +"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." + +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." + +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. + +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. + +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." + +"What else can you expect, when you part my husband and me?" said +Rosa, with quiet sternness. + +"I meant well," said Lady Cicely sorrowfully; "but I wish I had +never interfered." + +"So do I," and she began to cry. + +Lady Cicely made no answer. She went quietly away, hanging her +head sadly. + +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. + +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. + +"Give my love to Rosa," said she softly, and cut her visit very +short. + +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." + +"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?" + +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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Then he let her come with him to Milbay Steps; but into the boat he +would not let her step. + +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. + +"Shove off"--"Down"--"Give way." + +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. + +In half a minute the boat shot under the stern of the frigate. + +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." + +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. + +"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! + +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. + +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." + +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!" + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +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?" + +"Sentry! What for?" + +"The doctor--awfully cut up at leaving his wife: got him in my +cabin. Wants to have his cry to himself." + +"Fancy a fellow crying at going to sea!" + +"It is not that, sir; it is leaving his wife." + +"Well, is he the only man on board that has got a wife?" + +"Why, no, sir. It is odd, now I think of it. Perhaps he has only +got that ONE." + +"Curious creatures, landsmen," said the first lieutenant. +"However, you can stick a marine there." + +"And I say, show the YOUNGSTER the berths, and let him choose, as +the doctor's aground." + +"Yes, sir." + +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. + +"Shall we go out of sight of land altogether?" inquired his +lordship. + +"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. + +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?" + +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. + +"Why not?" + +"Brought to, sir--for the present--by--well, by grief." + +"Brought to by grief! Who the deuce is grief? No riddles on the +quarter-deck, if you please, sir." + +"Oh no, sir. I assure you he is awfully cut up; and he is having +his cry out in my cabin." + +"Having his cry out! why, what for?" + +"Leaving his wife, sir." + +"Oh, is that all?" + +"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. + +"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. + +"No, thank you," says my lord mighty dryly. + +"All right," said Fitzroy cheerfully. "Take the other, then, my +lord." + +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." + +"Oh, indeed! Logarithms?" + +"Of course not." + +"What then?" + +"Why, 'Peter Simple'--to be sure." + +"Ah, ha!" said Fitzroy, with a chuckle that showed plainly he had +some delicious reminiscences of youthful study in the same quarter. + +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." + +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." + +"Ain't you sorry?" says the little lord, cocking his eye again like +the bird hereinbefore mentioned. + +"Of course I am." + +"Then I'll take the standing bed." + +"All right. I say, you don't mind the doctor coming down with a +run, eh?" + +"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. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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." + +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!" + +Receiving no reply, he inquired of the third lieutenant, which was +generally considered the greatest authority in a ship--the captain, +or the doctor. + +The third lieutenant answered not, but turned his head away, and, +by violent exertion, succeeded in not splitting. + +"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." + +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?' + +"Well, I should look SHARP--hang all the ringleaders at the +yardarm, clap the rest under hatches, and steer for the nearest +prison." + +"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." + +"In that case," said Captain Hamilton, "I'd flog you--and stop your +six ounces." + +"Then curse the sea; that is all I say." + +"Why, you have not seen it; you have only seen the British +Channel." It was Mr. Fitzroy who contributed this last observation. + +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. + +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. + +During the night the wind gradually headed; and at four bells in +the middle watch a heavy squall came up from the south-west. + +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. + +At four A.M. it was blowing hard, and, being too near the French +coast, they wore the ship. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +They had to wear ship again, always a ticklish manoeuvre in weather +like this. + +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. + +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! + +In rushed the captain, and in staggered Staines. They stopped his +"voyage autour de sa chambre," and dragged him into the after +saloon. + +He clung to them by turns, and begged, with many tears, to be put +on the nearest land; a rock would do. + +"Much obliged," said the captain; "now is the very time to give +rocks a wide berth." + +"A dead whale, then--a lighthouse--anything but a beast of a ship." + +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. + +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. + +Staines had suffered one whole day from sea-sickness, but never +complained. I believe it did his mind more good than harm. + +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. + +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. + +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!" + +"Where away?" cried the officer of the watch. + +"A point on the lee-bow, sir." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Embarked at 11.30 A.M. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +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. + +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. + +Captain Hamilton talked to him seriously; told him it was suicide. + +"Never mind, old boy," said the young monkey; "a short life and a +merry one." + +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?" + +"Oh, d--n it all, George, don't do that," says the young gentleman, +all in a hurry. + +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. + +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." + +"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." + +"Lord! no more you can," said Tadcaster, with sudden candor. "I +FORGOT THAT." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Lord Tadcaster wrote to Lady Cicely Treherne. His epistle, though +brief, contained a plum or two. + +He wrote: "What with sailing, and fishing, and eating nothing but +roast meat, I'm quite another man." + +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.S.--I say, Cicely, I think I should like to marry you. Would +you mind?" + +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." + +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. + +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. + +"Well, close it, if you can; and let me know if it looks worth +picking up." + +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. + +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!" + +"Alive?--a spar! What do you mean? Something alive ON it, eh?" + +"No, sir; alive itself." + +"How can that be? Hail him again. Ask him what it is." + +The officer went out, and hailed the signalman at the mast-head. +"What is it?" + +"Sea-sarpint, I think." + +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." + +"The universe in my department, captain?" + +"Haw! haw! haw!" went Fitzroy and two more. + +"No, you rogue, the serpent." + +Dr. Staines, thus appealed to, asked the captain if he had ever +seen small snakes out at sea. + +"Why, of course. Sailed through a mile of them once, in the +archipelago." + +"Sure they were snakes?" + +"Quite sure; and the biggest was not eight feet long." + +"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." + +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." + +So they all went on deck right merrily. + +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!" + +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. + +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. + +They got within a hundred yards of it, and all saw it plainly, +scarce believing their senses. + +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." + +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. + +When he was gone, they all looked at one another like men awaking +from a dream. + +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." + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +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." + +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." + +"I'm so sorry," said Dr. Staines. "If there's a form of wit I +revere, it is practical joking." + +"Doctor, you are a satirical beggar." + +Staines told Tadcaster, and he went forward and chaffed his friend +the quartermaster, who was one of the forecastle wits. + +"I say, quartermaster, why doesn't Neptune come on board?" + +Dead silence. + +"I wonder what has become of poor old Nep?" + +"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." + +"Oh! and Amphitrite?" + +"Married the sexton at Wapping." + +"And the Nereids?" + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +This went on for days, and his huge dorsal fin always in the ship's +wake. + +Then Tadcaster, who had watched these experiments with hope, lost +his spirit and appetite. + +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. + +This roused Staines's pity, and also put him on his mettle. What, +science be beaten by a shark! + +He pondered the matter with all his might; and at last an idea came +to him. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +Nevertheless, there was another objection to the success of the +experiment. The shark had disappeared. + +"Well," said the captain, "at all events, you have frightened him +away." + +"No," said little Tadcaster, white as a ghost; "he is only under +water, I know; waiting--waiting." + +"There he is," cried one in the ratlines. + +There was a rush to the taffrail--great excitement. + +"Keep clear of me," said Staines quietly but firmly. "It can only +be done at the moment before he cuts the wire." + +The old shark swam slowly round the bait. + +He saw it was something new. + +He swam round and round it. + +"He won't take it," said one. + +"He suspects something." + +"Oh, yes, he will take the meat somehow, and leave the pepper. Sly +old fox!" + +"He has eaten many a poor Jack, that one." + +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. + +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. + +There was a roar of amazement and applause. + +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. + +Taddy gloated on his enemy, and began to pick up again from that +hour. + +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. + +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. + +Next day the glass fell all day, and the captain said he should +double-reef topsails at nightfall, for something was brewing. + +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. + +The signalman was sent up, and said it looked like a raft. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +"Very well, Mr. Bolt; then I suppose we must let the raft go." + +"MAN ON THE RAFT TO WINDWARD!" hailed the signalman. + +This electrified the ship. The captain ran up the mizzen rigging, +and scanned the raft, now nearly abeam. + +"It IS a man!" he cried, and was about to alter the ship's course +when, at that moment, the signalman hailed again,-- + +"IT IS A CORPSE." + +"How d'ye know?" + +"By the gulls." + +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. + +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." + +He then began to give the necessary orders; but before they were +all out of his mouth, a fatal interruption occurred. + +Tadcaster ran into Dr. Staines's cabin, crying, "A raft with a +corpse close by!" + +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. + +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. + +Another smart fellow cut the life-buoy adrift so quickly that it +struck the water within ten yards of Staines. + +The officer of the watch, without the interval of half a moment, +gave the right orders, in the voice of a stentor; + +"Let go life-buoy. + +"Life-boat's crew away. + +"Hands shorten sail. + +"Mainsel up. + +"Main topsel to mast." + +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. + +In five seconds the middy of the watch and half her crew were in +the lee cutter, fitted with Clifford's apparatus. + +"Lower away!" cried the excited officer; "the others will come down +by the pendants." + +The man stationed, sitting on the bottom boards, eased away +roundly, when suddenly there was a hitch--the boat would go no +farther. + +"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. + +"The rope has swollen, sir, and the pendants won't unreeve," cried +the middy in agony. + +"Volunteers for the weather-boat!" shouted the first lieutenant; +but the order was unnecessary, for more than the proper number were +in her already. + +"Plug in--lower away." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +The cutter came alongside first. Lights were poured on her, and +quavering voices asked, "Have you got him?" + +The answer was dead silence, and sorrowful, drooping heads. + +Sadly and reluctantly was the order given to hoist the boat in. + +Then the gig came alongside. Fitzroy seated in her, with his hands +before his face; the men gloomy and sad. + +"GONE! GONE!" + +Soon the ship was battling a heavy squall. + +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. + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +One passage almost cut her more intelligent heart in twain:-- + +"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." + +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. + +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? + +"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?" + +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. + +"Why, what is the matter?" + +"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." + +"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?" + +"Flirting! Me! a married woman." + +"Oh, to be sure; I forgot. Why, surely he has not deserted you." + +"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." + +"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." + +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. + +When she returned to the drawing-room, he was walking about, +looking grave and thoughtful. + +"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?" + +"Sir, I am to go home to my father, if he will be troubled with me. +I have written to him." + +"And what is to become of the Bijou?" + +"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." + +"Then, leave it to me. I'll come and live here with one servant; +and I'll soon sell it for you." + +"You, Uncle Philip!" + +"Well, why not?" said he roughly. + +"That will be a great trouble and discomfort to you, I'm afraid." + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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." + +"Lord forbid!" + +"I shall get over it in time--a little." + +"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." + +"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"-- + +"Oh, that is a very different thing. You will want a carriage, I +suppose. I have put mine down." + +"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." + +"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." + +He bestowed a paternal kiss on her brow, and glided doucely away +before she could possibly cry again. + +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. + +Here the days glided quietly but heavily. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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! + +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. + +In a few days she received a reply, studiously polite and cold. + +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." + +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. + +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. + +That smile soon died off her horror-stricken face. The letter ran +thus:-- + + +TRISTAN D'ACUNHA, Jan. 5. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +I send this from the island, by a small vessel, and paid him ten +pounds to take it. + +Your affectionate cousin, + +TADCASTER. + + +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?" + +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. + +She lay back on the sofa, and all the power left her limbs. She +could not move a hand. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Well, she trembled like an aspen leaf, trembled like one in an +ague, even as she sat. But she persevered. + +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. + +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. + +She reached Gravesend, and drove in a fly to Kent Villa. + +The door was opened by a maid. + +"Is Mrs. Staines at home?" + +"Yes, ma'am, she is at HOME: but--" + +"Can I see her?" + +"Why, no, ma'am, not at present." + +"But I must see her. I am an old friend. Please take her my card. +Lady Cicely Treherne." + +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." + +"Ah, the doctor! I believe Dr. Philip Staines is here." + +"Why, that IS the doctor, ma'am. Yes, he is here." + +"Then, pray let me see him--or no; I had better see Mr. Lusignan." + +"Master have gone out for the day, ma'am; but if you'll step in the +drawing-room, I'll tell the doctor." + +Lady Cicely waited in the drawing-room some time, heart-sick and +trembling. + +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." + +"Are you Dr. Philip Staines?" + +"I am, madam, at your service--for five minutes. Can't quit my +patient long, just now." + +"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. + +He took it, and read it. + +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. + +"Only myself, sir. I came here to break it to her." + +"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." + +"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." + +"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." + +"May I remain at the inn, sir; just one night?" + +"Oh yes, I wish you would; and I will run over, if all is well with +her--well with her? poor unfortunate girl!" + +Lady Cicely saw he wished her gone, and she went directly. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +"The mother, sir," sobbed Lady Cicely; "the poor mother?" + +"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." + +"Her father, sir. Would he not be the best person to break it to +her? He was out to-day." + +"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." + +"A man! I call such creachaas weptiles!" said Lady Cicely, her +ghastly cheek coloring for a moment. + +"Then you give them a false importance." + +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!" + +"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!" + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +"Of course," said he, wincing inwardly. + +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. + +But how could he hope to keep so public a thing as this from +entering the house in one of a hundred newspapers? + +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. + +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." + +By these means he hoped that none of the servants would go and buy +more of these same papers elsewhere. + +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?" + +"You may, sir." + +"I shall add ten guineas to your fee, if she gets through the month +without a shock or disturbance of any kind." + +She stared at him, inquiringly. Then she said,-- + +"You may rely on me, doctor." + +"I feel I may. Still, she alarms me. She looks quiet enough, but +she is very excitable." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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. + +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?" + +"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!" + +Dr. Philip was surprised into a sigh. + +"What is the matter, dear?" said Rosa, very quickly. + +"The matter?" + +"Yes, dear, the matter. You sighed; you, the laughing +philosopher." + +"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." + +"But, uncle dear, he is a very healthy child." + +"Very." + +"And you told me yourself carelessness was the cause so many +children die." + +"That is true." + +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." + +She said this with a quiet resolution that chilled Uncle Philip. + +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." + +"Yes, doctor," said the nurse, but never moved. She was too bent +on hiding the agitation she really felt. + +"Had you not better go to him, nurse?" + +"Perhaps I had, madam." + +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!" + +"Heaven forbid! What is known?" + +"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." + +"Stop her!" + +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. + +"Oh, very well," said the maid, rather sullenly. + +Mrs. Briscoe saw her return to the kitchen, and came back to Dr. +Staines; he was pacing the room in torments of anxiety. + +"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." + +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." + +"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." + +"But you do not advise me," said the doctor, in agitation, "and +something must be done." + +"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!" + +"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." + +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." + +"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." + +"That is true, sir." + +"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." + +"Yes, sir." + +She stopped at the door, and said, "I had better get back to her, +as soon as I have told them." + +"Certainly." + +"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." + +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." + +Mrs. Briscoe went to the kitchen, and gave her message: then went +to Mrs. Staines with the mixture. + +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?" + +"Ay, doctor, that we will," said the footman. "Only you give us +our orders, and you will see." + +"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?" + +They promised heartily; and more than one of the women began to +cry. + +"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." + +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." + +"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." + +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." + +"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." + +Lusignan sighed. "What does it all come to? We are pulling the +trigger gently, that is all." + +"No, no; that is not it. Don't let us confound the matter with +similes, please. Keep them for children." + +Mrs. Staines left her bed; and would have left her room, but Dr. +Philip forbade it strictly. + +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?" + +Mrs. Briscoe cast a hasty glance at Dr. Philip, and then said, "I +don't know, madam. I never noticed that." + +"Uncle, why did nurse look at you before she answered such a simple +question?" + +"I don't know. What question?" + +"About the servants." + +"Oh, about the servants!" said he contemptuously. + +"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--" + +"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?" + +"To be sure. I forgot that." + +She said no more; but seemed thoughtful, and not quite satisfied. + +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." + +This was done; and then she complained that nobody came near her. +She insisted on coming down-stairs; it was so dull. + +Dr. Philip consented, if she would be content to receive no visits +for a week. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"What is the matter, my dear?" + +"Oh, nothing," said she cunningly. + +"Uncle, dear," said she presently, "when do we go to Herne Bay?" + +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." + +"No, uncle," said Rosa gravely. "I wish to leave this house. I +can hardly breathe in it." + +"What! your native air?" + +"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. + +Then Dr. Philip saw the hour was come. + +He said, "My poor girl, you have read us right. I am anxious about +Christopher, and all the servants know it." + +"Anxious, and not tell ME; his wife; the woman whose life is bound +up in his." + +"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." + +"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!" + +Dr. Philip hung his head. + +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." + +He stammered out, "There is a report of an accident at sea." + +She kept silence. + +"Of a passenger drowned--out of that ship. This, coupled with his +silence, fills our hearts with fear." + +"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!" + +Philip rang the bell hard, and said in a troubled voice, "Rosa, +think of your child." + +"Not when my husband-- Is he alive or dead?" + +"It is hard to say, with such a terrible report about, and no +letters," faltered the old man, his courage failing him. + +"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. + +The nurse came in. + +"Fetch her child," he cried; "God have mercy on her." + +"Ah, then he is dead," said she, with stony calmness. "I drove him +to sea, and he is dead." + +The nurse rushed in, and held the child to her. + +She would not look at it. + +"Dead!" + +"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." + +"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. + +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." + + +CHAPTER XV. + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +He saw no signs of help. His heart began to turn as cold as his +drenched body. A horrible fear crossed him. + +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. + +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. + +A life of agony passed in a few minutes. + +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. + +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!" + +The light kept moving, but it came no nearer. They had greatly +underrated the drift. The other boat had no light. + +Minutes passed of suspense, hope, doubt, dismay, terror. Those +minutes seemed hours. + +In the agony of suspense the quaking heart sent beads of sweat to +the brow, though the body was immersed. + +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. + +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. + +When what seemed days of agony had passed, suddenly a rocket rose +in the horizon--so it seemed to him. + +The lost man gave a shriek of joy; so prone are we to interpret +things hopefully. + +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. + +He shrieked, he cried, he screamed, he raved. "Oh, Rosa! Rosa! for +her sake, men, men, do not leave me. I am here! here!" + +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. + +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. + +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. + +He despised this weakness; he raged at it; he could not overcome +it. + +Unable to live or to die, condemned to float slowly, hour by hour, +down into death's jaws. + +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." + +The moon came out. + +He raised his head and staring eyeballs, and cursed her. + +The wind began to whistle, and flung spray in his face. + +He raised his fallen head and staring eyeballs, and cursed the +wind. + +While he was thus raving, he became sensible of a black object to +windward. + +It looked like a rail, and a man leaning on it. + +He stared, he cleared the wet hair from his eyes, and stared again. + +The thing, being larger than himself and partly out of water, was +drifting to leeward faster than himself. + +He stared and trembled, and at last it came nearly abreast, black, +black. + +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. + +As they each rose high upon the waves, he saw it plainly. + +It was the very raft that had been the innocent cause of his sad +fate. + +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. + +Then he gave a cry of agony, rage, despair, and flung off the life- +buoy, and risked all on this one chance. + +He gains a little on the raft. + +He loses. + +He gains: he cries, "Rosa! Rosa!" and struggles with all his soul, +as well as his body: he gains. + +But when almost within reach, a wave half drowns him, and he loses. + +He cries, "Rosa! Rosa!" and swims high and strong. "Rosa! Rosa! +Rosa!" + +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. + +It was the dead man's leg. + +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. + +This faintness terrified him. "Oh," thought he, "if I faint now, +all is over." + +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. + +He was no better off than with his life-buoy. + +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!" + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + +"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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +What a night! + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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?" + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Towards night fell a gentle rain. He spread a handkerchief and +caught it. He sucked the handkerchief. + +This revived him, and even allayed in some degree the pangs of +hunger. + +Next day was cloudless. A hot sun glared on his unprotected head, +and battered down his enfeebled frame. + +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. + +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. + +Ever and anon they vanished, and he saw grim death looking down on +him with those big cavernous eyes. + +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. + +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. + +There came across the waters to that dismal raft a thing none too +common, by sea or land--a good man. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +After several such attempts at intervals, he said plainly the man's +life could not be saved by ordinary means. + +"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." + +"I should like to try Dr. Staines's remedy," said the surgeon. + +"Try it, then what is it?" + +"A bath of beef-tea. Dr. Staines says he applied it to a starved +child--in the Lancet." + +"Take a hundred-weight of beef, and boil it in the coppers." + +Thus encouraged, the surgeon went to the cook, and very soon beef +was steaming on a scale and at a rate unparalleled. + +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. + +There was no perceptible result. But at all events there was life +and vital instinct left, or he could not have swallowed. + +Thus they hovered about him for some hours, and then the bath was +ready. + +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. + +Just before sunset his pulse became perceptible. The surgeon +administered half a spoonful of egg-flip. The patient swallowed +it. + +By and by he sighed. + +"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." + +That night Captain Dodd overhauled the patient's clothes, and +looked for marks on his linen. There were none. + +"Poor devil " said Captain Dodd. "He is a bachelor." + +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. + +He lighted his lamp, examined the belt, unripped it, and poured out +the contents on his table. + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +They buried the skeleton,--read the service of the English Church +over a Malabar heathen. + +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. + +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. + +"Why, it is the only one, sir," said Dodd. "How can we give you +his signature? He is not in his right mind." + +"Nor never will be." + +"Don't say that, sir. Let us hope for the best, poor fellow." + +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. + +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. + +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!" + +Ten months after his admission he was promoted to be an attendant, +with a salary. + +He put by every shilling of it; for he said, "A voice from the dark +past tells me money is everything in this world." + +A discussion was held by the authorities as to whether he should be +informed he had money and jewels at the bank or not. + +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. + +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. + + +CHAPTER XVII. + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +"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." + +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?" + +"Doctor?" said Staines, with a puzzled look. "Yes; I think they +called me doctor once. I'm an attendant in the hospital now." + +"Dick!" cried Phoebe, in no little agitation. "Come here this +minute." + +"What, afore I get the horses ashore?" + +"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?" + +"Blest if I know," said he. + +"What, not know the man who saved your own life! Oh, Dick, what +are your eyes worth?" + +This discourse brought the few persons within hearing into one band +of excited starers. + +Dick took a good look, and said, "I'm blest if I don't, though; it +is the doctor that cut my throat." + +This strange statement drew forth quite a shout of ejaculations. + +"Oh, better breathe through a slit than not at all," said Dick. +"Saved my life with that cut, he did, didn't he, Pheeb?" + +"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." + +Dick came forward. "Sure you remember me, sir. Dick Dale. You +cut my throat, and saved my life." + +"Cut your throat! why, that would kill you." + +"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." + +"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. + +Everybody there now suspected the truth, and some pointed +mysteriously to their own heads. + +Phoebe whispered an inquiry to the sick person. + +He said a little pettishly, "All I know is, he is the kindest +attendant in the ward, and very attentive." + +"Oh, then, he is in the public hospital." + +"Of course he is." + +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. + +Phoebe Falcon looked after him, and began to cry. + +"Nay, nay, Phoebe," said Dick; "don't ye take on about it." + +"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." + +So then she bustled, and gave herself to getting the cattle on +shore, and the things put on board her wagon. + +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." + +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. + +The doctor was pleased and surprised, and put several questions. + +Then she gave him a clear statement of what he had done for Dick in +England. + +"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." + +"His name, sir?" + +"Yes, his name. Of course you know his name. Is it Christie?" + +"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." + +A shade of suspicion crossed the doctor's face. + +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." + +"What! he has a wife?" + +"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." + +"Did he? Then we have got him," cried the doctor energetically. + +"La, Sir." + +"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?" + +"Dear heart, no. I live at my own farm, a hundred and eighty miles +from this." + +"What a pity!" + +"Why, sir?" + +"Well--hum!" + +"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." + +"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?" + +"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." + +"You are a good woman," said the doctor warmly. + +"There's better, and there's worse," said Phoebe quietly, and even +a little coldly. + +"More of the latter," said the doctor dryly. "Well, Mrs.--?" + +"Falcon, sir." + +"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." + +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." + +"Then let us see your husband about it--just for form." + +"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." + +"I see how it is. You rule the roost." + +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. + +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. + +"On the water?" + +"Nay, by land; but 'tis a fine country, and you will see beautiful +deer and things running across the plains, and"-- + +"Shall I find the past again, the past again?" + +"Ay, poor soul, that we shall, God willing. You and I, we will +hunt it together." + +He looked at her, and gave her his hand. "I will go with you. +Your face belongs to the past, so does your voice." + +He then inquired, rather abruptly, had she any children. She +smiled. + +"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?" + +"Yes, I will nurse him, and you will help me find the past." + +Phoebe then begged Staines to be ready to start at six in the +morning. She and Dick would take him up on their way. + +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." + +"Most would; but this is such an honest face." + +"Well, but she is a mother, you say." + +"Yes." + +"Well, what mother could be just to a lunatic, with her own sweet +angel babes to provide for?" + +"That is true," said Dr. ----. "Maternal love is apt to modify the +conscience." + +"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." + +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. + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + + +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. + +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." + +"We--will--SO," said Dick, with a sturdy and indeed almost a stern +resolution. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +"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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +"All right," said Dick; "nothing is lost when you know where 'tis." + +"This is a beautiful country," suggested Christopher. "It is all +flowers. It is like the garden of--the garden of--locked up." + +"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." + +"Poor soul! mayhap the flowers have took his eye. Sit here a bit, +Dick. I want to talk to you about a many things." + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +"Me go, missy," said Ucatella zealously, pleased with an excuse for +stretching her magnificent limbs. + +"Ay, but mayhap he will not come back with YOU: will he, Dick?" + +"That he will, like a lamb." Dick wanted to look after the cattle. + +"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." + +"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. + + + "She seem'd in walking to devour the way." + + +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. + +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." + +"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. + +"Nay," said she. "I be the housemaid." + +"The housemaid?" + +"Iss, the housemaid, Ucatella. So come on." And she drew him +along, sore perplexed. + +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." + +"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'?" + +"Well, she is both, if you go to that, and the best creature ever +breathed." + +"Then she IS 'the noble savage'?" + +"Ay, so they call her, because she is black." + +"Then, thank Heaven," said Christopher, "the past is not all locked +up." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +"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. + +"Ah!" said Christopher, approvingly; "we are lying to: a very-- +proper--course." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Oh, the salt! the salt!" screamed Phoebe, and the rocks re-echoed +her lamentations. + +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." + +"All right," said the sable Juno, who spoke English ridiculously +well, and rapped out idioms; especially "Come on," and "All right." + +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. + +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. + +Says Ucatella to Phoebe, a little ostentatiously, "My child is +strong and useful; make little missy a good slave." + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +Then the past opened its stores, and lent Christopher a word. + +"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. + +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." + +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." + +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." + +"You hear that, you Kafir chaps?" inquired Ucatella, a little +arrogantly--for a Kafir. + +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." + +"And his arm blanked* strong," said Christopher's late opponent, +from whose mind, however, all resentment had vanished. + + +* I take this very useful expression from a delightful volume by +Mr. Boyle. + + +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. + +Ucatella went to Phoebe, and said, "Missy, my child is good and +brave." + +"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. + +"Oh, missy!" said Ucatella. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +"Thank God for that," said Phoebe. + +"You kept a little shop, in the other world." + +Phoebe opened her eyes with some little alarm. + +"You understand--the world that is locked up--for the present." + +"Well, sir, so I did; and sold you milk and butter. Don't you +mind?" + +"No--the milk and butter--they are locked up." + +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." + +That night, the last they had to travel, was cloudy, for a wonder, +and they groped with lanterns. + +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. + +"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. + +"Not till I have got thee a kaross of jackal's fur." + +"I'll never wear it!" said Phoebe violently, to divert him from his +purpose. + +"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?" + +"We--will--pepper--their fur," said Christopher, repeating what to +him was a lesson in the ancient and venerable English tongue. + +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. + +"Thou's no use at this work, Pheeb," said Dick. "Shut thy eyes, +and let us have Yuke." + +"Iss, master: here I be." + +"You can bleat like a lamb; for I've heard ye." + +"Iss, master. I bleats beautiful;" and she showed snowy teeth from +ear to ear. + +"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." + +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. + +Ucatella, with all a Kafir's love of fire-arms, clapped her hands +with delight. "My child shoots loud and strong," said she. + +"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." + +"Ay." said Dick, "the cattle especially--for it is them the varmint +were after--and let 'em eat my Hottentots." + +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. + +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. + +"ENGLAND!" cried Christopher. + +"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." + +"Come, Pheeb, don't you fidget," said Dick kindly. "Why, the lazy +lot are scarce out of their beds by this time." + +"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!" + +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. + +"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. + +"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. + +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. + +"Thou art wrong, lad, for once," said Dick; "for he's an old +friend, and a good one." + +"After the dog, perhaps some Christian will come to welcome us," +said poor Phoebe. + +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. + +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." + +"That is a good girl. But tell me a little more about him. What +is his name?" + +"Christie." + +"Dr. Christie?" + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"What a vertebral column you must have!" said Christopher. + +"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. + +It was only by drowning that little oasis twice a day that the +grass was kept green and the flowers alive. + +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. + +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. + +The sun set. Phoebe became greatly alarmed, and even Dick was +anxious. + +They all turned out, with guns and dogs, and hunted for him beneath +the stars. + +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." + +"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. + +"Oh! YOU are there, are you?" said Dick. + +"Iss," said Ucatella. "Tim good boy. Tim found my child." + +"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." + +Tim was sent home for Hottentots, and Christopher was carried home, +still sleeping, and laid on his own bed. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +He took a great liking to Falcon. That gentleman had the art of +pleasing, and the tact never to offend. + +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." + +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. + +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?" + +"Oh, THAT is a common word enough," said poor Christopher. "It +means a machine for measuring the force of the wind." + +"Oh, indeed," said Falcon; but did not believe a word of it. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +A chill sense of impending misfortune settled on the house. Phoebe +threw her apron over her head, and rocked in her chair. + +Dick himself looked very grave. + +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." + +"Pray Heaven you may find him alive!" + +"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"-- + +"But what?" + +"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?" + + +CHAPTER XIX. + + +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. + +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. + +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." + +Christopher crept in, a dismal, sinister figure. + +"Oh, sir," said Phoebe, "was this a day for a Christian to be out +in? How could you go and frighten us so?" + +"Forgive me, madam," said Christopher humbly; "I was not myself." + +"The best thing you can do now is to go to bed, and let us send you +up something warm." + +"You are very good," said Christopher, and retired with the air of +one too full of great amazing thoughts to gossip. + +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. + +The account said every exertion had been made to save him, but in +vain. + +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." + +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. + +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!" + +But perhaps the fatal news might not have reached her. + +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. + +Old! yet they completed the year 1867. + +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. + +"My God!" he cried, in agony, "I HAVE LOST A YEAR." + +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." + +He wept long and bitterly. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +"Part with him?" said Reginald. "Of course not. He is a +gentleman, and they are not so common in Africa." + +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." + +Soon Christopher paid the penalty of returning reason. He suffered +all the poignant agony a great heart can endure. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +When the struggle was over, and the fatal resolution taken, then he +became calmer, less solitary, and more sociable. + +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. + +"I hope you are watching them, Tim," said his mistress. + +"Iss, missy, always washing 'em." + +"Why, there's one straying towards the wood now." + +"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. + +"You are a clever boy," said Phoebe. "So that is how you manage +them." + +"Dat one way, missy," said Tim, not caring to reveal all his +resources at once. + +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. + +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." + +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." + +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." + +"Oh, indeed," said Staines. "Then it is a pity you have not built +it more scientifically. I must have a look at this." + +"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. + +"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." + +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?" + +"I have, madam. I remember every leading incident of my life." + +"And has it made you happier?" said Phoebe softly. + +"No," said Christopher gravely. "Memory has brought me misery." + +"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?" + +"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." + +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." + +Christopher struggled with his misery, and trembled. + +He was silent a long time. Then he said, "No. It is her interest +that I should be dead." + +"Well, but, sir--take a thought." + +"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. + +Phoebe cast a look of pity on him, and said no more; but she shook +her head. Her plain common sense revolted. + +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. + +Dick Dale looked a little incredulous, but he did not spare the ham +any the more for that. + +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?" + +"Misfortune, sir! Don't talk of it. Why, it would ruin us, beast +and body." + +"Well, it will burst, if it is not looked to." + +"Dale's Kloof dam burst! the biggest and strongest for a hundred +miles round." + +"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." + +"And what is that, sir?" + +"The dam is full of crabs." + +"So 'tis; but what of them?" + +"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." + +"Here's a go!" said Dick, turning pale. "Well, if it is to burst, +it must." + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +This brief excitement over, Staines went back to his own gloomy +thoughts, and they scarcely saw him, except at supper-time. + +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. + +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." + +"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." + +They tried to dissuade him, and told him not one in fifty did any +good at it. + +"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." + +When the dialogue took this turn, Reginald Falcon's cheek began to +flush, and his eyes to glitter. + +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"-- + +"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." + +"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." + +"God bless you both!" said Christopher. "I will start to-morrow." + +"And I'll go with you," said Reginald Falcon. + + +CHAPTER XX. + + +"Heaven forbid!" said Phoebe. "No, my dear, no more diamonds for +us. We never had but one, and it brought us trouble." + +"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." + +"There--there--rifles and pistols," cried Phoebe; "that shows." + +"And we will be there in a week; stay a month, and home with our +pockets full of diamonds." + +"And find me dead of a broken heart." + +"Broken fiddlestick! We have been parted longer than that, and yet +here we are all right." + +"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?" + +"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." + +"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." + +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." + +This hit the sybarite hard, and he cast a bitter glance of hatred +at his brother-in-law, and fell into a moody silence. + +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?" + +"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--" + +"Yet YOU do leave us, sir." + +"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." + +"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." + +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. + +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." + +"Dear heart! why, there's neither wind nor water to turn a mill." + +"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." + +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. + +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!" + +"I promise you." + +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. + + +CHAPTER XXI. + + +Phoebe's tears at parting made Staines feel uncomfortable, and he +said so. + +"Pooh, pooh!" said Falcon, "crying for nothing does a woman good." + +Christopher stared at him. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +The picture completed, the females looked, approved, and raised a +dismal howl. + +"A lion on the road," said Christopher gravely. + +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. + +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. + +"Aha!" said Falcon, "I took the shine out of their lion, didn't I?" + +"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." + +"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." + +"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." + +"There ARE no lions: it is not the Zoo," said Falcon; but he +spurred on faster. + +The country, however, did not change its feature; bushes and little +acacias prevailed, and presently dark forms began to glide across +at intervals. + +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. + +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. + +"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. + +This was literally the only incident worth recording that the +companions met with in three hundred miles. + +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. + +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. + +"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. + +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." + +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. + +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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +They thanked him heartily, and said they would stay a few days, at +all events. + +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. + +"Come," said Falcon, "we must go to the river;" and Staines +acquiesced. "I bow to experience," said he. + +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. + +"Give the boy a penny for it," said the ingenious Falcon, on +receiving the information. + +"Oh!" said Staines. "Take advantage of a child?" + +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." + +"Ten pounds!" said the farmer. "Nay, we rob not travellers, mine +vriend." + +"But if it is a diamond, it is worth a hundred. See how it gains +fire in the dusk." + +In short, they forced the ten pounds on him, and next day went to +work on another kopje. + +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. + +Next day, nothing but a splinter or two. + +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." + +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. + +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. + +Not he. He was a farmer: did not believe in diamonds. Two days +afterwards, another great find. Seven small diamonds. + +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. + +In the middle of dinner, it exploded like a cracker, and went +literally into diamond-dust. + +"Dere goes von tousand pounds," said Bulteel, without moving a +muscle. + +Falcon swore. But Staines showed fortitude. "It was laminated," +said he, "and exposure to the air was fatal." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"I wish I had this in Cape Town," said Staines. + +"Why, I'll take it to Cape Town, if you like," said the changeable +Falcon. + +"You will?" said Christopher, surprised. + +"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." + +"We will talk of that quietly," said Christopher. + +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. + +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." + +"All right," said Falcon. + +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?" + +"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"-- + +"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." + +"Oh, that is a very different matter. If Mrs. Falcon can leave her +farm--" + +"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." + +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." + +He not only did that, but he lay awake all night. + +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. + +"Ah!" said he; "faith is a great quality; and how I have lacked +it!" + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +"I give you my honor," said Falcon superbly. + +"Send it to me at Bulteel's Farm." + +"All right. 'Dr. Christie, Bulteel's Farm.'" + +"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.'" + +"Dr. Staines!" + +"Yes. Did you ever hear of me?" + +Falcon wore a strange look. "I almost think I have. Down at +Gravesend, or somewhere." + +"That is curious. Yes, I married my Rosa there; poor thing! God +bless her; God comfort her. She thinks me dead." + +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." + + +CHAPTER XXII. + + +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. + +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. + +Uncle Philip was devotedly kind to her, and so was her father; but +they could do nothing for her. + +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. + +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." + +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. + +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." + +Her father remonstrated gently. But she was immovable. "No. It +would be like consenting to his death." + +Then Uncle Philip was sent for. + +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." + +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? + +"Yes, yes; for my little Christie." + +"And pay you the interest quarterly." + +"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." + +"And suppose I run off with it? Such confiding geese as you +corrupt a man." + +"I shall never corrupt you. Crusty people are the soul of honor." + +"Crusty people!" cried Philip, affecting amazement. "What are +they?" + +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." + +"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." + +"Well, and if we are not to be loved, why live at all--such useless +things as I am?" said Rosa simply. + +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. + +As months rolled on, she crept out into public a little; but always +on foot, and a very little way from home. + +Youth and sober life gradually restored her strength, but not her +color, nor her buoyancy. + +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. + +She would visit no one; but a twelvemonth after her bereavement, +she received a few chosen visitors. + +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. + +Mrs. Staines was much agitated at the very name of Lord Tadcaster; +but she would not have missed seeing him for the world. + +She received him with her beautiful eyes wide open, to drink in +every lineament of one who had seen the last of her Christopher. + +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. + +He seemed dazzled at first by Mrs. Staines, but murmured that Lady +Cicely had told him to come, or he would not have ventured. + +"Who can be so welcome to me as you?" said she, and the tears came +thick in her eyes directly. + +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. + +The tears streamed down her cheeks, but she begged him to go on +telling her, and omit nothing. + +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. + +When he was leaving, she said, in her simple way, "Bless you"-- +"Come again," she said: "you have done a poor widow good." + +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. + +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. + +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." + +"Oh, yes! why didn't you?" rather reproachfully. + +"I will bring it next time." + +"Pray do." + +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?" + +"No, no. He told me you were an angel, and I believe it." + +"An angel! a good-for-nothing, foolish woman, who sees everything +too late." + +"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!" + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +She said, with the utmost simplicity, "I'm very glad of it." + +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. + +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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +As for Philip, he was abroad for his own health, somewhat impaired +by his long and faithful attendance on Rosa. + +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. + +While matters were so, the Earl of Miltshire, who had long been +sinking, died, and Tadcaster succeeded to his honors and estates. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +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." + +On these terms Lady Cicely gave her consent. + +Then he asked her should he write, or ask her in person. + +Lady Cicely reflected. "If you write, I think she will say no." + +"But if I go?" + +"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?'" + +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. + +Lord Tadcaster came to Rosa Staines; he found her seated with her +head upon her white hand, thinking sadly of the past. + +At sight of him in deep mourning, she started, and said, "Oh!" + +Then she said tenderly, "We are of one color now," and gave him her +hand. + +He sat down beside her, not knowing how to begin. + +"I am not Tadcaster now. I am Earl of Miltshire." + +"Ah, yes; I forgot," said she indifferently. + +"This is my first visit to any one in that character." + +"Thank you." + +"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?" + +"Love! to me, a broken-hearted woman, with nothing to live for but +his memory and his child." + +She looked at him with a sort of scared amazement. + +"His child shall be mine. His memory is almost as dear to me as to +you." + +"Nonsense, child, nonsense!" said she, almost sternly. + +"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." + +"Your happiness depend on me! Heaven forbid--a woman of my age, +that feels so old, old, old." + +"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. + +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. + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +"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." + +"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." + +"You have not accepted it?" cried Staines in alarm. + +"No, but I vill. I have said I shall tink of it. Dat is my vay. +So I say yah." + +"An English company? They will cheat you without mercy. No, they +shall not, though, for I will have a hand in the bargain." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +But long before this, events more pertinent to my story had +occurred. + +One day, a Hottentot came into Bulteel's farm and went out among +the diggers, till be found Staines. The Hottentot was one employed +at Dale's Kloof, and knew him. He brought Staines a letter. + +Staines opened the letter, and another letter fell out; it was +directed to "Reginald Falcon, Esq." + +"Why," thought Staines, "what a time this letter must have been on +the road! So much for private messengers." + +The letter ran thus:-- + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +I am sir, your dutiful servant and friend, + +PHOEBE DALE. + +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. + + +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. + +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. + +He rode away and soon put twenty miles between him and the +diggings. + +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. + +"Well, give me three dozen cigars." + +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. + +"Yes," said the young man. "How much?" + +"Two hundred pounds." + +"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." + +"No," said the Hottentot quietly, and walked out. + +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. + +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." + +The Hottentot shook his head. + +"But if you will go back with me to Bulteel's farm, I'll borrow the +other hundred." + +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. + +Staines gave it him, and was in despair at seeing such a prize so +near, yet leaving him. + +He made one more effort. "Well, but," said he, "how far are you +going this way?" + +"Ten days." + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Seeing he admired the rifle, Staines offered it him for the odd +hundred pounds; but though Squat's eye glittered a moment, he +declined. + +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. + +Oh, yes, he knew a nearer way, where there were trees, and shade, +and grass, and many beasts to shoot. + +"Let us take that way," said Staines. + +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. + +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." + +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. + +They halted the horse, bathed in the stream, and lay luxurious +under the acacias. All was delicious languor and enjoyment of +life. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +"It is too far," objected Blacky. + +"Too far! This is an Enfield rifle. I could kill the poor beast +at three times that distance." + +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." + +"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." + +Squat became cold directly. "The price of the diamond is two +hundred pounds." + +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!" + +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." + +"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. + +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. + +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." + +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." + +"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. + +"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. + +At this roar, though not loud, the horse, though he had never heard +or seen a lion, trembled, and pulled at his halter. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"A lion," said Blacky, amazed at such a shallow question. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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? + +All was silent. + +He listened, in agony, for the sniffing of the lion, puzzling him +out by scent. + +No: all was silent. + +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. + +Staines whispered him, "I think he is gone." + +The Hottentot whispered, "Gone a little way to watch. He is wise +as well as strong." With this he disappeared beneath the water. + +Still no sound but the screaming of the vultures, and snarling of +the hyenas and jackals over the eland. + +"Take a look," said Staines. + +"Yes," said Squat; "but not to-day. Wait here a day or two. Den +he forget and forgive." + +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. + +In this freezing situation they remained. + +Presently there was a rustling that made both crouch. + +It was followed by a croaking noise. + +Christopher made himself small. + +The Hottentot, on the contrary, raised his head, and ventured a +little way into the stream. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +The Hottentot uttered a cry of admiration. "Not the lion king of +all, nor even the white man," he said; "but Enfeel rifle!" + +Staines's eyes glittered. "You shall have it, and the horse, for +your diamond," said he eagerly. + +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. + +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.'" + +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." + +Squat's eyes began to roll. + +"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!" + +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." + +"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. + +"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. + +"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!" + +This was intended as a solemn form of asseveration adapted to the +white man's habits. + +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. + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +"Shake hands over it, Squat," said Staines; "you are hard, but you +are honest." + +"Iss, master, I a good much hard and honest," said Squat. + +"Good-by, old fellow." + +"Good-by, master." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +But to tell the horrible truth, the cooked locusts were so nice +that he preferred to gorge on them along with the other animals. + +He roasted another lot, for future use, and marched on with a good +heart. + +But now he got on some rough, scrubby ground, and damaged his +shoes, and tore his trousers. + +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. + +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. + +The men came up with him. + +"Hallo, mate! Come from the diggings?" + +"Yes." + +"What luck?" + +"Very good." + +"Haw! haw! What! found a fifty-carat? Show it us." + +"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?" + +No, they could not tell him that. They swung on; and, to Staines, +their backs were a cordial, as we say in Scotland. + +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. + +It was all bustle. Travellers at the door; their wagons and carts +under a long shed. + +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. + +"But Lordsake, sir, why have you come afoot; and a rough road too? +Look at your shoes. Hallo! What is come of the horse?" + +"I exchanged him for a diamond." + +"The deuce you did! And the rifle?" + +"Exchanged that for the same diamond." + +"It ought to be a big 'un." + +"It is." + +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." + +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. + +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." + +And she flung open the window, and almost flew through it in a +moment, to look for her husband. + +"Reginald?" said Staines. Then turning to Dick Dale, "Why, he is +here--isn't he?" + +"No, sir: not without he is just come with you." + +"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." + +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?" + +"I don't understand it," said Dick. "Whatever made you think he +was here, sir?" + +"Why, I tell you he left me to come here." + +"Left you, sir!" faltered Phoebe. "Why, when?--where?" + +"At the diggings--ever so long ago." + +"Blank him! that is just like him; the uneasy fool!" roared Dick. + +"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." + +"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?" + +"Oh, no, Mrs. Falcon; he had his horse, and his rifle, and money to +spend on the road." + +"How long ago did he leave you, sir?" + +"I--I am sorry to say it was five weeks ago." + +"Five weeks! and not come yet. Ah! the wild beasts!--the diggers!-- +the murderers! He is dead!" + +"God forbid!" faltered Staines; but his own blood began to run +cold. + +"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." + +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. + +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!" + +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. + +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. + +"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." + +"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.'" + +Phoebe began to listen, as was evident by her moaning more softly. + +"Might he not have gone straight to Cape Town?" Staines hazarded +this timidly. + +"Why should he do that, sir? Dale's Kloof is on the road." + +"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?" + +"Three thousand pounds!" cried Dale. "You trusted HIM with three +thousand pounds?" + +"Certainly. They were worth about three thousand pounds in Cape +Town, and half as much again in"-- + +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." + +And with these strange and pitiable words, she fell to sobbing as +if her great heart would burst at last. + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + + +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. + +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. + +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!" + +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!" + +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. + +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. + +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?" + +"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." + +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. + +"These stones," said he, "are not valued there; but see how +glorious they are!" + +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. + +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!" + +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. + +"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. + +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. + +"And why couldn't you tell us this before?" questioned Dick. + +"Me mind de sheep," said Tim apologetically. "Me not mind de lilly +master: jackals not eat him." + +"You no more sense dan a sheep yourself," said Ucatella loftily. + +"No, no: God bless you both," cried poor Phoebe: "now I know the +worst:" and a great burst of tears relieved her suffering heart. + +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." + +"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." + +Dick left his sister alone an hour or two, to have her cry out. + +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. + +He brought Dr. Staines in. Phoebe instantly turned her back on him +with a shudder there was no mistaking. + +"I had better go," said Staines. "Mrs. Falcon will never forgive +me." + +"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?" + +"He is not a blackguard. How dare you say that to my face?" + +"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." + +"Gently, Mr. Dale; you forget: they are as much his as mine." + +"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?" + +"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." + +And he laid the big diamond on the table. + +It was as big as a walnut, and of the purest water. + +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. + +"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." + +"Six thousand pounds!" cried Dick. + +"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." + +"That is my business," said Phoebe. "I am going in the mail-cart +to-morrow." + +"Well, you won't go alone," said Dick. + +"Mrs. Falcon," said Staines imploringly, "let me go with you." + +"Thank you, sir. My brother can take care of me." + +"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. + +"I'll go alone. You are both against me." + +"No, Mrs. Falcon; I am not," said Staines. "My heart bleeds for +you." + +"Don't you demean yourself, praying her," said Dick. "It's a +public conveyance: you have no need to ask HER leave." + +"That is true: I can't hinder folk from going to Cape Town the same +day," said Phoebe sullenly. + +"If I might presume to advise, I would take little Tommy." + +"What! all that road? Do you want me to lose my child, as well as +my man?" + +"O Mrs. Falcon!" + +"Don't speak to her, doctor, to get your nose snapped off. Give +her time. She'll come to her senses before she dies." + +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. + +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. + +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." + +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." + +There was some demur at this; but the cashier recognized him, and +Phoebe making herself responsible, the money and jewels were handed +over. + +Staines whispered Phoebe, "Are you sure the jewels are mine?" + +"They were found on you, sir." + +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. + +No answer: she was not going to make friends with him over such a +trifle as that. + +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. + +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?" + +"I gave him two letters; one of them was to you." + +"Could you remember what you said in it?" + +"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." + +"And you were very wise. But whatever could make you think I would +go to England?" + +"He told me you only wanted an excuse." + +"Oh!!" + +"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." + +"I see, sir; I see. 'Twas very natural: you love your wife." + +"Better than my life." + +"And he told you I only wanted an excuse to go to England?" + +"He did, indeed. It was not true?" + +"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?" + +"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." + +"Let me think," said Phoebe, turning ashy pale. "For mercy's sake, +let me think! + +"He has read both those letters, sir. + +"She will never see hers: any more than I shall see mine." + +She paused again, thinking harder and harder. + +"We must take two places in the next mail steamer. I must look +after my husband, AND YOU AFTER YOUR WIFE." + + +CHAPTER XXV. + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +Accordingly she was put on board the schooner, and Staines, after +some hesitation, felt bound to accompany her. + +It proved a sad error. Contrary winds assailed them the very next +day, and with such severity that they had repeatedly to lie to. + +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." + +"My wife your husband's--you are dreaming." + +"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." + +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!" + +This burst of his did not affront her, and did not comfort her. + +At last the wind abated; and after a wearisome calm, a light breeze +came, and the schooner crept homeward. + +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." + +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." + +"He will not do that, sir. He is no fool." + +"I am glad of it; for there is nothing else to fear." + +"Man, I tell you there is everything to fear. You don't know him +as I do; nor his power over women." + +"Mrs. Falcon, are you bent on affronting me?" + +"No, sir; Heaven forbid!" + +"Then please to close this subject forever. In three weeks we +shall be in England." + +"Ay; but he has been there six months." + +He bowed stiffly to her, went to his cabin, and avoided the poor +foolish woman as much as he could without seeming too unkind. + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + + +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. + +When at last he paused for her reply, she said, "Me marry again! +Oh! for shame!" + +"Mrs. Staines--Rosa--you will marry again, some day." + +"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." + +"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." + +"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. + +Then she cried, too; but she was firm; and by degrees she made him +see that her heart was inaccessible. + +Then at last he submitted with tearful eyes, but a valiant heart. + +She offered friendship timidly. + +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." + +"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." + +"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." + +Then the magnanimous little fellow blessed her, and left her, and +discontinued his visits. + +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." + +"Do," said the rebel. "He is always welcome." + +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! + +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. + +"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?" + +Philip carefully wiped and then put on his spectacles. + +"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?" + +"Worse than that. She has been and refused the Earl of Tadcaster." + +"Refused him--what! has that little monkey had the audacity?" + +"The condescension, you mean. Yes." + +"And she has refused him?" + +"And twenty thousand a year." + +"What immorality!" + +"Worse. What absurdity!" + +"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." + +Rosa sewed on all this time in demure and absolute silence. + +"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." + +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!" + +And with this the tears began to run. + +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?" + +"I dare say I should--at the time--to stop his crying." + +And with this listless remark she quietly took up her sewing again. + +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." + +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--" + +"Ah, let me die first--" + +"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." + +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. + +He found her reclining, the picture of lassitude. "How good of you +to come," she drawled. + +"What's the matter?" said he brusquely. + +"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." + +He examined her tongue and the white of her eye, and told her, in +his blunt way, she ate and drank too much. + +"Excuse me, sir," said she stiffly. + +"I mean too often. Now, let's see. Cup of tea in bed, of a +morning?" + +"Yaas." + +"Dinner at two?" + +"We call it luncheon." + +"Are you a ventriloquist?" + +"No." + +"Then it is only your lips call it luncheon. Your poor stomach, +could it speak, would call it dinner. Afternoon tea?" + +"Yaas." + +"At seven-thirty another dinner. Tea after that. Your afflicted +stomach gets no rest. You eat pastry?" + +"I confess it." + +"And sugar in a dozen forms?" + +She nodded. + +"Well, sugar is poison to your temperament. Now I'll set you up, +if you can obey. Give up your morning dram." + +"What dwam?" + +"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." + +"Battledaw! won't a lady do for that?" + +"No: you would get talking, and not play ad sudorem." + +"Ad sudawem! what is that?" + +"In earnest." + +"And will sudawem and the west put me in better spiwits, and give +me a tinge?" + +"It will incarnadine the lily, and make you the happiest young lady +in England, as you are the best." + +"I should like to be much happier than I am good, if we could +manage it among us." + +"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." + +"And what is that wemedy?" + +"Try diet, and hard exercise, first." + +"Oh, yes; but let me know that wemedy." + +"I warn you it is what we call in medicine an heroic one." + +"Never mind. I am despewate." + +"Well, then, the heroic remedy--to be used only as a desperate +resort, mind--you must marry an Irishman." + +This took the lady's breath away. + +"Mawwy a nice man?" + +"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." + +"Mercurial!--lymphatic!"-- + +"Oh, hard words break no bones, ma'am." + +"No, sir. And it is very curious. No, I won't tell you. Yes, I +will. Hem I--I think I have noticed one." + +"One what?" + +"One Iwishman--dangling after me." + +"Then your ladyship has only to tighten the cord--and HE'S done +for." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +Falcon's history, between this and our last advices, is soon +disposed of. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +By this means, matters took a curious turn. Falcon, intending to +lull his wife into a false security, lulled himself into that state +instead. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +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. + +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. + +"Not at home." + +He stared with amazement. + +The history of a "Not at home" is not, in general, worth recording: +but this is an exception. + +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! + +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. + +Falcon received the sudden freezer with amazement. "Nonsense," +said he. "Not at home at this time of the morning--to an old +friend!" + +"Not at home," said the man doggedly. + +"Oh, very well," said Falcon with a bitter sneer, and returned to +London. + +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. + +However, Sunday came; he saw a dull day before him, and so he +relented, and thought he would give her another trial. + +He went down to Gravesend by boat, and strolled towards the villa. + +When he was about a hundred yards from the villa, a lady, all in +black, came out with a nurse and child. + +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. + +"Come," said Falcon, "I'll have a look at her, any way." + +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. + +However, having watched her home, he walked slowly to and fro +composing himself for the interview. + +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. + +He called, he sent in his card. The man went in, and came back +with a sonorous "Not at home." + +"Not at home? nonsense. Why, she is just come in from church." + +"Not at home," said the man, evidently strong in his instructions. + +Falcon turned white with rage at this second affront. "All the +worse for her," said he, and turned on his heel. + +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." + +By and by, a mere negative revenge was not enough for him, and he +set his wits to work to make her smart. + +He wrote to her from his lodgings:-- + + +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. + +Yours truly, + +R. FALCON. + + +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? + +She ran with it to her father, and asked him what Mr. Falcon could +mean. + +"I have no idea," said he. "You had better ask him, not me." + +"I am afraid it is only to get to see me. You know he admired me +once. Ah, how suspicious I am getting." + +Rosa wrote to Falcon:-- + + +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? + +Yours respectfully, + +ROSA STAINES. + + +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." + +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. + +Next day he got hold of the servant, and gave her minute +instructions, and a guinea. + +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. + +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." + +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. + +Then it cost Falcon an effort not to come in and comfort her; but +he controlled himself and kept quiet. + +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. + +This done, she went away, with a deep sigh, and Falcon emerged, and +pounced upon her letter. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +True Bohemian as he was, he sent for a pint of brandy. + +So then the die was cast, and something was to be done that called +for brandy. + +He bolted himself in, and drank a wine-glass of it neat; then +another; then another. + +Now his pale cheek is flushed, and his eye glitters. Drink +forever! great ruin of English souls as well as bodies. + +He put the poker in the fire, and heated it red hot. + +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. + +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. + +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? + +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. + +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. + +So much for a whiskied egotist. + +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. + +In this, his true character, he studied the letter profoundly, and +mastered all the facts, and digested them well. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +He presented himself at the villa. + +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." + +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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +But he was in no hurry, and waited for her. He knew she would +speak if he was silent. + +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." + +"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." + +"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. + +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. + +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?" + +"Ah!" + +"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?" + +"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." + +"Will it be kind or unkind, to tell you why I think he died as I +tell you, and not at sea?" + +"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." + +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. + +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." + +"Ah!" said Rosa. "Show them me." + +"I will." + +"This moment." And her hands began to work convulsively. + +"I cannot," said Falcon. "I have not brought them with me." + +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. + +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.'" + +"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." + +"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." + +"Forgive me," said Rosa carelessly: then earnestly, "The letter! +when can I see it?" + +"I will send, or bring it." + +"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." + +"And I say he sleeps in hallowed ground, and these hands laid him +there." + +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?" + +"Yes." + +"Oh, why, why did you not bring it?" + +"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." + +"Oh, no: no more I do: but I fear it was not my Christie." + +"I'll go for the letter at once, Mrs. Staines." + +"Oh, thank you! Bless you! Yes, this minute!" + +The artful rogue did not go; never intended. + +He rose TO GO; but had a sudden inspiration; very sudden, of +course. "Had he nothing about him you could recognize him by?" + +"Yes, he had a ring I gave him." + +Falcon took a black-edged envelope out of his pocket. + +"A ruby ring," said she, beginning to tremble at his quiet action. + +"Is that it?" and he handed her a ruby ring. + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + + +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. + +Falcon rose to call for assistance; but she made him a feeble +motion not to do so. + +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. + +Falcon eyed her uneasily. + +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. + +"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?" + +"Of course I will." + +"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." + +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." + +"That is strange." + +"You have no child? Then it must have been you he meant. He spoke +of you as a child more than once." + +"Mr. Falcon, I have a child; but born since I lost my poor child's +father." + +"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"-- + +The artist in lies left his sentence half completed. + +Rosa rang, and sent for her little boy. + +Mr. Falcon admired his beauty, and said quietly, "I shall keep my +vow." + +He then left her, with a promise to come back early next morning +with the letter. + +She let him go only on those conditions. + +As soon as her father came in, she ran to him with this strange +story. + +"I don't believe it," said he. "It is impossible." + +She showed him the proof, the ruby ring. + +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. + +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. + +He inserted this letter in the original envelope, and sealed it +very carefully, so as to hide that the seal had been tampered with. + +Thus armed, he went down to Gravesend. There he hired a horse and +rode to Kent Villa. + +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. + +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? + +Her eloquent sighs and sobs soon told the caitiff he had nothing to +fear. + +The letter ran thus:-- + + +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, + +CHRISTOPHER STAINES. + + +Falcon rose, and began to steal on tiptoe out of the room. + +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." + +"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. + +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." + +"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. + +"No sweetheart!" said he; "and the prettiest girl I have seen since +I landed: then I put in for the situation." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +He waited two days, and then called again. Rosa reproached him +sweetly for going before she had half thanked him. + +"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." + +"You did your best," said Rosa tearfully. + +"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." + +"Do you know what my darling says to me in my letter?" + +"No." + +"Would you like to see it?" + +"Indeed I should; but I have no right." + +"Every right. It is the only mark of esteem, worth anything, I can +show you." + +She handed him the letter, and buried her own face in her hands. + +He read it, and acted the deepest emotion. + +He handed it back, without a word. + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + + +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. + +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. + +"If I was a young man," said Lusignan, "I would go out directly, +and dig on your estate." + +"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." + +"Why, it is twenty-four thousand pounds a year." + +"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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +He exerted all his art of pleasing, and he succeeded. He was +welcome to Rosa, and she made no secret of it. + +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. + +"Wouldn't I just?" said she frankly. + +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." + +"I wish I had the inn," said Emily. "Husbands are soon got when a +girl hasn't her face only to look to." + +"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." + +"That I would, sir. But, laws, what can a poor girl like me do for +a rich gentleman like you?" + +"Can you keep a secret, Emily?" + +"Nobody better. You try me, sir." + +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. + +"Emily, my girl," said he sadly, "I am an unhappy man." + +"You, sir! Why, you didn't ought to be." + +"I am then. I am in love; and cannot win her." + +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. + +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." + +"Indeed! I have not observed that." + +"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?" + +"I don't know." + +"Is he any kin to you, ma'am?" + +"None whatever. You must have misunderstood him. You should not +repeat all that people say." + +"No, ma'am; only I did think it so odd. Poor gentleman, I don't +think he is happy, for all his money." + +"He is too good to be unhappy all his life." + +"So I think, ma'am." + +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. + +But Rosa's was a mind that could be worked upon, and these short +but repeated eulogies were not altogether without effect. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +She colored high, and said, "You have consoled me more than all the +world. But there is a limit; always will be." + +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. + +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." + +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!" + +"Then we both are to be unhappy all our days." + +"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." + +"I will go," said he; "and I hope he who is gone will forgive my +want of courage." + +"He who is gone took my promise never to marry again." + +"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. + +Mrs. Staines shed a tear for him. + +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. + +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?" + +The house was alarmed. The garden searched, the adjoining paddock. +The child was gone. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Meantime the police and many of the neighboring gentry came about +the miserable mother with their vague ideas. + +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." + +He was the only one with a real idea; the woman saw it, and clung +to him. He left late at night. + +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. + +At eleven that night came a telegraph:-- + + +"I have got him. Coming down by special train." + + +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. + +At one in the morning he drove up with the child and a hired nurse. + +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. + +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." + +"You are a good kind girl; and here's the fifty pounds I promised +you." + +"Well, and I have earned it." + +"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." + +"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." + +So she salved her nursemaid's conscience--with the help of the +fifty pounds. + +The mother was left to her rapture that night. In the morning +Falcon told his tale. + +"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." + +"What is that?" said Lusignan. + +"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." + +"Oh, my dear friend," said Rosa, "were you not frightened?" + +"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.' + +"'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." + +"Yes, yes," said Rosa pantingly. "Ah, you were a match for them." + +"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." + +"Papa," said Rosa, with enthusiasm, "there is but one man in +England who would have got me back my child, and this is he." + +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. + +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." + +"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." + +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?" + +"A man's dying words are more sacred than any other. You have his +letter." + +"Yes, but he does not say 'marry again.'" + +"That is what he meant, though." + +"How can you say that? How can you know?" + +"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." + +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." + +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!" + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +The little push was a very great one, I think. + +It consisted in directing the clergyman to call in church the banns +of marriage between Reginald Falcon and Rosa Staines. + +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. + +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." + +"Oh, Rosa!" cried Falcon, affecting utter dismay. + +"Publicly--publicly: he has had the banns of marriage cried in the +church, without my permission." + +"Don't raise your voice so loud, child. All the house will hear +you." + +"I choose all the house to hear me. I will not endure it. I will +never marry you now--never!" + +"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." + +"Oh! papa, you had no right to do such a thing as that." + +"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." + +"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." + +"I should like to see that," said the old gentleman dryly. + +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. + +"Let the spiteful cat alone," said old Lusignan. "You and I will +dine together in peace and quiet." + +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. + +Rosa learned next Sunday morning that this was to be done, and her +courage failed her. She did not go to church at all. + +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. + +Falcon renewed his visits, and was received with the mere sullen +languor of a woman who has given in. + +The banns were cried a third time. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +After dinner, Rosa retired early; and soon she was heard walking +rapidly up and down the dressing-room. + +This was quite unusual, and made a noise. + +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. + +They did so; but after a while, finding that Falcon was not +smoking, he said, "Don't let me detain you. Rosa is alone." + +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?" + +"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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + + +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. + +She did not find him; but she heard of him, and learned that he +always went down to Gravesend from Saturday till Monday. + +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." + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +"Enormous estates!" said Staines to himself. "Then they must have +grown very fast in a few months." + +"Oh, yes," said Falcon; "but I think of showing her a little of +Europe first." + +Staines thought this still more mysterious; he waited to hear more, +but the succeeding remarks were of an ordinary kind. + +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. + +He began to feel a strange chill creep down him. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +"Oh, yes, you will, my dear." + +"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." + +"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." + +The old gentleman retired in high dudgeon. + +Staines stood in the black shade of his cedar-tree, rooted to the +ground by this revelation of male villany and female credulity. + +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. + +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." + +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. + +Rosa uttered a shriek, and flew into the house. + +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. + +He got terribly anxious, and followed her. All the doors were +open. + +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." + +"Are you mad?" cried Falcon. "How can he be alive, when I saw him +dead?" + +This was too much. Staines gave the door a blow with his arm, and +strode into the apartment, looking white and tremendous. + +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. + +Rosa gave a loud scream, and swooned away. + +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. + +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." + +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!" + +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. + +"Oh, dear!" sighed Papa Lusignan. + +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. + +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. + +They got him off; but he was insensible, and the place drenched +with his blood. + +Phoebe clutched Staines by the arm. "Let me know the worst," said +she. "Is he dead?" + +Staines examined him, and said "No." + +"Can you save him?" + +"I?" + +"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. + +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." + +He took immediate steps for stanching the blood; and the fly +carried Phoebe and her villain to the inn at Gravesend. + +Falcon came to on the road; but finding himself alone with Phoebe, +shammed unconsciousness of everything but pain. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"Oh, Uncle Philip! Have you seen him?" + +"Seen him? Yes. He caught me on the hop, just as I came in from +Italy. I took him for a ghost." + +"Oh, weren't you frightened?" + +"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?" + +"O uncle! what for? Because I'm the vilest of women!" + +"Vilest of fiddlesticks! It's his fault, not yours. Shouldn't +have died. It's always a dangerous experiment." + +"I shall die if he will not forgive me. He keeps away from me and +from his child." + +"I'll tell you. He heard, in Gravesend, your banns had been cried: +that has moved the peevish fellow's bile." + +"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." + +"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." + +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. + +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." + +She shook her head sadly. + +"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." + +"Stuff!" + +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." + +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. + +"Been to Kent Villa yet?" + +"No," was the grim reply. + +"Why not?" + +"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." + +"She was deceived." + +"I don't doubt that; but nobody has a right to be so great a fool +as all that." + +"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?-- + + + "'At Wisdom's gate, Suspicion sleeps, + And deems no ill where no ill seems.' + + +Come, come! are you sure you are not a little to blame? Did you +write home the moment you found you were not dead?" + +Christopher colored high. + +"Evidently not," said the keen old man. "Ah, my fine fellow! have +I found the flaw in your own armor?" + +"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." + +"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." + +No answer. + +"Strike off those two or three months; would the banns have ever +been cried?" + +"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." + +"I mean to." + +"Good-morning." + +"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?" + +"I wished her to marry again! Are you mad, uncle?" + +"Whose handwriting is on this envelope?" + +"Mine, to be sure." + +"Now, read the letter." + +Christopher read the forged letter. + +"Oh, monstrous!" + +"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." + +"What, he too! The little cub I saved, and lost myself for--blank +him! blank him!" + +"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?" + +"Of course I do. She never loved me as I loved her." + +"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." + +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. + +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!" + +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." + +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. + + +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. + +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. + +Phoebe found the diamonds, and offered them all to Staines, in +expiation of his villany. "See," she said, "he has only spent +one." + +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. + +Counting the two sums, and deducting six hundred for the stone Mr. +Falcon had embezzled, he gave her over seven thousand pounds. + +She stared at him, and changed color at so large a sum. "But I +have no claim on that, sir." + +"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." + +"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. + +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. + +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." + +Dr. Staines called on Lady Cicely Treherne; the footman stared. He +left his card. + +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. + +"Bless me!" said he bluntly, "is this you? How you are improved!" + +"Yes," said she; "and I am come to thank you for your pwescwiption: +I followed it to the lettaa." + +"Woe is me! I have forgotten it." + +"You diwected me to mawwy a nice man." + +"Never: I hate a nice man." + +"No, no--an Iwishman: and I have done it." + +"Good gracious! you don't mean that! I must be more cautious in my +prescriptions. After all, it seems to agree." + +"Admiwably." + +"He loves you?" + +"To distwaction." + +"He amuses you?" + +"Pwodigiously. Come and see." + + +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. + +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." + +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." + +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." + +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." + +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. + + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of A Simpleton, by Charles Reade + diff --git a/old/smptn10.zip b/old/smptn10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..32381b3 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/smptn10.zip |