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diff --git a/2497.txt b/2497.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f57962f --- /dev/null +++ b/2497.txt @@ -0,0 +1,25467 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Put Yourself in His Place, by Charles Reade + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Put Yourself in His Place + +Author: Charles Reade + +Release Date: May 16, 2006 [EBook #2497] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUT YOURSELF IN HIS PLACE *** + + + + +Produced by Donald Lainson + + + + + +PUT YOURSELF IN HIS PLACE + + +By Charles Reade + + + +"I will frame a work of fiction upon notorious fact, so that anybody +shall think he can do the same; shall labor and toil attempting +the same, and fail--such is the power of sequence and connection in +writing."--HORACE: Art of Poetry. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + + +Hillsborough and its outlying suburbs make bricks by the million, spin +and weave both wool and cotton, forge in steel from the finest needle up +to a ship's armor, and so add considerably to the kingdom's wealth. + +But industry so vast, working by steam on a limited space, has been +fatal to beauty: Hillsborough, though built on one of the loveliest +sites in England, is perhaps the most hideous town in creation. All ups +and down and back slums. Not one of its wriggling, broken-backed streets +has handsome shops in an unbroken row. Houses seem to have battled in +the air, and stuck wherever they tumbled down dead out of the melee. But +worst of all, the city is pockmarked with public-houses, and bristles +with high round chimneys. These are not confined to a locality, but +stuck all over the place like cloves in an orange. They defy the law, +and belch forth massy volumes of black smoke, that hang like acres of +crape over the place, and veil the sun and the blue sky even in the +brightest day. But in a fog--why, the air of Hillsborough looks a thing +to plow, if you want a dirty job. + +More than one crystal stream runs sparkling down the valleys, and +enters the town; but they soon get defiled, and creep through it heavily +charged with dyes, clogged with putridity, and bubbling with poisonous +gases, till at last they turn to mere ink, stink, and malaria, and +people the churchyards as they crawl. + +This infernal city, whose water is blacking, and whose air is coal, lies +in a basin of delight and beauty: noble slopes, broad valleys, watered +by rivers and brooks of singular beauty, and fringed by fair woods in +places; and, eastward, the hills rise into mountains, and amongst them +towers Cairnhope, striped with silver rills, and violet in the setting +sun. + +Cairnhope is a forked mountain, with a bosom of purple heather and a +craggy head. Between its forks stood, at the period of my story, a great +curiosity; which merits description on its own account, and also as the +scene of curious incidents to come. + +It was a deserted church. The walls were pierced with arrow-slits, +through which the original worshipers had sent many a deadly shaft in +defense of their women and cattle, collected within the sacred edifice +at the first news of marauders coming. + +Built up among the heathery hills in times of war and trouble, it had +outlived its uses. Its people had long ago gone down into the fruitful +valley, and raised another church in their midst, and left this old +house of God alone, and silent as the tombs of their forefathers that +lay around it. + +It was no ruin, though on the road to decay. One of the side walls was +much lower than the other, and the roof had two great waves, and was +heavily clothed, in natural patterns, with velvet moss, and sprinkled +all over with bright amber lichen: a few tiles had slipped off in two +places, and showed the rafters brown with time and weather: but the +structure was solid and sound; the fallen tiles lay undisturbed beneath +the eaves; not a brick, not a beam, not a gravestone had been stolen, +not even to build the new church: of the diamond panes full half +remained; the stone font was still in its place, with its Gothic cover, +richly carved; and four brasses reposed in the chancel, one of them +loose in its bed. + +What had caused the church to be deserted had kept it from being +desecrated; it was clean out of the way. No gypsy, nor vagrant, ever +slept there, and even the boys of the village kept their distance. +Nothing would have pleased them better than to break the sacred windows +time had spared, and defile the graves of their forefathers with +pitch-farthing and other arts; but it was three miles off, and there was +a lion in the way: they must pass in sight of Squire Raby's house; and, +whenever they had tried it, he and his groom had followed them on +swift horses that could jump as well as gallop, had caught them in the +churchyard, and lashed them heartily; and the same night notice to quit +had been given to their parents, who were all Mr. Raby's weekly tenants: +and this had led to a compromise and flagellation. + +Once or twice every summer a more insidious foe approached. Some little +party of tourists, including a lady, who sketched in water and never +finished anything, would hear of the old church, and wander up to it. +But Mr. Raby's trusty groom was sure to be after them, with orders +to keep by them, under guise of friendship, and tell them outrageous +figments, and see that they demolished not, stole not, sculptured not. + +All this was odd enough in itself, but it astonished nobody who knew Mr. +Raby. His father and predecessor had guarded the old church religiously +in his day, and was buried in it, by his own orders; and, as for Guy +Raby himself, what wonder he respected it, since his own mind, like that +old church, was out of date, and a relic of the past? + +An antique Tory squire, nursed in expiring Jacobitism, and cradled in +the pride of race; educated at Oxford, well read in books, versed in +county business, and acquainted with trade and commerce; yet puffed up +with aristocratic notions, and hugging the very prejudices our nobility +are getting rid of as fast as the vulgar will let them. + +He had a sovereign contempt for tradespeople, and especially for +manufacturers. Any one of those numerous disputes between masters and +mechanics, which distinguish British industry, might have been safely +referred to him, for he abhorred and despised them both with strict +impartiality. + + +The lingering beams of a bright December day still gilded the moss-clad +roof of that deserted church, and flamed on its broken panes, when a +young man came galloping toward it, from Hillsborough, on one of those +powerful horses common in that district. + +He came so swiftly and so direct, that, ere the sun had been down twenty +minutes, he and his smoking horse had reached a winding gorge about +three furlongs from the church. Here, however, the bridle-road, which +had hitherto served his turn across the moor, turned off sharply +toward the village of Cairnhope, and the horse had to pick his way +over heather, and bog, and great loose stones. He lowered his nose, and +hesitated more than once. But the rein was loose upon his neck, and he +was left to take his time. He had also his own tracks to guide him in +places, for this was by no means his first visit; and he managed so +well, that at last he got safe to a mountain stream which gurgled past +the north side of the churchyard: he went cautiously through the water, +and then his rider gathered up the reins, stuck in the spurs, and put +him at a part of the wall where the moonlight showed a considerable +breach. The good horse rose to it, and cleared it, with a foot to spare; +and the invader landed in the sacred precincts unobserved, for the +road he had come by was not visible from Raby House, nor indeed was the +church itself. + +He was of swarthy complexion, dressed in a plain suit of tweed, well +made, and neither new nor old. His hat was of the newest fashion, and +glossy. He had no gloves on. + +He dismounted, and led his horse to the porch. He took from his pocket a +large glittering key and unlocked the church-door; then gave his horse +a smack on the quarter. That sagacious animal walked into the church +directly, and his iron hoofs rang strangely as he paced over the brick +floor of the aisle, and made his way under the echoing vault, up to +the very altar; for near it was the vestry-chest, and in that chest his +corn. + +The young man also entered the church; but soon came out again with +a leathern bucket in his hand. He then went round the church, and was +busily employed for a considerable time. + +He returned to the porch, carried his bucket in, and locked the door, +leaving the key inside. + + +That night Abel Eaves, a shepherd, was led by his dog, in search of a +strayed sheep, to a place rarely trodden by the foot of man or beast, +viz., the west side of Cairnhope Peak. He came home pale and disturbed, +and sat by the fireside in dead silence. "What ails thee, my man?" said +Janet, his wife; "and there's the very dog keeps a whimpering." + +"What ails us, wife? Pincher and me? We have seen summat." + +"What was it?" inquired the woman, suddenly lowering her voice. + +"Cairnhope old church all o' fire inside." + +"Bless us and save us!" said Janet, in a whisper. + +"And the fire it did come and go as if hell was a blowing at it. One +while the windows was a dull red like, and the next they did flare so, +I thought it would all burst out in a blaze. And so 'twould, but, bless +your heart, their heads ha'n't ached this hundred year and more, as +lighted that there devilish fire." + +He paused a moment, then said, with sudden gravity and resignation and +even a sort of half business-like air, "Wife, ye may make my shroud, and +sew it and all; but I wouldn't buy the stuff of Bess Crummles; she is an +ill-tongued woman, and came near making mischief between you and me last +Lammermas as ever was." + +"Shroud!" cried Mrs. Eaves, getting seriously alarmed. "Why, Abel, what +is Cairnhope old church to you? You were born in an other parish." + +Abel slapped his thigh. "Ay, lass, and another county, if ye go to +that." And his countenance brightened suddenly. + +"And as for me," continued Janet, "I'm Cairnhope; but my mother came +from Morpeth, a widdy: and she lies within a hundred yards of where +I sit a talking to thee. There's none of my kin laid in old Cairnhope +churchyard. Warning's not for thee, nor me, nor yet for our Jock. Eh, +lad, it will be for Squire Raby. His father lies up there, and so do all +his folk. Put on thy hat this minute, and I'll hood myself, and we'll go +up to Raby Hall, and tell Squire." + +Abel objected to that, and intimated that his own fireside was +particularly inviting to a man who had seen diabolical fires that came +and went, and shone through the very stones and mortar of a dead church. + +"Nay, but," said Janet, "they sort o' warnings are not to be slighted +neither. We must put it off on to Squire, or I shall sleep none this +night." + +They went up, hand in hand, and often looked askant upon the road. + +When they got to the Hall, they asked to see Mr. Raby. After some demur +they were admitted to his presence, and found him alone, so far as they +could judge by the naked eye; but, as they arrived there charged to +the muzzle with superstition, the room presented to their minds some +appearances at variance with this seeming solitude. Several plates were +set as if for guests, and the table groaned, and the huge sideboard +blazed, with old silver. The Squire himself was in full costume, and on +his bosom gleamed two orders bestowed upon his ancestors by James +III. and Charles III. In other respects he was rather innocuous, being +confined to his chair by an attack of gout, and in the act of sipping +the superannuated compound that had given it him--port. Nevertheless, +his light hair, dark eyebrows, and black eyes, awed them, and +co-operated with his brilliant costume and the other signs of company, +to make them wish themselves at the top of Cairnhope Peak. However, they +were in for it, and told their tale, but in tremulous tones and a low +deprecating voice, so that if the room SHOULD happen to be infested with +invisible grandees from the other world, their attention might not be +roused unnecessarily. + +Mr. Raby listened with admirable gravity; then fixed his eyes on the +pair, in silence; and then said in a tone so solemn it was almost +sepulchral, "This very day, nearly a century and a half ago, Sir Richard +Raby was beheaded for being true to his rightful king--" + +"Eh, dear poor gentleman! so now a walks." It was Janet who edged in +this-- + +"And," continued the gentleman, loftily ignoring the comment, "they say +that on this night such of the Rabys as died Catholics hold high mass in +the church, and the ladies walk three times round the churchyard; twice +with their veils down, once with bare faces, and great eyes that glitter +like stars." + +"I wouldn't like to see the jades," quavered Abel: "their ladyships I +mean, axing their pardon." + +"Nor I!" said Janet, with a great shudder. + +"It would not be good for you," suggested the Squire; "for the first +glance from those dead and glittering eyes strikes any person of the +lower orders dumb, the second, blind; the third, dead. So I'm INFORMED. +Therefore--LET ME ADVISE YOU NEVER TO GO NEAR CAIRNHOPE OLD CHURCH AT +NIGHT." + +"Not I, sir," said the simple woman. + +"Nor your children: unless you are very tired of them." + +"Heaven forbid, sir! But oh, sir, we thought it might be a warning +like." + +"To whom?" + +"Why, sir, th' old Squire lies there; and heaps more of your folk: and +so Abel here was afear'd--but you are the best judge; we be no scholars. +Th' old church warn't red-hot from eend to eend for naught: that's +certain." + +"Oh it is me you came to warn?" said Raby, and his lip curled. + +"Well, sir," (mellifluously), "we thought you had the best right to +know." + +"My good woman," said the warned, "I shall die when my time comes. But +I shall not hurry myself, for all the gentlemen in Paradise, nor all the +blackguards upon earth." + +He spake, and sipped his port with one hand, and waved them superbly +back to their village with the other. + +But, when they were gone, he pondered. + +And the more he pondered, the further he got from the prosaic but +singular fact. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +In the old oak dining-room, where the above colloquy took place, hung +a series of family portraits. One was of a lovely girl with oval face, +olive complexion, and large dark tender eyes: and this was the gem of +the whole collection; but it conferred little pleasure on the spectator, +owing to a trivial circumstance--it was turned with its face to the +wall; and all that met the inquiring eye was an inscription on the +canvas, not intended to be laudatory. + +This beauty, with her back to creation, was Edith Raby, Guy's sister. + +During their father's lifetime she was petted and allowed her own way. +Hillsborough, odious to her brother, was, naturally, very attractive to +her, and she often rode into the town to shop and chat with her friends, +and often stayed a day or two in it, especially with a Mrs. Manton, wife +of a wealthy manufacturer. + +Guy merely sneered at her, her friends, and her tastes, till he suddenly +discovered that she had formed an attachment to one of the obnoxious +class, Mr. James Little, a great contract builder. He was too shocked at +first to vent his anger. He turned pale, and could hardly speak; and the +poor girl's bosom began to quake. + +But Guy's opposition went no further than cold aversion to the +intimacy--until his father died. Then, though but a year older than +Edith, he assumed authority and, as head of the house, forbade the +connection. At the same time he told her he should not object, under the +circumstances, to her marrying Dr. Amboyne, a rising physician, and +a man of good family, who loved her sincerely, and had shown his love +plainly before ever Mr. Little was heard of. + +Edith tried to soften her brother; but he was resolute, and said Raby +Hall should never be an appendage to a workshop. Sooner than that, he +would settle it on his cousin Richard, a gentleman he abhorred, and +never called, either to his face or behind his back, by any other name +than "Dissolute Dick." + +Then Edith became very unhappy, and temporized more or less, till her +lover, who had shown considerable forbearance, lost patience at last, +and said she must either have no spirit, or no true affection for him. + +Then came a month or two of misery, the tender clinging nature of the +girl being averse to detach itself from either of these two persons. She +loved them both with an affection she could have so easily reconciled, +if they would only have allowed her. + +And it all ended according to Nature. She came of age, plucked up a +spirit, and married Mr. James Little. + +Her brother declined to be present at the wedding; but, as soon as she +returned from her tour, and settled in Hillsborough, he sent his groom +with a cold, civil note, reminding her that their father had settled +nineteen hundred pounds on her, for her separate use, with remainder to +her children, if any; that he and Mr. Graham were the trustees of this +small fund; that they had invested it, according to the provisions of +the settlement, in a first mortgage on land; and informing her that half +a year's interest at 4 12 per cent was due, which it was his duty to +pay into her own hand and no other person's; she would therefore oblige +him by receiving the inclosed check, and signing the inclosed receipt. + +The receipt came back signed, and with it a few gentle lines, "hoping +that, in time, he would forgive her, and bestow on her what she needed +and valued more than money; her own brother's, her only brother's +affection." + +On receiving this, his eyes were suddenly moist, and he actually +groaned. "A lady, every inch!" he said; "yet she has gone and married a +bricklayer." + +Well, blood is thicker than water, and in a few years they were pretty +good friends again, though they saw but little of one another, meeting +only in Hillsborough, which Guy hated, and never drove into now without +what he called his antidotes: a Bible and a bottle of lavender-water. It +was his humor to read the one, and sprinkle the other, as soon as ever +he got within the circle of the smoky trades. + +When Edith's little boy was nine years old, and much admired for his +quickness and love of learning, and of making walking-stick heads and +ladies' work-boxes, Mr. Little's prosperity received a severe check, and +through his own fault. He speculated largely in building villas, overdid +the market, and got crippled. He had contracts uncompleted, and was +liable to penalties; and at last saw himself the nominal possessor of a +brick wilderness, but on the verge of ruin for want of cash. + +He tried every other resource first; but at last he came to his wife, +to borrow her L1900. The security he offered was a mortgage on twelve +carcasses, or houses the bare walls and roofs of which were built. + +Mrs. Little wrote at once to Mr. Raby for her money. + +Instead of lending the trust-money hastily, Raby submitted the proposal +to his solicitor, and that gentleman soon discovered the vaunted +security was a second mortgage, with interest overdue on the first; and +so he told Guy, who then merely remarked, "I expected as much. When had +a tradesman any sense of honor in money matters? This one would cheat +his very wife and child." + +He declined the proposal, in two words, "Rotten security!" + +Then Mr. James Little found another security that looked very plausible, +and primed his wife with arguments, and she implored Guy to call and +talk it over with them both. + +He came that very afternoon, and brought his father's will. + +Then Edith offered the security, and tried to convey to the trustee her +full belief that it was undeniable. + +Guy picked terrible holes in it, and read their father's will, confining +the funds to consols, or a first mortgage on land. "You take the money +on these conditions: it is almost as improper of you to wish to evade +them, as it would be of me to assist you. And then there is your child; +I am hound in honor not to risk his little fortune. See, here's my +signature to that." + +"My child!" cried Edith. "When he comes of age, I'll go on my knees to +him and say, 'My darling, I borrowed your money to save your father's +credit.' And my darling will throw his arms round me, and forgive me." + +"Simpleton!" said Guy. "And how about your daughters and their husbands? +And their husbands' solicitors? Will they throw their arms round your +neck, and break forth into twaddle? No! I have made inquiries. Your +husband's affairs are desperate. I won't throw your money into his well; +and you will both live to thank me for seeing clearer than you do, and +saving this L1900 for you and yours." + +James Little had writhed in his chair for some time: he now cried out +wildly, + +"Edith, you shall demean yourself no more. He always hated me: and now +let him have his will, and seal my dishonor and my ruin. Oblige me by +leaving my house, Mr. Raby." + +"Oh, no, James!" cried Edith, trembling, and shocked at this +affront. But Guy rose like a tower. "I've noticed this trait in all +tradespeople," said he grimly. "They are obsequious to a gentleman so +long as they hope to get the better of him; but, the moment they find +it is impossible to overreach him, they insult him." And with this he +stalked out of the house. + +"Oh, my poor James, how could you?" said Edith. + +"Forgive me," said he, quietly. "It is all over. That was our last +chance." + +Guy Raby walked down the street, stung to the quick. He went straight to +his solicitor and arranged to borrow L1900 on his own property. "For," +said he, "I'll show them both how little a snob can understand a +gentleman. I won't tamper with her son's money, but I'll give her my own +to throw into his well. Confound him! why did she ever marry him?" + +When the business was virtually settled, he came back to the house in +great haste. + + +Meantime Mr. James Little went up to his dressing-room, as usual, to +dress for dinner; but he remained there so long that, at last, Mrs. +Little sent her maid to tell him dinner was ready. + +The girl had hardly reached the top of the stairs, when she gave a +terrible scream that rang through the whole house. + +Mrs. Little rushed upstairs, and found her clinging to the balusters, +and pointing at the floor, with eyes protruding and full of horror. +Her candle-stick had fallen from her benumbed hand; but the hall-lamp +revealed what her finger was quivering and pointing at: a dark fluid +trickling slowly out into the lobby from beneath the bedroom door. + +It was blood. + +The room was burst into, and the wretched, tottering wife, hanging upon +her sobbing servants, found her lover, her husband, her child's father, +lying on the floor, dead by his own hand; stone dead. A terrible sight +for strangers to see; but for her, what words can even shadow the horror +of it! + +I drop the veil on her wild bursts of agony, and piteous appeals to him +who could not hear her cries. + +The gaping wound that let out that precious life, her eye never ceased +to see it, nor her own heart to bleed with it, while she lived. + +She was gently dragged away, and supported down to another room. Doctor +Amboyne came and did what he could for her; and that was--nothing. + +At this time she seemed stupefied. But when Guy came beaming into the +room to tell her he had got her the money, a terrible scene occurred. +The bereaved wife uttered a miserable scream at sight of him, and +swooned away directly. + +The maids gathered round her, laid her down, and cut her stays, and told +Guy the terrible tidings, in broken whispers, over her insensible body. + +He rose to his feet horrified. He began to gasp and sob. And he yearned +to say something to comfort her. At that moment his house, his heart, +and all he had, were hers. + +But, as soon as she came to herself, and caught sight of him, she +screamed out, "Oh, the sight of him! the sight of him!" and swooned away +again. + +Then the women pushed him out of the room, and he went away with uneven +steps, and sick at heart. + +He shut himself up in Raby Hall, and felt very sad and remorseful. +He directed his solicitor to render Mrs. Little every assistance, and +supply her with funds. But these good offices were respectfully declined +by Mr. Joseph Little, the brother of the deceased, who had come from +Birmingham to conduct the funeral and settle other matters. + +Mr. Joseph Little was known to be a small master-cutler, who had risen +from a workman, and even now put blades and handles together with his +own hands, at odd times, though he had long ceased to forge or grind. + +Mr. Raby drew in haughtily at this interference. + +It soon transpired that Mr. James Little had died hopelessly insolvent, +and the L1900 would really have been ingulfed. + +Raby waited for this fact to sink into his sister's mind; and then one +day nature tugged so at his heart-strings, that he dashed off a warm +letter beginning--"My poor Edith, let bygones be bygones," and inviting +her and her boy to live with him at Raby Hall. + +The heart-broken widow sent back a reply, in a handwriting scarcely +recognizable as hers. Instead of her usual precise and delicate hand, +the letters were large, tremulous, and straggling, and the lines slanted +downward. + + +"Write to me, speak to me, no more. For pity's sake let me forget there +is a man in the world who is my brother and his murderer. + +"EDITH." + + +Guy opened this letter with a hopeful face, and turned pale as ashes at +the contents. + +But his conscience was clear, and his spirit high. "Unjust idiot!" he +muttered, and locked her letter up in his desk. + +Next morning he received a letter from Joseph Little, in a clear, stiff, +perpendicular writing: + + +"SIR,--I find my sister-in-law wrote you, yesterday, a harsh letter, +which I do not approve; and have told her as much. Deceased's affairs +were irretrievable, and I blame no other man for his rash act, which may +God forgive! As to your kind and generous invitation, it deserves her +gratitude; but Mrs. Little and myself have mingled our tears together +over my poor brother's grave, and now we do not care to part. Before +your esteemed favor came to hand, it had been settled she should leave +this sad neighborhood and keep my house at Birmingham, where she will +meet with due respect. I am only a small tradesman; but I can pay my +debts, and keep the pot boiling. Will teach the boy some good trade, and +make him a useful member of society, if I am spared. + +"I am, sir, yours respectfully, + +"JOSEPH LITTLE." + + +"Sir,--I beg to acknowledge, with thanks, your respectable letter. + +"As all direct communication between Mrs. James Little and myself is at +an end, oblige me with your address in Birmingham, that I may remit to +you, half-yearly, as her agent, the small sum that has escaped bricks +and mortar. + +"When her son comes of age, she will probably forgive me for declining +to defraud him of his patrimony. + +"But it will be too late; for I shall never forgive her, alive or dead. + +"I am, sir, your obedient servant, + +"GUY RABY." + + +When he had posted this letter he turned Edith's picture to the wall, +and wrote on the canvas-- + + +"GONE INTO TRADE." + + +He sent for his attorney, made a new will, and bequeathed his land, +houses, goods, and chattels, to Dissolute Dick and his heirs forever. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +The sorrowful widow was so fond of her little Henry, and the uncertainty +of life was so burnt into her now, that she could hardly bear him out of +her sight. Yet her love was of the true maternal stamp; not childish and +self-indulgent. She kept him from school, for fear he should be brought +home dead to her; but she gave her own mind with zeal to educate him. +Nor was she unqualified. If she had less learning than school-masters, +she knew better how to communicate what she did know to a budding mind. +She taught him to read fluently, and to write beautifully; and she +coaxed him, as only a woman can, over the dry elements of music and +arithmetic. She also taught him dancing and deportment, and to sew on +a button. He was a quick boy at nearly everything, but, when he was +fourteen, his true genius went ahead of his mere talents; he showed +a heaven-born gift for--carving in wood. This pleased Joseph Little +hugely, and he fostered it judiciously. + +The boy worked, and thought, and in time arrived at such delicacies of +execution, he became discontented with the humdrum tools then current. +"Then learn to make your own, boy," cried Joseph Little, joyfully; and +so initiated him into the whole mystery of hardening, forging, grinding, +handle-making, and cutlery: and Henry, young and enthusiastic, took his +turn at them all in right down earnest. + +At twenty, he had sold many a piece of delicate carving, and could make +graving-tools incomparably superior to any he could buy; and, for his +age, was an accomplished mechanic. + +Joseph Little went the way of all flesh. + +They mourned and missed him; and, at Henry's earnest request, his mother +disposed of the plant, and went with him to London. + +Then the battle of life began. He was a long time out of employment, and +they both lived on his mother's little fortune. + +But Henry was never idle. He set up a little forge hard by, and worked +at it by day, and at night he would often sit carving, while his mother +read to him, and said he, "Mother, I'll never rest till I can carve the +bloom upon a plum." + +Not to dwell on the process, the final result was this. He rose at last +to eminence as a carver: but as an inventor and forger of carving tools +he had no rival in England. + +Having with great labor, patience, and skill, completed a masterpiece of +carving (there were plums with the bloom on, and other incredibles), +and also a set of carving-tools equally exquisite in their way, he got a +popular tradesman to exhibit both the work and the tools in his window, +on a huge silver salver. + +The thing made a good deal of noise in the trade, and drew many +spectators to the shop window. + +One day Mr. Cheetham, a master-cutler, stood in admiration before the +tools, and saw his way to coin the workman. + +This Cheetham was an able man, and said to himself, "I'll nail him for +Hillsborough, directly. London mustn't have a hand that can beat us at +anything in our line." + +He found Henry out, and offered him constant employment, as a forger and +cutler of carving-tools, at L4 per week. + +Henry's black eyes sparkled, but he restrained himself. "That's to be +thought of. I must speak to my old lady. She is not at home just now." + +He did speak to her, and she put her two hands together and said, +"Hillsborough! Oh Henry!" and the tears stood in her eyes directly. + +"Well, don't fret," said he: "it is only saying no." + +So when Mr. Cheetham called again for the reply, Henry declined, with +thanks. On this, Mr. Cheetham never moved, but smiled, and offered him +L6 per week, and his journey free. + +Henry went into another room, and argued the matter. "Come, mother, he +is up to L6 a week now; and that is every shilling I'm worth; and, when +I get an apprentice, it will be L9 clear to us." + +"The sight of the place!" objected Mrs. Little, hiding her face in her +hands instinctively. + +He kissed her, and talked good manly sense to her, and begged her to +have more courage. + +She was little able to deny him, and she consented; but cried, out of +his sight, a good many times about it. + +As for Henry, strong in the consciousness of power and skill, he felt +glad he was going to Hillsborough. "Many a workman has risen to the +top of the tree in that place," said he. "Why, this very Cheetham was +grinding saws in a water-wheel ten years ago, I've heard uncle Joe say. +Come, mother, don't you be a baby! I'll settle you in a cottage outside +the smoke; you shall make a palace of it; and we'll rise in the very +town where we fell, and friends and foes shall see us." + +Mr. Cheetham purchased both the carving and the tools to exhibit in +Hillsborough; and the purchase-money, less a heavy commission, was paid +to Henry. He showed Mrs. Little thirty pounds, and helped her pack up; +and next day they reached Hillsborough by train. + +Henry took a close cab, and carried his mother off to the suburbs in +search of a lodging. She wore a thick veil, and laid her head on her +son's shoulder, and held his brown though elegant hand with her white +fingers, that quivered a little as she passed through the well-known +streets. + +As for Henry, he felt quite triumphant and grand, and consoled her in an +off-hand, hearty way. "Come, cheer up, and face the music. They have all +forgotten you by this time, and, when they do see you again, you shall +be as good as the best of them. I don't drink, and I've got a trade all +to myself here, and I'd rather make my fortune in this town than any +other; and, mother, you have been a good friend to me; I won't ever +marry till I have done you justice, and made you the queen of this very +town." + +And so he rattled on, in such high spirits, that the great soft thing +began to smile with motherly love and pride through her tears, ere they +found a lodging. + +Next day to the works, and there the foreman showed him a small forge on +the ground floor, and a vacant room above to make his handles in and put +the tools together; the blades were to be ground, whetted, and finished +by cheaper hands. + +A quick-eared grinder soon came up to them, and said roughly, "Ain't we +to wet new forge?" + +"They want their drink out of you," said the foreman; and whispered, in +great anxiety, "Don't say no, or you might as well work in a wasp's nest +as here." + +"All right," said Henry, cheerfully. "I'm no drinker myself, but I'll +stand what is customary." + +"That is right," said Foreman Bayne. "'Twill cost you fifteen shillings. +But Peace is cheap at as many guineas." + +The word was given, and every man who worked on the same floor with +Henry turned out to drink at his expense, and left off work for a good +hour. With some exceptions they were a rough lot, and showed little +friendliness or good-humor over it. One even threw out a hint that no +cockney forges were wanted in Hillsborough. But another took him up, and +said, "Maybe not; but you are not much of a man to drink his liquor and +grudge him his bread." + +After this waste of time and money, Henry went back to the works, and a +workman told him rather sulkily, he was wanted in the foreman's office. + +He went in, and there was a lovely girl of eighteen, who looked at him +with undisguised curiosity, and addressed him thus: "Sir, is it you that +carve wood so beautifully?" + +Henry blushed, and hesitated; and that made the young lady blush herself +a very little, and she said, "I wished to take lessons in carving." +Then, as he did not reply, she turned to Mr. Bayne. "But perhaps he +objects to teach other people?" + +"WE should object to his teaching other workmen," said the foreman; +"but," turning to Henry, "there is no harm in your giving her a lesson +or two, after hours. You will want a set of the tools, miss?" + +"Of course I shall. Please put them into the carriage; and--when will he +come and teach me, I wonder? for I am wild to begin." + +Henry said he could come Saturday afternoon, or Monday morning early. + +"Whichever you please," said the lady, and put down her card on the +desk; then tripped away to her carriage, leaving Henry charmed with her +beauty and ease. + +He went home to his mother, and told her he was to give lessons to the +handsomest young lady he had ever seen. "She has bought the specimen +tools too; so I must forge some more, and lose no time about it." + +"Who is she, I wonder?" + +"Here is her card. 'Miss Carden, Woodbine Villa, Heath Hill.'" + +"Carden!" said the widow. Then, after a moment's thought, "Oh, Henry, +don't go near them. Ah, I knew how it would be. Hillsborough is not like +London. You can't be long hid in it." + +"Why, what is the matter? Do you know the lady?" + +"Oh, yes. Her papa is director of an insurance company in London. I +remember her being born very well. The very day she was christened--her +name is Grace--you were six years old, and I took you to her +christening; and oh, Harry, my brother is her godfather. Don't you +go near that Grace Carden; don't visit any one that knew us in better +days." + +"Why, what have we to be ashamed of?" said Henry. "'Tisn't as if we +sat twiddling our thumbs and howling, 'We have seen better days.' And +'tisn't as if we asked favors of anybody. For my part I don't care who +knows I am here, and can make three hundred a year with my own hands +and wrong no man. I'd rather be a good workman in wood and steel than an +arrogant old fool like your b--. No, I won't own him for yours or mine +either--call him Raby. Well, I wouldn't change places with him, nor any +of his sort: I'm a British workman, and worth a dozen Rabys--useless +scum!" + +"That you are, dear; so don't demean yourself to give any of them +lessons. Her godfather would be sure to hear of it." + +"Well, I won't, to please you. But you have no more pluck than a +chicken--begging your pardon, mother." + +"No, dear," said Mrs. Little, humbly, quite content to gain her point +and lose her reputation for pluck; if any. + +Henry worked regularly, and fast, and well, and in less than a fortnight +a new set of his carving-tools were on view in Hillsborough, and another +in London; for it was part of Mr. Cheetham's strategy to get all +the London orders, and even make London believe that these superior +instruments had originated in Hillsborough. + +One day Miss Carden called and saw Bayne in the office. Her vivid +features wore an expression of vexation, and she complained to him that +the wood-carver had never been near her. + +Bayne was surprised at that; but he was a man who always allayed +irritation on the spot. "Rely on it, there's some reason," said he. +"Perhaps he has not got settled. I'll go for him directly." + +"Thank you," said the young lady. Then in the same breath, "No, take me +to him, and perhaps we may catch him carving--cross thing!" + +Bayne assented cheerfully, and led the way across a yard, and up a +dirty stone stair, which, solid as it was, vibrated with the powerful +machinery that steam was driving on every side of it. He opened a door +suddenly, and Henry looked up from his work, and saw the invaders. + +He stared a little at first, and then got up and looked embarrassed and +confused. + +"You did not keep your word, sir," said Grace, quietly. + +"No," he muttered, and hung his head. + +He seemed so confused and ashamed, that Bayne came to his assistance. +"The fact is, no workman likes to do a hand's-turn on Saturday +afternoon. I think they would rather break Sunday than Saturday." + +"It is not that," said Henry, in a low voice. + +Grace heard him, but answered Mr. Bayne: "Oh dear, I wish I had known. I +fear I have made an unreasonable request: for, of course, after working +so hard all the week--but then why did you let me purchase the tools to +carve with? Papa says they are very dear, Mr. Bayne. But that is what +gentlemen always say if one buys anything that is really good. But of +course they WILL be dear, if I am not to be taught how to use them." +She then looked in Mr. Bayne's face with an air of infantine simplicity: +"Would Mr. Cheetham take them back, I wonder, under the circumstances?" + +At this sly thrust, Bayne began to look anxious; but Henry relieved him +the next moment by saying, in a sort of dogged way, "There, there; I'll +come." He added, after a pause, "I will give you six lessons, if you +like." + +"I shall be so much obliged. When will you come, sir?" + +"Next Saturday, at three o'clock." + +"I shall be sure to be at home, sir." + +She then said something polite about not disturbing him further, and +vanished with an arch smile of pleasure and victory, that disclosed a +row of exquisite white teeth, and haunted Henry Little for many a day +after. + +He told his mother what had happened, and showed so much mortified pride +that she no longer dissuaded him from keeping his word. "Only pray don't +tell her your name," said she. + +"Well, but what am I to do if she asks it?" + +"Say Thompson, or Johnson, or anything you like, except Little." + +This request roused Henry's bile. "What, am I a criminal to deny my +name? And how shall I look, if I go and give her a false name, and then +she comes to Bayne and learns my right one? No, I'll keep my name back, +if I can; but I'll never disown it. I'm not ashamed of it, if you are." + +This reduced poor Mrs. Little to silence; followed, in due course, by a +few meek, clandestine tears. + +Henry put on his new tweed suit and hat, and went up to the villa. He +announced himself as the workman from Cheetham's; and the footman, who +had probably his orders, ushered him into the drawing-room at once. +There he found Grace Carden seated, reading, and a young woman sewing at +a respectful distance. This pair were types; Grace, of a young English +gentlewoman, and Jael Dence of a villager by unbroken descent. Grace was +tall, supple, and serpentine, yet not thin; Jael was robust and ample, +without being fat; she was of the same height, though Grace looked the +taller. Grace had dark brown eyes and light brown hair; and her blooming +cheek and bewitching mouth shone with expression so varied, yet vivid, +and always appropriate to the occasion, grave or gay, playful or +dignified, that her countenance made artificial faces, and giggling +in-the-wrong-place faces, painfully ridiculous. As for such faces as +Jael's, it killed them on the spot, but that was all. Jael's hair was +reddish, and her full eyes were gray; she was freckled a little under +the eyes, but the rest of her cheek full of rich pure color, healthy, +but not the least coarse: and her neck an alabaster column. Hers was a +meek, monotonous countenance; but with a certain look of concentration. +Altogether, a humble beauty of the old rural type; healthy, cleanly, +simple, candid, yet demure. + +Henry came in, and the young lady received him with a manner very +different from that she had worn down at the works. She was polite, but +rather stiff and dignified. + +He sat down at her request, and, wondering at himself, entered on the +office of preceptor. He took up the carving-tools, and explained the use +of several; then offered, by way of illustration, to work on something. + +"That will be the best way, much," said Grace quietly, but her eye +sparkled. + +"I dare say there's some lumber to be found in a great house like this?" + +"Lumber? why, there's a large garret devoted to it. Jael, please take +him to the lumber-room." + +Jael fixed her needle in her work, and laid it down gently on a table +near her, then rose and led the way to the lumber-room. + +In that invaluable repository Henry soon found two old knobs lying on +the ground (a four-poster had been wrecked hard by) and a piece of deal +plank jutting out of a mass of things. He pulled hard at the plank; but +it was long, and so jammed in by miscellaneous articles, that he could +not get it clear. + +Jael looked on demurely at his efforts for some time; then she suddenly +seized the plank a little higher up. "Now, pull," said she, and gave +a tug like a young elephant: out came the plank directly, with a great +rattle of dislocated lumber. + +"Well, you are a strong one," said Henry. + +"Oh, one and one makes two, sir," replied the vigorous damsel, modestly. + +"That is true, but you threw your weight into it like a workman. Now +hand me that rusty old saw, and I'll cut off as much as we want." + +While he was sawing off a piece of the plank, Jael stood and eyed him +silently a while. But presently her curiosity oozed out. "If you please, +sir, be you really a working man?" + +"Why, what else should I be?" was the answer, given rather brusquely. + +"A great many gentlefolks comes here as is no better dressed nor you +be." + +"Dress is no rule. Don't you go and take me for a gentleman, or we +sha'n't agree. Wait till I'm as arrogant, and empty, and lazy as they +are. I am a workman, and proud of it." + +"It's naught to be ashamed on, that's certain," said Jael. "I've carried +many a sack of grain up into our granary, and made a few hundred-weight +of cheese and butter, besides house-work and farm-work. Bless your +heart, I bayn't idle when I be at home." + +"And pray where is your home?" asked Henry, looking up a moment, not +that he cared one straw. + +"If you please, sir, I do come from Cairnhope village. I'm old Nat +Dence's daughter. There's two of us, and I'm the youngest. Squire sent +me in here, because miss said Hillsborough girls wasn't altogether +honest. She is a dear kind young lady; but I do pine for home and the +farm at times; and frets about the young calves: they want so much +looking after. And sister, she's a-courting, and can't give her mind to +'em as should be. I'll carry the board for you, sir." + +"All right," said Henry carelessly; but, as they went along, he thought +to himself, "So a skilled workman passes for a gentleman with rustics: +fancy that!" + +On their return to the drawing-room, Henry asked for a high wooden +stool, or chair, and said it would be as well to pin some newspapers +over the carpet. A high stool was soon got from the kitchen, and +Jael went promptly down on her knees, and crawled about, pinning the +newspapers in a large square. + +Henry stood apart, superior, and thought to himself, "So much for +domestic servitude. What a position for a handsome girl--creeping about +on all fours!" + +When all was ready, he drew some arabesque forms with his pencil on the +board. He then took an exquisite little saw he had invented for this +work, and fell upon the board with a rapidity that, contrasted with +his previous nonchalance, looked like fury. But he was one of your fast +workmen. The lithe saw seemed to twist in his hand like a serpent, +and in a very short time he had turned four feet of the board into +open-work. He finished the edges off with his cutting tools, and there +was a transformation as complete as of linen cloth turned lace. + +Grace was delighted. "Shall I ever be able to do that?" + +"In half a day. That's not carving; that's trickery. The tool does it +all. Before I invented this saw, a good workman would have been a day +over that; but now YOU can do it in half an hour, when you are master of +the instrument. And now I'll show you honest work." He took one of the +knobs and examined it; then sawed off a piece, and worked on the rest +so cunningly with his various cutters, that it grew into a human face +toward their very eyes. He even indicated Jael Dence's little flat cap +by a means at once simple and ingenious. All the time he was working the +women's eyes literally absorbed him; only those of Grace flashed vivid +curiosity, Jael's open orbs were fixed with admiration and awe upon his +supernatural cleverness. + +He now drew some more arabesques on the remaining part of the board, +and told Miss Carden she must follow those outlines with the saw, and he +would examine her work on Monday morning. He then went off with a quick, +independent air, as one whose every minute was gold. + +"If you please, miss," said Jael, "is he a real working man, or only a +gentleman as makes it his pastime?" + +"A gentleman! What an idea! Of course he is a working man. But a very +superior person." + +"To be sure," continued Jael, not quite convinced, "he don't come up to +Squire Raby; but, dear heart, he have a grander way with him than most +of the Hillsborough gentlefolks as calls here." + +"Nonsense!" said Grace, authoritatively. "Look at his nails." + +Henry came twice a week, and his pupil made remarkable progress. She was +deferential, attentive, enthusiastic. + +By degrees the work led to a little conversation; and that, in due +course, expanded into a variety of subjects; and the young lady, to +her surprise, found her carver well-read in History and Sciences, and +severely accurate in his information, whereas her own, though abundant, +was rather loose. + +One day she expressed her surprise that he could have found time to be +so clever with his fingers and yet cultivate his mind. + +"Well," said he, "I was lucky enough to have a good mother. She taught +me all she knew, and she gave me a taste for reading; and that has been +the making of me; kept me out of the public-house, for one thing." + +"Ah! you WERE fortunate. I lost my mother, sir, when I was but eight +years old." + +"Oh dear, that was a bad job," said Henry brusquely but kindly. + +"A very bad job," said Grace, smiling; but the next moment she suddenly +turned her fair head away and tears stole down her cheeks. + +Henry looked very sorry, and Jael, without moving, looked at Grace, and +opened those sluices, her eyes, and two big drops of sympathy rolled +down her comely face in a moment. + +That day, when young Little shut the street-door of "Woodbine Villa" and +stepped into the road, a sort of dull pain seemed to traverse his chest. +It made his heart ache a little, this contrast of the sweet society +he had left and the smoky town toward which he now turned his face. He +seemed to be ejected from Paradise for the next five days. It was Monday +yet he wished the next day was Saturday, and the intervening period +could be swept away, so that he might be entering that soft Paradise +instead of leaving it. + +And this sentiment, once rooted, grew rapidly in an aspiring nature, and +a heart that had never yet entertained a serious passion. Now the fair +head that bowed over the work so near him, the lovely hand he had so +often to direct, and almost to guide, and all the other perfections of +mind and body this enchanting girl possessed, crept in at his admiring +eyes, and began to steal into his very veins, and fill him with soft +complacency. His brusque manner dissolved away, and his voice became low +and soft, whenever he was in her delicious presence. He spoke softly to +Jael even, if Grace was there. The sturdy workman was enthralled. + +Often he wondered at himself. Sometimes he felt alarmed at the strength +of his passion and the direction it had taken. + +"What," said he, "have I flirted with so many girls in my own way +of life, and come away heart-whole, and now to fall in love with a +gentlewoman, who would bid her footman show me the door if she knew of +my presumption!" + +But these misgivings could neither cure him nor cow him. Let him only +make money, and become a master instead of a workman, and then he would +say to her, "I don't value birth myself, but if you do, why, I am not +come of workpeople." + +He traced a plan with workmanlike precision:--Profound discretion +and self-restraint at "Woodbine Villa:" restless industry and stern +self-denial in Hillsborough. + +After his day's work he used to go straight to his mother. She gave him +a cup of tea, and then they had their chat; and after that the sexes +were inverted, so to speak: the man carved fruit, and flowers, and dead +woodcocks, the woman read the news and polities of the day, and the +essays on labor and capital, and any other articles not too flimsy +to bear reading aloud to a man whose time was coin. (There was a free +library in Hillsborough, and a mechanic could take out standard books +and reviews.) Thus they passed the evening hours agreeably, and usefully +too, for Henry sucked in knowledge like a leech, and at the same time +carved things that sold well in London. He had a strong inclination to +open his heart about Miss Carden. Accordingly, one evening he said, "She +lost her mother when she was a child." + +"Who lost her mother?" asked Mrs. Little. + +"Miss Carden," said Henry, very softly. + +The tone was not lost on Mrs. Little's fine and watchful ear; at least +her mind seized it a few seconds afterward. + +"That is true," said she. "Poor girl! I remember hearing of it. Henry, +what is that to you? Don't you trouble your head about that young lady, +or she will trouble your heart. I wish you did not go near her." + +And then came question upon question, and vague maternal misgivings. +Henry parried them as adroitly as he could: but never mentioned Miss +Carden's name again. + +He thought of her all the more, and counted his gains every week, and +began to inquire of experienced persons how much money was wanted to +set up a wheel with steam power, and be a master instead of a man. He +gathered that a stranger could hardly start fair without L500. + +"That is a good lump!" thought Henry: "but I'll have it, if I work night +as well as day." + +Thus inspired, his life became a sweet delirium. When he walked, he +seemed to tread on air: when he forged, his hammer felt a feather in +his hand. The mountains in the way looked molehills, and the rainbow +tangible, to Youth, and Health, and Hope, and mighty Love. + + +One afternoon, as he put on his coat and crossed the yard, after a +day's work that had passed like a pleasant hour, being gilded with such +delightful anticipations, the foreman of the works made him a mysterious +signal. Henry saw it, and followed him into his office. Bayne looked +carefully out of all the doors, then closed them softly, and his face +betrayed anxiety, and even fear. + +"Little," said he, almost in a whisper, "you know me: I'm a man of +peace, and so for love of peace I'm going to do something that might get +me into a wrangle. But you are the civillest chap ever worked under me +and the best workman, take you altogether, and I can't bear to see you +kept in the dark, when you are the man whose skin--only--if I act like a +man to you, will you act like one to me?" + +"I will," said Henry; "there's my hand on it." + +Then Bayne stepped to his desk, opened it, and took out some letters. + +"You must never tell a soul I showed them you, or you will get me into a +row with Cheetham; and I want to be at peace in-doors as well as out." + +"I give you my word." + +"Then read that, to begin." + +And he handed him a letter addressed to Mr. Cheetham. + + +"SIR,--We beg respectfully to draw your attention to a matter, which +is of a nature to cause unpleasantness between you and the Trades. We +allude to your bringing a workman in from another town to do work that +we are informed can be done on the premises by your own hands. + +"We assure you it would be more to your interest to work in harmony +with the smiths and the handle-makers in your employ, and the trade +generally. Yours respectfully, + +"THE COMMITTEE OF THE EDGE-TOOL FORGERS' UNION." + + +Henry colored up at this, and looked grieved; but he said, "I am sorry +to be the cause of any unpleasantness. But what can I do?" + +"Oh," said Bayne, with a sardonic grin, "they are sure to tell you that, +soon or late. Read this:" + +No. 2 was dated a week later, and ran thus: + + +"MR. CHEETHAM: SIR,--I think you do very ill to annoy a many craftsmen +for one. Remember, you have suffered loss and inconvenience whenever +you have gone against Trades. We had to visit you last year, and when +we came your bands went and your bellows gaped. We have no wish to come +again this year, if you will be reasonable. But, sir, you must part with +London hand, or take consequences. + +"BALAAM." + + +Henry looked grave. "Can I see a copy of Mr. Cheetham's reply?" + +Bayne stared at him, and then laughed in his face, but without the +gayety that should accompany a laugh. "Cheetham's reply to Balaam! And +where would he send it? To Mr. Beor's lodgings, No. 1 Prophet Place, Old +Testament Square. My poor chap, nobody writes replies to these letters. +When you get one, you go that minute to the secretary of whatever Union +you are wrong with, and you don't argue, or he bids you good-morning; +you give in to whatever he asks, and then you get civility; and justice +too, according to Trade lights. If you don't do that, and haven't +learned what a blessing Peace is, why, you make up your mind to fight +the Trade; and if you do, you have to fight them all; and you are safe +to get the worst of it, soon or late. Cheetham has taken no notice of +these letters. All the worse for him and you too. Read that." + +No. 3 ran thus: + + +"DEAR SIR,--I take the liberty of addressing you on the subject of your +keeping on this knobstick, in defiance of them that has the power to +make stones of Hillsborough too hot for you and him. Are you deaf, or +blind, or a fool, Jack Cheatem? You may cheat the world, but you don't +cheat the devil, nor me. Turn cockney up, with no more ado, or you'll +both get kicked to hell some dark night by + +"BALAAM'S ASS." + + +Henry was silent; quite silent. When he did speak, it was to ask why Mr. +Cheetham had kept all this from him. + +"Because you shouldn't take fright and leave him," was the unhesitating +reply. + +"For that matter they threaten him more than they do me." + +"They warn the master first; but the workman's turn is sure to come, +and he gets it hottest, because they have so many ways of doing him. +Cheetham, he lives miles from here, and rides in across country, and +out again, in daylight. But the days are drawing in, and you have got +to pass through these dark streets, where the Trades have a thousand +friends, and you not one. Don't you make any mistake: you are in their +power; so pray don't copy any hot-headed, wrong-headed gentleman like +Cheetham, but speak them fair. Come to terms--if you can--and let us be +at peace; sweet, balmy peace." + +"Peace is a good thing, no doubt," said Henry, "but" (rather bitterly) +"I don't thank Cheetham for letting me run blindfold into trouble, and +me a stranger." + +"Oh," said Bayne, "he is no worse than the rest, believe me. What does +any master care for a man's life? Profit and loss go down in figures; +but life--that's a cipher in all their ledgers." + +"Oh, come," said Harry, "it is unphilosophical and narrow-minded to +fasten on a class the faults of a few individuals, that form a very +moderate portion of that class." + +Bayne seemed staggered by a blow so polysyllabic; and Henry, to finish +him, added, "Where there's a multitude, there's a mixture." Now the +first sentence he had culled from the Edinburgh Review, and the second +he had caught from a fellow-workman's lips in a public-house; and +probably this was the first time the pair of phrases had ever walked out +of any man's mouth arm in arm. He went on to say, "And as for Cheetham, +he is not a bad fellow, take him altogether. But you are a better for +telling me the truth. Forewarned, forearmed." + +He went home thoughtful, and not so triumphant and airy as yesterday; +but still not dejected, for his young and manly mind summoned its energy +and spirit to combat this new obstacle, and his wits went to work. + +Being unable to sleep for thinking of what he should do he was the first +to reach the works in the morning. He lighted his furnace, and then went +and unlocked the room where he worked as a handle maker, and also as a +cutler. He entered briskly and opened the window. The gray light of the +morning came in, and showed him something on the inside of the door that +was not there when he locked it overnight. It was a very long knife, +broad toward the handle, but keenly pointed, and double-edged. It was +fast in the door, and impaled a letter addressed, in a vile hand-- + + +"TO JAK THRE TRADES." + + +Henry took hold of the handle to draw the knife out; but the formidable +weapon had been driven clean through the door with a single blow. + +Then Henry drew back, and, as the confusion of surprise cleared away, +the whole thing began to grow on him, and reveal distinct and alarming +features. + +The knife was not one which the town manufactured in the way of +business, it was a long, glittering blade, double-edged, finely pointed, +and exquisitely tempered. It was not a tool, but a weapon. + +Why was it there, and, above all, how did it come there? + +He distinctly remembered locking the door overnight. Indeed, he had +found it locked, and the window-shutters bolted; yet there was this +deadly weapon, and on its point a letter, the superscription of which +looked hostile and sinister. + +He drew the note gently across the edge of the keen knife, and the paper +parted like a cobweb. He took it to the window and read it. It ran thus: + + +"This knifs wun of too made ekspres t'other is for thy hart if thou +doesnt harken Trade and leve Chetm. Is thy skin thicks dore thinks +thou if not turn up and back to Lundon or I cum again and rip thy ---- +carkiss with feloe blade to this thou ---- cokny + +"SLIPER JACK." + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +Any one who reads it by the fireside may smile at the incongruous +mixture of a sanguinary menace with bad spelling. But deeds of blood had +often followed these scrawls in Hillsborough, and Henry knew it: and, +indeed, he who can not spell his own name correctly is the very man to +take his neighbor's life without compunction; since mercy is a fruit of +knowledge, and cruelty of ignorance. + +And then there was something truly chilling in the mysterious entrance +of this threat on a dagger's point into a room he had locked overnight. +It implied supernatural craft and power. After this, where could a man +be safe from these all-penetrating and remorseless agents of a secret +and irresponsible tribunal. + +Henry sat down awhile, and pored over the sanguinary scrawl, and glanced +from it with a shudder at the glittering knife. And, while he was in +this state of temporary collapse, the works filled, the Power moved, the +sonorous grindstones revolved, and every man worked at his ease, except +one, the best of them all beyond comparison. + +He went to his friend Bayne, and said in a broken voice, "They have put +me in heart for work; given me a morning dram. Look here." Bayne was +shocked, but not surprised. "It is the regular routine," said he. "They +begin civil; but if you don't obey, they turn it over to the scum." + +"Do you think my life is really in danger?" + +"No, not yet; I never knew a man molested on one warning. This is just +to frighten you. If you were to take no notice, you'd likely get another +warning, or two, at most; and then they'd do you, as sure as a gun." + +"Do me?" + +"Oh, that is the Hillsborough word. It means to disable a man from work. +Sometimes they lie in wait in these dark streets, and fracture his skull +with life-preservers; or break his arm, or cut the sinew of his wrist; +and that they call DOING him. Or, if it is a grinder, they'll put powder +in his trough, and then the sparks of his own making fire it, and scorch +him, and perhaps blind him for life; that's DOING him. They have gone as +far as shooting men with shot, and even with a bullet, but never so as +to kill the man dead on the spot. They DO him. They are skilled workmen, +you know; well, they are skilled workmen at violence and all, and it is +astonishing how they contrive to stop within an inch of murder. They'll +chance it though sometimes with their favorite gunpowder. If you're very +wrong with the trade, and they can't DO you any other way, they'll blow +your house up from the cellar, or let a can of powder down the chimney, +with a lighted fuse, or fling a petard in at the window, and they take +the chance of killing a houseful of innocent people, to get at the one +that's on the black books of the trade, and has to be DONE." + +"The beasts! I'll buy a six-shooter. I'll meet craft with craft, and +force with force." + +"What can you do against ten thousand? No; go you at once to the +Secretary of the Edge-Tool Grinders, and get your trade into his Union. +You will have to pay; but don't mind that. Cheetham will go halves." + +"I'll go at dinner-time." + +"And why not now?" + +"Because," said Henry, with a candor all his own, "I'm getting over my +fright a bit, and my blood is beginning to boil at being threatened by a +sneak, who wouldn't stand before me one moment in that yard, knife or no +knife." + +Bayne smiled a friendly but faint smile, and shook his head with grave +disapprobation, and said, with wonder, "Fancy postponing Peace!" + +Henry went to his forge and worked till dinner-time. Nay, more, was a +beautiful whistler, and always whistled a little at his work: so to-day +he whistled a great deal: in fact, he over-whistled. + +At dinner-time he washed his face and hands and put on his coat to go +out. + +But he had soon some reason to regret that he had not acted on Bayne's +advice to the letter. There had been a large trade's meeting overnight, +and the hostility to the London craftsman had spread more widely, in +consequence of remarks that had been there made. This emboldened the +lower class of workmen, who already disliked him out of pure envy, and +had often scowled at him in silence; and, now, as he passed them, they +spoke at him, in their peculiar language, which the great friend +and supporter of mechanics in general, The Hillsborough Liberal, +subsequently christened "THE DASH DIALECT." + +"We want no ---- cockneys here, to steal our work." + +"Did ever a ---- anvil-man handle his own blades in Hillsborough?" + +"Not till this ---- knobstick came," said another. + +Henry turned sharp round upon them haughtily, and such was the power of +his prompt defiant attitude, and his eye, which flashed black lightning, +that there was a slight movement of recoil among the actual speakers. +They recovered it immediately, strong in numbers; but in that same +moment Little also recovered his discretion, and he had the address to +step briskly toward the gate and call out the porter; he said to him in +rather a loud voice, for all to hear, "if anybody asks for Henry Little, +say he has gone to the Secretary of the Edge-Tool Forgers' Union." He +then went out of the works; but, as he went, he heard some respectable +workman say to the scum, "Come, shut up now. It is in better hands than +yours." + +Mr. Jobson, the Secretary of the Edge-Tool Forgers, was not at home, +but his servant-girl advised Little to try the "Rising Sun;" and in the +parlor of that orb he found Mr. Jobson, in company with other magnates +of the same class, discussing a powerful leader of The Hillsborough +Liberal, in which was advocated the extension of the franchise, +a measure calculated to throw prodigious power into the hands of +Hillsborough operatives, because of their great number, and their habit +of living each workman in a tenement of his own, however small. + +Little waited till The Liberal had received its meed of approbation, +and then asked respectfully if he might speak to Mr. Jobson on a trade +matter. "Certainly," said Mr. Jobson. "Who are you?" + +"My name is Little. I make the carving-tools at Cheetham's." + +"I'll go home with you; my house is hard by." + +When they got to the house, Jobson told him to sit down, and asked +him, in a smooth and well-modulated voice, what was the nature of the +business. This query, coming from him, who had set the stone rolling +that bade fair to crush him, rather surprised Henry. He put his hand +into his pocket, and produced the threatening note, but said nothing as +to the time or manner of its arrival. + +Mr. Jobson perused it carefully, and then returned it to Henry. "What +have we to do with this?" and he looked quite puzzled. + +"Why, sir, it is the act of your Union." + +"You are sadly misinformed, Mr. Little. WE NEVER THREATEN. All we do +is to remind the master that, if he does not do certain things, certain +other things will probably be done by us; and this we wrap up in the +kindest way." + +"But, sir, you wrote to Cheetham against me." + +"Did we? Then it will be in my letter-book." He took down a book, +examined it, and said, "You are quite right. Here's a copy of the +letter. Now surely, sir, comparing the language, the manners, and +the spelling, with that of the ruffian whose scrawl you received this +morning--" + +"Then you disown the ruffian's threat?" + +"Most emphatically. And if you can trace it home, he shall smart for +interfering in our business." + +"Oh, if the trade disowns the blackguard, I can despise him. But +you can't wonder at my thinking all these letters were steps of the +same--yes, and Mr. Bayne thought so too; for he said this was the +regular routine, and ends in DOING a poor fellow for gaining his bread." + +Mr. Jobson begged to explain. + +"Many complaints are brought to us, who advise the trades. When they +are frivolous, we are unwilling to disturb the harmony of employers and +workmen; we reason with the complainant, and the thing dies away. When +the grievance is substantial, we take it out of the individual's hands +and lay it before the working committee. A civil note is sent to the +master; or a respectable member of the committee calls on him, and urges +him to redress the grievance, but always in kind and civil terms. The +master generally assents: experience has taught him it is his wisest +course. But if he refuses, we are bound to report the refusal to a +larger committee, and sometimes a letter emanates from them, reminding +the master that he has been a loser before by acts of injustice, and +hinting that he may be a loser again. I do not quite approve this form +of communication. But certainly it has often prevented the mischief +from spreading further. Well, but perhaps he continues rebellious. What +follows? We can't lock up facts that affect the trade; we are bound to +report the case at the next general meeting. It excites comments, some +of them perhaps a little intemperate; the lower kind of workmen get +inflamed with passion, and often, I am sorry to say, write ruffianly +letters, and now and then do ruffianly acts, which disgrace the town, +and are strongly reprobated by us. Why, Mr. Little, it has been my lot +to send a civil remonstrance, written with my own hand, in pretty fair +English--for a man who plied bellows and hammer twenty years of my +life--and be treated with silent contempt; and two months after to be +offering a reward of twenty or thirty pounds, for the discovery of some +misguided man, that had taken on himself to right this very matter with +a can of gunpowder, or some such coarse expedient." + +"Yes, but, sir, what hurts me is, you don't consider me to be worth a +civil note. You only remonstrated with Cheetham." + +"You can't wonder at that. Our trade hasn't been together many years: +and what drove us together? The tyranny of our employers. What has kept +us together? The bitter experience of hard work and little pay, whenever +we were out of union. Those who now direct the trades are old enough to +remember when we were all ground down to the dust by the greedy masters; +and therefore it is natural, when a grievance arises, we should be +inclined to look to those old offenders for redress in the first +instance. Sometimes the masters convince us the fault lies with workmen; +and then we trouble the master no more than we are forced to do in +order to act upon the offenders. But, to come to the point: what is your +proposal?" + +"I beg to be admitted into the union." + +"What union?" + +"Why, of course, the one I have offended, through ignorance. The +edge-tool forgers." + +Jobson shook his head, and said he feared there were one or two +objections. + +Henry saw it was no use bidding low. "I'll pay L15 down," said he, +"and I'll engage not to draw relief from your fund, unless disabled by +accident or violence." + +"I will submit your offer to the trade," said Jobson. He added, "Then +there, I conclude, the matter rests for the present." + +Henry interpreted this to mean that he had nothing to apprehend, unless +his proposal should be rejected. He put the L15 down on the table, +though Mr. Jobson told him that was premature, and went off as light as +a feather. Being nice and clean, and his afternoon's work spoiled, he +could not resist the temptation; he went to "Woodbine Villa." He found +Miss Carden at home, and she looked quietly pleased at his unexpected +arrival: but Jael's color came and went, and her tranquil bosom rose and +fell slowly, but grandly, for a minute, as she lowered her head over her +work. + +This was a heavenly change to Henry Little. Away from the deafening +workshop, and the mean jealousies and brutality of his inferiors, who +despised him, to the presence of a beautiful and refined girl, who was +his superior, yet did not despise him. From sin to purity, from din to +cleanliness, from war to peace, from vilest passions to Paradise. + +Her smile had never appeared so fascinating, her manner never so polite +yet placid. How softly and comfortably she and her ample dress nestled +into the corner of the sofa and fitted it! How white her nimble hand! +how bright her delicious face! How he longed to kiss her exquisite +hand, or her little foot, or her hem, or the ground she walked on, or +something she had touched, or her eye had dwelt on. + +But he must not even think too much of such delights, lest he should +show his heart too soon. So, after a short lesson, he proposed to go +into the lumber-room and find something to work upon. "Yes, do," said +Grace. "I would go too; but no; it was my palace of delight for years, +and its treasures inexhaustible. I will not go to be robbed of one more +illusion, it is just possible I might find it really is what the profane +in this house call it--a lumber-room--and not what memory paints it, +a temple of divine curiosities." And so she sent them off, and she set +herself to feel old--"oh, so old!" + +And presently Henry came back, laden with a great wooden bust of Erin, +that had been the figure-head of a wrecked schooner; and set it down, +and told her he should carve that into a likeness of herself, and she +must do her share of the work. + +Straightway she forgot she was worn out; and clapped her hands, and her +eyes sparkled. And the floor was prepared, and Henry went to work like +one inspired, and the chips flew in every direction, and the paint was +chiseled away in no time, and the wood proved soft and kindly, and +just the color of a delicate skin, and Henry said, "The Greek Statues, +begging their pardons, have all got hair like mops; but this shall have +real hair, like your own: and the silk dress, with the gloss on; and the +lace; but the face, the expression, how can I ever--?" + +"Oh, never mind THEM," cried Grace. "Jael, this is too exciting. Please +go and tell them 'not at home' to anybody." + +Then came a pretty picture: the workman, with his superb hand, brown and +sinewy, yet elegant and shapely as a duchess's, and the fingers almost +as taper, and his black eye that glowed like a coal over the model, +which grew under his masterly strokes, now hard, now light: the +enchanting girl who sat to him, and seemed on fire with curiosity and +innocent admiration: and the simple rural beauty, that plied the needle, +and beamed mildly with demure happiness, and shot a shy glance upward +now and then. + +Yes, Love was at his old mischievous game. + +Henry now lived in secret for Grace Carden, and Jael was garnering Henry +into her devoted heart, unobserved by the object of her simple devotion. +Yet, of the three, these two, that loved with so little encouragement, +were the happiest. To them the world was Heaven this glorious afternoon. +Time, strewing roses as he went, glided so sweetly and so swiftly, +that they started with surprise when the horizontal beams glorified the +windows, and told them the brightest day of their lives was drawing to +its end. + +Ah, stay a little while longer for them, Western Sun. Stand still, +not as in the cruel days of old, to glare upon poor, beaten, wounded, +panting warriors, and rob them of their last chance, the shelter of the +night: but to prolong these holy rapturous hours of youth, and hope, and +first love in bosoms unsullied by the world--the golden hours of life, +that glow so warm, and shine so bright, and flee so soon; and return in +this world--Never more! + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +Henry Little began this bust in a fervid hour, and made great progress +the first day; but as the work grew on him, it went slower and slower; +for his ambitious love drove him to attempt beauties of execution that +were without precedent in this kind of wood-carving; and, on the other +hand, the fastidiousness of a true craftsman made him correct his +attempts again and again. As to those mechanical parts, which he +intrusted at first to his pupil, she fell so far short of his ideal even +in these, that he told her bluntly she must strike work for the present: +he could not have THIS spoiled. + +Grace thought it hard she might not be allowed to spoil her own image; +however, she submitted, and henceforth her lesson was confined to +looking on. And she did look on with interest, and, at last, with +profound admiration. Hitherto she had thought, with many other persons, +that, if a man's hand was the stronger, a woman's was the neater; but +now she saw the same hand, which had begun by hewing away the coarse +outlines of the model, bestow touches of the chisel so unerring and +effective, yet so exquisitely delicate, that she said to herself, "No +woman's hand could be so firm, yet so feather-like, as all this." + +And the result was as admirable as the process. The very texture of the +ivory forehead began to come under those master-touches, executed with +perfect and various instruments: and, for the first time perhaps in the +history of this art, a bloom, more delicate far than that of a plum, +crept over the dimpled cheek. But, indeed, when love and skill work +together, expect a masterpiece. + +Henry worked on it four afternoons, the happiest he had ever known. +There was the natural pleasure of creating, and the distinct glory and +delight of reproducing features so beloved; and to these joys were +added the pleasure of larger conversation. The model gave Grace +many opportunities of making remarks, or asking questions, and Henry +contrived to say so many things in answer to one. Sculptor and sitter +made acquaintance with each other's minds over the growing bust. + +And then the young ladies and gentlemen dropped in, and gazed, and said +such wonderfully silly things, and thereby left their characters behind +them as fruitful themes for conversation. In short, topics were never +wanting now. + +As for Jael, she worked, and beamed, and pondered every word her idol +uttered, but seldom ventured to say anything, till he was gone, and then +she prattled fast enough about him. + +The work drew near completion. The hair, not in ropes, as heretofore, +but its silken threads boldly and accurately shown, yet not so as to +cord the mass, and unsatin it quite. The silk dress; the lace collar; +the blooming cheek, with its every dimple and incident; all these were +completed, and one eyebrow, a masterpiece in itself. This carved +eyebrow was a revelation, and made everybody who saw it wonder at the +conventional substitutes they had hitherto put up with in statuary of +all sorts, when the eyebrow itself was so beautiful, and might it seems +have been imitated, instead of libeled, all these centuries. + +But beautiful works, and pleasant habits, seem particularly liable to +interruption. Just when the one eyebrow was finished, and when Jael +Dence had come to look on Saturday and Monday as the only real days in +the week, and when even Grace Carden was brighter on those days, and +gliding into a gentle complacent custom, suddenly a Saturday came and +went, but Little did not appear. + +Jaet was restless. + +Grace was disappointed, but contented to wait till Monday. + +Monday came and went, but no Henry Little. + +Jael began to fret and sigh; and, after two more blank weeks, she could +bear the mystery no longer. "If you please, miss," said she, "shall I go +to that place where he works?" + +"Where who works?" inquired Grace, rather disingenuously. + +"Why, the dark young man, miss," said Jael, blushing deeply. + +Grace reflected and curiosity struggled with discretion; but discretion +got the better, being aided by self-respect. "No, Jael," said she; "he +is charming, when he is here; but, when he gets away, he is not always +so civil as he might be. I had to go twice after him. I shall not go nor +send a third time. It really is too bad of him." + +"Dear heart," pleaded Jael, "mayhap he is not well." + +"Then he ought to write and say so. No, no; he is a radical, and full +of conceit; and he has done this one eyebrow, and then gone off laughing +and saying, 'Now, let us see if the gentry can do the other amongst +them.' If he doesn't come soon, I'll do the other eyebrow myself." + +"Mayhap he will never come again," said Jael. + +"Oh, yes, he will," said Grace, mighty cunningly; "he is as fond of +coming here as we are of having him. Not that I'm at all surprised; for +the fact is, you are very pretty, extremely pretty, abominably pretty." + +"I might pass in Cairnhope town," said Jael, modestly, "but not here. +The moon goes for naught when the sun is there. He don't come here for +me." + +This sudden elegance of language, and Jael's tone of dignified +despondency, silenced Grace, somehow, and made her thoughtful. She +avoided the subject for several days. Indeed, when Saturday came, not a +word was said about the defaulter: it was only by her sending for Jael +to sit with her, and by certain looks, and occasional restlessness, she +betrayed the slightest curiosity or expectation. + +Jael sat and sewed, and often looked quickly up at the window, as some +footstep passed, and then looked down again and sighed. + +Young Little never came. He seemed to have disappeared from both their +lives; quietly disappeared. + +Next day, Sunday, Jael came to Miss Carden, after morning church, and +said, meekly, "if you please, miss, may I go home?" + +"Oh, certainly," said Grace, a little haughtily. "What for?" + +Jael hung her head, and said she was not used to be long away. Then she +lifted her head, and her great candid eyes, and spoke more frankly. "I +feel to be drawed home. Something have been at me all the night to +that degree as I couldn't close my eyes. I could almost feel it, like a +child's hand, a pulling me East. I'm afeared father's ill, or may be +the calves are bleating for me, that is better acquaint with them than +sister Patty is. And Hillsborough air don't seem to 'gree with me now +not altogether as it did at first. If you please, miss, to let me go; +and then I'll come back when I'm better company than I be now. Oh dear! +oh dear!" + +"Why, Jael, my poor girl, what IS the matter?" + +"I don't know, miss. But I feel very unked." + +"Are you not happy with me?" + +"'Tis no fault of yourn, miss," said Jael, rustic, but womanly. + +"Then you are NOT happy here." + +No reply, but two clear eyes began to fill to the very brim. + +Grace coaxed her, and said, "Speak to me like a friend. You know, after +all, you are not my servant. I can't possibly part with you altogether; +I have got to like you so: but, of course, you shall go home for a +little while, if you wish it very, very much." + +"Indeed I do, miss," said Jael. "Please forgive me, but my heart feels +like lead in my bosom." And, with these words, the big tears ran over, +and chased one another down her cheeks. + +Then Grace, who was very kind-hearted, begged her, in a very tearful +voice, not to cry: she should go home for a week, a fortnight, a month +even. "There, there, you shall go to-morrow, poor thing." + + +Now it is a curious fact, and looks like animal magnetism or something, +but the farm-house, to which Jael had felt so mysteriously drawn all +night, contained, at that moment, besides its usual inmates, one Henry +Little: and how he came there is an important part of this tale, which I +must deal with at once. + + +While Henry was still visiting Woodbine Villa, as related above, events +of a very different character from those soft scenes were taking place +at the works. His liberal offer to the Edge-Tool Forgers had been made +about a week, when, coming back one day from dinner to his forge, he +found the smoky wall written upon with chalk, in large letters, neatly +executed:-- + + +"Why overlook the handlers? + +"MARY." + + +He was not alarmed this time, but vexed. He went and complained to +Bayne; and that worthy came directly and contemplated the writing, in +silence, for about a minute. Then he gave a weary sigh, and said, with +doleful resignation, "Take the chalk, and write. There it is." + +Henry took the chalk, and prepared to write Bayne's mind underneath +Mary's. Bayne dictated: + + +"I have offered the Handlers the same as the Forgers." + + +"But that is not true," objected Henry, turning round, with the chalk in +his hand. + +"It will be true, in half an hour. We are going to Parkin, the Handlers' +Secretary." + +"What, another L15! This is an infernal swindle." + +"What isn't?" said Bayne, cynically. + +Henry then wrote as desired; and they went together to Mr. Parkin. + +Mr. Parkin was not at home. But they hunted him from pillar to post, +and caught him, at last, in the bar-parlor of "The Packsaddle." He knew +Bayne well, and received him kindly, and, on his asking for a private +interview, gave a wink to two persons who were with him: they got up +directly, and went out. + +"What, is there any thing amiss between you and the trade?" inquired Mr. +Parkin, with an air of friendly interest. + +Bayne smiled, not graciously, but sourly. "Come, come, sir, that is a +farce you and I have worn out this ten years. This is the London workman +himself, come to excuse himself to Mary and Co., for not applying to +them before: and the long and the short is, he offers the Handlers the +same as he has the Smiths, fifteen down, and to pay his natty money, but +draw no scale, unless disabled. What d'y say? Yes, or no?" + +"I'll lay Mr. Little's proposal before the committee." + +"Thank you, sir," said Little. "And, meantime, I suppose I may feel safe +against violence, from the members of your union?" + +"Violence!" said Mr. Parkin, turning his eye inward, as if he was +interrogating the centuries. Then to Mr. Bayne, "Pray, sir, do you +remember any deed of darkness that our Union has ever committed, since +we have been together; and that is twelve years?" + +"WELL, Mr. Parkin," said Bayne, "if you mean deeds of blood, and deeds +of gunpowder, et cetera--why, no, not one: and it is greatly to your +honor. But, mind you, if a master wants his tanks tapped and his +hardening-liquor run into the shore or his bellows to be ripped, his +axle-nuts to vanish, his wheel-bands to go and hide in a drain or a +church belfry, and his scythe-blades to dive into a wheel-dam, he has +only to be wrong with your Union, and he'll be accommodated as above. I +speak from experience." + +"Oh, rattening!" said Mr Parkin. "That's is a mighty small matter." + +"It is small to you, that are not in the oven, where the bread is baked, +or cooled, or burnt. But whatever parts the grindstones from the power, +and the bellows from the air, and the air from the fire, makes a hole +in the master's business to-day, and a hole in the workman's pocket +that day six months. So, for heaven's sake, let us be right with you. +Little's is the most friendly and liberal offer that any workman ever +made to any Union. Do, pray, close with it, and let us be at peace; +sweet--balmy--peace." + +Parkin declared he shared that desire: but was not the committee. Then, +to Henry: "I shall put your case as favorably as my conscience will let +me. Meantime, of course, the matter rests as it is." + +They then parted; and Henry, as he returned home, thanked Bayne +heartily. He said this second L15 had been a bitter pill at first; but +now he was glad he had offered it. "I would not leave Hillsborough for +fifteen hundred pounds." + +Two days after this promising interview with Mr. Parkin, Henry received +a note, the envelope of which showed him it came from Mr. Jobson. He +opened it eagerly, and with a good hope that its object was to tell him +he was now a member of the Edge-Tool Forgers' Union. + +The letter, however, ran thus: + + +"DEAR SIR,--I hear, with considerable surprise, that you continue to +forge blades and make handles for Mr. Cheetham. On receipt of this +information I went immediately to Mr. Parkin, and he assured me that he +came to the same terms with you as I did. He says he intimated politely, +but plainly, that he should expect you not to make any more carving-tool +handles for Mr. Cheetham, till his committee had received your proposal. +He now joins me in advising you to strike work for the present. +Hillsborough is surrounded by beautiful scenes, which it might gratify +an educated workman to inspect, during the unavoidable delay caused by +the new and very important questions your case has raised. + +"Yours obediently, + +"SAML. JOBSON. + +"P.S.--A respectable workman was with me yesterday, and objected that +you receive from Mr. Cheetham a higher payment than the list price. Can +you furnish me with a reply to this, as it is sure to be urged at the +trade meeting." + + +When he read this, Little's blood boiled, especially at the cool advice +to lay down his livelihood, and take up scenery: and he dashed off a +letter of defiance. He showed it to Bayne, and it went into the fire +directly. "That is all right," said this worthy. "You have written +your mind, like a man. Now sit down, and give them treacle for their +honey--or you'll catch pepper." + +Henry groaned, and writhed, but obeyed. + +He had written his defiance in three minutes. It took him an hour to +produce the following: + + +"DEAR SIR,--I am sorry for the misunderstanding. I did not, for a +moment, attach that meaning to any thing that fell either from you or +Mr. Parkin. + +"I must now remind you that, were I to strike work entirely, Mr. +Cheetham could discharge me, and even punish me, for breach of contract. +All I can do is to work fewer hours than I have done: and I am sure +you will be satisfied with that, if you consider that the delay in the +settlement of this matter rests with you, and not with me, + +"I am yours respectfully, HENRY LITTLE. + +"I furnish you, as requested, with two replies to the objection of a +respectable workman that I am paid above the list price. + +"1.--To sell skilled labor below the statement price is a just offense, +and injury to trade. But to obtain above the statement price is to +benefit trade. The high price, that stands alone to-day, will not stand +alone forever. It gets quoted in bargains, and draws prices up to it. +That has been proved a thousand times. + +"2.--It is not under any master's skin to pay a man more than he is +worth. It I get a high price, it is because I make a first-rate article. +If a man has got superior knowledge, he is not going to give it away to +gratify envious ignorance." + + +To this, in due course, he received from Jobson the following: + + +"DEAR SIR,--I advised you according to my judgment and experience: but, +doubtless, you are the best judge of your own affairs." + + +And that closed the correspondence with the Secretaries. + + +The gentle Jobson and the polite Parkin had retired from the +correspondence with their air of mild regret and placid resignation +just three days, when young Little found a dirty crumpled letter on his +anvil, written in pencil. It ran thus: + + +"Turn up or youl wish you had droped it. Youl be made so as youl never +do hands turn agin, an never know what hurt you. + +"MOONRAKER." (Signed) + + +Henry swore. + +When he had sworn (and, as a Briton, I think he had denied himself +that satisfaction long enough), he caught up a strip of steel with his +pincers, shoved it into the coals, heated it, and, in half a minute, +forged two long steel nails. He then nailed this letter to his wall, and +wrote under it in chalk, "I offer L10 reward to any one who will show +me the coward who wrote this, but was afraid to sign it. The writing is +peculiar, and can easily be identified." + +He also took the knife that had been so ostentatiously fixed in his +door, and carried it about him night and day, with a firm resolve to use +it in self-defense, if necessary. + +And now the plot thickened: the decent workmen in Cheetham's works were +passive; they said nothing offensive, but had no longer the inclination, +even if they had the power, to interfere and restrain the lower workmen +from venting their envy and malice. Scarcely a day passed without growls +and scowls. But Little went his way haughtily, and affected not to see, +nor hear them. + +However, one day, at dinner-time, he happened, unluckily, to be detained +by Bayne in the yard, when the men came out: and two or three of the +roughs took this opportunity and began on him at once, in the Dash +Dialect, of course; they knew no other. + +A great burly forger, whose red matted hair was powdered with coal-dust, +and his face bloated with habitual intemperance, planted himself +insolently before Henry, and said, in a very loud voice, "How many more +trade meetings are we to have for one ---- knobstick?" + +Henry replied, in a moment, "Is it my fault if your shilly-shallying +committees can't say yes or no to L15? You'd say yes to it, wouldn't +you, sooner than go to bed sober?" + +This sally raised a loud laugh at the notorious drunkard's expense, and +checked the storm, as a laugh generally does. + +But men were gathering round, and a workman who had heard the raised +voices, and divined the row, ran out of the works, with his apron full +of blades, and his heart full of mischief. It was a grinder of a certain +low type, peculiar to Hillsborough, but quite common there, where +grinders are often the grandchildren of grinders. This degenerate +face was more canine than human; sharp as a hatchet, and with forehead +villainously low; hardly any chin; and--most characteristic trait of +all--the eyes, pale in color, and tiny in size, appeared to have come +close together, to consult, and then to have run back into the very +skull, to get away from the sparks, which their owner, and his sire, and +his grandsire, had been eternally creating. + +This greyhound of a grinder flung down a lot of dull bluish blades, warm +from the forge, upon a condemned grindstone that was lying in the yard; +and they tinkled. + +"---- me, if I grind cockney blades!" said he. + +This challenge fired a sympathetic handle-maker. "Grinders are right," +said he. "We must be a ---- mean lot and all, to handle his ---- work." + +"He has been warned enough; but he heeds noane." + +"Hustle him out o' works." + +"Nay, hit him o'er th' head and fling him into shore." + +With these menacing words, three or four roughs advanced on him, with +wicked eyes; and the respectable workmen stood, like stone statues, +in cold and terrible neutrality; and Henry, looking round, in great +anxiety, found that Bayne had withdrawn. + +He ground his teeth, and stepped back to the wall, to have all the +assailants in the front. He was sternly resolute, though very pale, and, +by a natural impulse, put his hand into his side-pocket, to feel if +he had a weapon. The knife was there, the deadly blade with which his +enemies themselves had armed him; and, to those who could read faces, +there was death in the pale cheek and gleaming eye of this young man, so +sorely tried. + +At this moment, a burly gentleman walked into the midst of them, as +smartly as Van Amburgh amongst his tigers, and said steadily, "What +is to do now, lads?" It was Cheetham himself, Bayne knew he was in the +office, and had run for him in mortal terror, and sent him to keep the +peace. "They insult me, sir," said Henry; "though I am always civil to +them; and that grinder refuses to grind my blades, there." + +"Is that so? Step out, my lad. Did you refuse to grind those blades?" + +"Ay," said the greyhound-man sullenly. + +"Then put on your coat, and leave my premises this minute." + +"He is entitled to a week's warning, Mr. Cheetham," said one of the +decent workmen, respectfully, but resolutely; speaking now for the first +time. + +"You are mistaken, sir," replied Mr. Cheetham, in exactly the same tone. +(No stranger could have divined the speakers were master and man.) "He +has vitiated his contract by publicly refusing to do his work. He'll get +nothing from me but his wages up to noon this day. But YOU can have a +week's warning, if you want it." + +"Nay, sir. I've naught against you, for my part. But they say it will +come to that, if you don't turn Little up." + +"Why, what's his fault? Come now; you are a man. Speak up." + +"Nay, I've no quarrel with the man. But he isn't straight with the +trade." + +"That is the secretaries' fault, not mine," said Henry. "They can't see +I've brought a new trade in, that hurts no old trade, and will spread, +and bring money into the town." + +"We are not so ---- soft as swallow that," said the bloated smith. +"Thou's just come t' Hillsborough to learn forging, and when thou'st +mastered that, off to London, and take thy ---- trade with thee." + +Henry colored to the brow at the inferior workman's vanity and its +concomitant, detraction. But he governed himself, by a mighty effort, +and said, "Oh, that's your grievance now, is it? Mr. Cheetham--sir--will +you ask some respectable grinder to examine these blades of mine?" + +"Certainly. You are right, Little. The man to judge a forger's work is +a grinder, and not another forger. Reynolds, just take a look at them, +will ye?" + +A wet grinder of a thoroughly different type and race from the +greyhound, stepped forward. He was thick-set in body, fresh-colored, +and of a square manly countenance. He examined the blades carefully, and +with great interest. + +"Well," said Henry, "were they forged by a smith, or a novice that is +come here to learn anvil work?" + +Reynolds did not reply to him, nor to Mr. Cheetham: he turned to the +men. "Mates, I'm noane good at lying. Hand that forged these has naught +to learn in Hillsbro', nor any other shop." + +"Thank you, Mr. Reynolds," said Henry, in a choking voice. "That is the +first gleam of justice that I--" He could say no more. + +"Come, don't you turn soft for a word or two," said Cheetham. "You'll +wear all this out in time. Go to the office. I have something to say to +you." + +The something was said. It amounted to this--"Stand by me and I'll stand +by you." + +"Well, sir," said Henry, "I think I must leave you if the committees +refuse my offer. It is hard for one man to fight a couple of trades in +such a place as this. But I'm firm in one thing: until those that govern +the unions say 'no' to my offer, I shall go on working, and the scum of +the trades sha'n't frighten me away from my forge." + +"That's right; let the blackguards bluster. Bayne tells me you have had +another anonymous." + +"Yes, sir." + +"Well, look here: you must take care of yourself, outside the works; +but, I'll take care of you inside. Here, Bayne, write a notice that, if +any man molests, intimidates, or affronts Mr. Little, in my works, I'll +take him myself to the town-hall, and get him two months directly. Have +somebody at the gate to put a printed copy of that into every man's hand +as he leaves." + +"Thank you, sir!" said Henry, warmly. "But ought not the police to +afford me protection, outside?" + +"The police! You might as well go to the beadle. No; change your +lodging, if you think they know it. Don't let them track you home. Buy a +brace of pistols, and, if they catch you in a dark place, and try to do +you, give them a barrel or two before they can strike a blow. No one of +THEM will ever tell the police, not if you shot his own brother dead at +that game. The law is a dead letter here, sir. You've nothing to expect +from it, and nothing to fear." + +"Good heavens! Am I in England?" + +"In England? No. You are in Hillsborough." + +This epigram put Cheetham in good humor with himself, and, when Henry +told him he did not feel quite safe, even in his own forge, nor in his +handling-room, and gave his reasons, "Oh," said cheerful Cheetham, "that +is nothing. Yours is a box-lock; the blackguard will have hid in the +works at night, and taken the lock off, left his writing, and then +screwed the lock on again: that is nothing to any Hillsborough hand. +But I'll soon stop that game. Go you to Chestnut Street, and get two +first-class Bramah locks. There's a pocket knife forge upstairs, close +to your handling-room. I'll send the pocket-knife hand down-stairs, and +you fasten the Bramah locks on both doors, and keep the keys yourself. +See to that now at once: then your mind will be easy. And I shall be in +the works all day now, and every day: come to me directly, if there is +any thing fresh." + +Henry's forge was cold, by this time; so he struck work, and spent the +afternoon in securing his two rooms with the Bramah locks. He also took +Cheetham's advice in another particular. Instead of walking home, he +took a cab, and got the man to drive rapidly to a certain alley. There +he left the cab, ran down the alley, and turned a corner, and went home +round about. He doubled like a hare, and dodged like a criminal evading +justice. + +But the next morning he felt a pleasing sense of security when he opened +his forge-room with the Bramah key, and found no letters nor threats of +any kind had been able to penetrate. + +Moreover, all this time you will understand he was visiting "Woodbine +Cottage" twice a week, and carving Grace Carden's bust. + +Those delightful hours did much to compensate him for his troubles in +the town, and were even of some service to him in training him to fence +with the trades of Hillsborough: for at "Woodbine Villa" he had to keep +an ardent passion within the strict bounds of reverence, and in the town +he had constantly to curb another passion, wrath, and keep it within the +bounds of prudence. These were kindred exercises of self-restraint, and +taught him self-government beyond his years. But what he benefited +most by, after all, was the direct and calming effect upon his agitated +heart, and irritated nerves, that preceded, and accompanied, and +followed these sweet, tranquilizing visits. They were soft, solacing, +and soothing; they were periodical and certain, he could count on +leaving his cares and worries, twice every week, at the door of that +dear villa; and, when he took them up again, they were no longer the +same; heavenly balm had been shed over them, and over his boiling blood. + +One Saturday he heard, by a side-wind, that the Unions at a general +meeting had debated his case, and there had been some violent speeches, +and no decision come to; but the majority adverse to him. This +discouraged him sadly, and his yearning heart turned all the more toward +his haven of rest, and the hours, few but blissful, that awaited him. + +About 11 o'clock, that same day, the postman brought him a letter, so +vilely addressed, that it had been taken to two or three places, on +speculation, before it reached its destination. + +Little saw at once it was another anonymous communication. But he was +getting callous to these missives, and he even took it with a certain +degree of satisfaction. "Well done, Bramah! Obliged to send their venom +by post now." This was the feeling uppermost in his mind. In short, he +opened the letter with as much contempt as anger. + +But he had no sooner read the foul scrawl, than his heart died within +him. + + +"Thou's sharp but not sharp enow. We know where thou goes courting up +hill. Window is all glass and ripe for a Peter shall blow the house +tatums. There's the stuff in Hillsbro and the men that have done others +so, and will do her job as wells thine. Powders a good servant but a bad +master. + +"ONE WHO MEANS DOING WHAT HE SAYS." + + +At this diabolical threat, young Little leaned sick and broken over the +handle of his bellows. + +Then he got up, and went to Mr. Cheetham, and said, patiently, "Sir, I +am sorry to say I must leave you this very day." + +"Don't say that, Little, don't say that." + +"Oh it is with a heavy heart, sir; and I shall always remember your +kindness. But a man knows when he is beat. And I'm beat now." He hung +his head in silence awhile. Then he said, in a faint voice, "This is +what has done it, sir," and handed him the letter. + +Mr. Cheetham examined it, and said, "I am not surprised at your being +taken aback by this. But it's nothing new to us; we have all been +threatened in this form. Why, the very last time I fought the trades, +my wife was threatened I should be brought home on a shutter, with my +intestines sweeping the ground. That was the purport, only it was put +vernacular and stronger. And they reminded me that the old gal's clothes +(that is Mrs. Cheetham: she is only twenty-six, and the prettiest lass +in Coventry, and has a row of ivories that would do your heart good: +now these Hillsborough hags haven't got a set of front teeth among 'em, +young or old). Well, they told me the old gal's clothes could easily be +spoiled, and her doll's face and all, with a penn'orth of vitriol." + +"The monsters!" + +"But it was all brag. These things are threatened fifty times, for once +they are done." + +"I shall not risk it. My own skin, if you like. But not hers: never, Mr. +Cheetham: oh, never; never!" + +"Well, but," said Mr. Cheetham, "she is in no danger so long as you keep +away from her. They might fling one of their petards in at the window, +if you were there; but otherwise, never, in this world. No, no, Little, +they are not so bad as that. They have blown up a whole household, +to get at the obnoxious party; but they always make sure he is there +first." + +Bayne was appealed to, and confirmed this; and, with great difficulty, +they prevailed on Little to remain with them, until the Unions should +decide; and to discontinue his visits to the house on the hill in the +meantime. I need hardly say they had no idea the house on the hill was +"Woodbine Villa." + +He left them, and, sick at heart, turned away from Heath Hill, and +strolled out of the lower part of the town, and wandered almost at +random, and sad as death. + +He soon left the main road, and crossed a stile; it took him by the side +of a babbling brook, and at the edge of a picturesque wood. Ever and +anon he came to a water-wheel, and above the water-wheel a dam made +originally by art, but now looking like a sweet little lake. They were +beautiful places; the wheels and their attendant works were old and +rugged, but picturesque and countrified; and the little lakes behind, +fringed by the master-grinder's garden, were strangely peaceful and +pretty. Here the vulgar labor of the grindstone was made beautiful and +incredibly poetic. + +"Ah!" thought poor Little, "how happy a workman must be that plies his +trade here in the fresh air. And how unfortunate I am to be tied to a +power-wheel, in that filthy town, instead of being here, where Nature +turns the wheel, and the birds chirp at hand, and the scene and the air +are all purity and peace." + +One place of the kind was particularly charming. The dam was larger +than most, and sloping grass on one side, cropped short by the grinder's +sheep: on the other his strip of garden: and bushes and flowers hung +over the edge and glassed themselves in the clear water. Below the +wheel, and at one side, was the master-grinder's cottage, covered with +creepers. + +But Henry's mind was in no state to enjoy these beauties. He envied +them; and, at last, they oppressed him, and he turned his back on them, +and wandered, disconsolate, home. + +He sat down on a stool by his mother, and laid his beating temples on +her knees. + +"What is it, my darling?" said she softly. + +"Well, mother, for one thing, the Unions are against me, and I see I +shall have to leave Hillsborough, soon or late." + +"Never mind, dear; happiness does not depend upon the place we live +in; and oh, Henry, whatever you do, never quarrel with those terrible +grinders and people. The world is wide. Let us go back to London; the +sooner the better. I have long seen there was something worrying you. +But Saturday and Monday--they used to be your bright days." + +"It will come to that, I suppose," said Henry, evading her last +observation. "Yes," said he, wearily, "it will come to that." And he +sighed so piteously that she forbore to press him. She had not the heart +to cross-examine her suffering child. + +That evening, mother and son sat silent by the fire: Henry had his own +sad and bitter thoughts; and Mrs. Little was now brooding over the words +Henry had spoken in the afternoon; and presently her maternal anxieties +found a copious vent. She related to him, one after another, all the +outrages that had been perpetrated in Hillsborough, while he was a +child, and had been, each in its turn, the town talk. + +It was a subject on which, if her son had been older, and more +experienced in her sex, he would have closed her mouth promptly, she +being a woman whose own nerves had received so frightful a shock by the +manner of her husband's death. But, inadvertently, he let her run on, +till she told him how a poor grinder had been carried home to his wife, +blinded and scorched with gunpowder, and another had been taken home, +all bleeding, to his mother, so beaten and bruised with life-preservers, +that he had laid between life and death for nine days, and never uttered +one word all that time, in reply to all her prayers and tears. + +Now Mrs. Little began these horrible narratives with a forced and +unnatural calmness; but, by the time she got to the last; she had +worked herself up to a paroxysm of sympathy with other wretched women in +Hillsborough, and trembled all over, like one in an ague, for herself: +and at last stretched out her shaking hands, and screamed to him, "Oh, +Harry, Harry, have pity on your miserable mother! Think what these +eyes of mine have seen--bleeding at my feet--there--there--I see it +now"--(her eyes dilated terribly at the word)--"oh, promise me, for +pity's sake, that these--same--eyes--shall never see YOU brought and +laid down bleeding like HIM!" With this she went into violent hysterics, +and frightened her son more than all the ruffians in the town had ever +frightened him. + +She was a long time in this pitiable condition, and he nursed her: but +at last her convulsion ceased, and her head rested on her son's shoulder +in a pitiable languor. + +Henry was always a good son: but he never loved his mother so tenderly +as he did this night. His heart yearned over this poor panting soul, so +stately in form, yet so weak, so womanly, and lovable; his playmate +in childhood; his sweet preceptor in boyhood; the best friend and most +unselfish lover he had, or could ever hope to have, on earth; dear to +him by her long life of loving sacrifice, and sacred by that their great +calamity, which had fallen so much heavier on her than on him. + +He soothed her, he fondled her, he kneeled at her feet, and promised +her most faithfully he would never be brought home to her bruised or +bleeding. No; if the Unions rejected his offer he would go back to +London with her at once. + +And so, thrust from Hillsborough by the trades, and by his fears for +Miss Carden, and also drawn from it by his mother's terrors, he felt +himself a feather on the stream of Destiny; and left off struggling: +beaten, heart-sick, and benumbed, he let the current carry him like any +other dead thing that drifts. + +He still plied the hammer, but in a dead-alive way. + +He wrote a few cold lines to Mr. Jobson, to say that he thought it was +time for a plain answer to be given to a business proposal. But, as he +had no great hope the reply would be favorable, he awaited it in a state +bordering on apathy. And so passed a miserable week. + +And all this time she, for whose sake he denied himself the joy and +consolation of her company, though his heart ached and pined for it, had +hard thoughts of him, and vented them too to Jael Dence. + +The young are so hasty in all their judgments. + +While matters were in this condition, Henry found, one morning, two +fresh panes of glass broken in his window. + +In these hardware works the windows seldom or never open: air is +procured in all the rooms by the primitive method of breaking a pane +here and a pane there; and the general effect is as unsightly as a +human mouth where teeth and holes alternate. The incident therefore was +nothing, if it had occurred in any other room; but it was not a thing to +pass over in this room, secured by a Bramah lock, the key of which was +in Henry's pocket: the panes must have been broken from the outside. It +occurred to him directly that a stone had been thrown in with another +threatening scrawl. + +But, casting his eye all round, he saw nothing of the kind about. + +Then, for a moment, a graver suspicion crossed his mind: might not some +detonating substance of a nature to explode when trodden upon, have been +flung in? Hillsborough excelled in deviltries of this kind. + +Henry thought of his mother, and would not treat the matter lightly or +unsuspiciously. He stood still till he had lighted a lucifer match, and +examined the floor of his room. Nothing. + +He lighted a candle, and examined all the premises. Nothing. + +But, when he brought his candle to the window, he made a discovery: the +window had two vertical iron uprights, about three-quarters of an inch +in circumference: and one of these revealed to his quick eye a bright +horizontal line. It had been sawed with a fine saw. + +Apparently an attempt had been made to enter his room from outside. + +The next question was, had that attempt succeeded. + +He tried the bar; it was not quite cut through. + +He locked the forge up directly, and went to his handling room. There he +remained till Mr. Cheetham entered the works; then he went to him, and +begged him to visit his forge. + +Mr. Cheetham came directly, and examined the place carefully. + +He negatived, at once, the notion that any Hillsborough hand had been +unable to saw through a bar of that moderate thickness. "No," said +he, "they were disturbed, or else some other idea struck them all of a +sudden; or else they hadn't given themselves time, and are coming again +to-morrow. I hope they are. By six o'clock to-night, I'll have a common +wooden shutter hung with six good hinges on each side, easy to open +at the center; only, across the center, I'll fix a Waterloo cracker +inside." + +"A Waterloo cracker!" + +"Ay, but such a one as you never saw. I shall make it myself. It shall +be only four inches long, but as broad as my hand, and enough detonating +powder in it to blow the shutter fifty feet into the air: and if there +should be one of Jobson's lads behind the shutter at the time, why he'll +learn flying, and naught to pay for wings." + +"Why, sir, you are planning the man's death!" + +"And what is HE planning? Light your forge, and leave the job to me. I'm +Hillsborough too, and they've put my blood up at last." + +While Henry lighted his forge, Mr. Cheetham whipped out a rule, and +measured the window exactly. This done, he went down the stairs, and +crossed the yard to go to his office. + +But, before he could enter it, a horrible thing occurred in the room +he had just left; so horrible, it made him, brave as he was, turn and +scream like a woman. + +Some miscreant, by a simple but ingenious means, which afterward +transpired, had mixed a quantity of gunpowder with the smithy-slack or +fine cinders of Henry's forge. The moment the forge was hot, the powder +ignited with a tremendous thud, a huge mass of flame rushed out, driving +the coals with it, like shot from a gun; Henry, scorched, blackened, +and blinded, was swept, as by a flaming wind, against the opposite wall; +then, yelling, and stark mad with fright (for nothing drives men out +of their wits like an explosion in a narrow space), he sprang at the +window, head foremost, and with such velocity that the sawed iron +snapped like a stick of barley-sugar, and out he went head foremost; +and this it was made Cheetham scream, to see him head downward, and the +paving-stones below. + +But the aperture was narrow: his body flew through, but his tight arm +went round the unbroken upright, and caught it in the bend of the elbow. + +Then Cheetham roared, "Hold on, Little! Hold on, I tell you!" + +The scared brain of a man accustomed to obey received the command almost +without the mind; and the grinders and forgers, running wildly into the +yard, saw the obnoxious workman, black as a cinder from head to foot, +bleeding at the face from broken glass, hanging up there by one hand, +moaning with terror, and looking down with dilating eye, while thick +white smoke rushed curling out, as if his body was burning. Death by +suffocation was at his back, and broken bones awaited him below. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +At sight of this human cinder, hanging by one hand between two deaths, +every sentiment but humanity vanished from the ruggedest bosom, and +the skilled workmen set themselves to save their unpopular comrade with +admirable quickness and judgment: two new wheel-bands, that had just +come into the works, were caught up in a moment, and four workmen ran +with them and got below the suspended figure: they then turned back to +back, and, getting the bands over their shoulders, pulled hard against +each other. This was necessary to straighten the bands: they weighed +half a hundred weight each. Others stood at the center of the bands, and +directed Little where to drop, and stood ready to catch him should he +bound off them. + +But now matters took an unexpected turn. Little, to all appearance, was +blind and deaf. He hung there, moaning, and glaring, and his one sinewy +arm supported his muscular but light frame almost incredibly. He was out +of his senses, or nearly. + +"Let thyself come, lad," cried a workman, "we are all right to catch +thee." + +He made no answer, but hung there glaring and moaning. + +"The man will drop noane, till he swouns," said another, watching him +keenly. + +"Then get you closer to the wall, men," cried Cheetham, in great +anxiety. "He'll come like a stone, when he does come." This injunction +was given none too soon; the men had hardly shifted their positions, +when Little's hand opened, and he came down like lead, with his hands +all abroad, and his body straight; but his knees were slightly bent, and +he caught the bands just below the knee, and bounded off them into the +air, like a cricket-ball. But many hands grabbed at him, and the grinder +Reynolds caught him by the shoulder, and they rolled on the ground +together, very little the worse for that tumble. "Well done! well done!" +cried Cheetham. "Let him lie, lads, he is best there for a while; and +run for a doctor, one of you." + +"Ay, run for Jack Doubleface," cried several voices at once. + +"Now, make a circle, and give him air, men." Then they all stood in +a circle, and eyed the blackened and quivering figure with pity and +sympathy, while the canopy of white smoke bellied overhead. Nor were +those humane sentiments silent; and the rough seemed to be even more +overcome than the others: no brains were required to pity this poor +fellow now; and so strong an appeal to their hearts, through their +senses, roused their good impulses and rare sensibilities. Oh, it was +strange to hear good and kindly sentiments come out in the Dash dialect. + +"It's a ---- shame!" + +"There lies a good workman done for by some ---- thief, that wasn't fit +to blow his bellows, ---- him!" + +"Say he WAS a cockney, he was always ---- civil." + +"And life's as sweet to him as to any man in Hillsborough." + +"Hold your ---- tongue, he's coming to." + +Henry did recover his wits enough to speak; and what do you think was +his first word? + +He clasped his hands together, and said,--"MY MOTHER! OH, DON'T LET HER +KNOW!" + +This simple cry went through many a rough heart; a loud gulp or two were +heard soon after, and more than one hard and coaly cheek was channeled +by sudden tears. But now a burly figure came rolling in; they drew back +and silenced each other.--"The Doctor!" This was the remarkable person +they called Jack Doubleface. Nature had stuck a philosophic head, with +finely-cut features, and a mouth brimful of finesse, on to a corpulent +and ungraceful body, that yawed from side to side as he walked. + +The man of art opened with two words. He looked up at the white cloud, +which was now floating away; sniffed the air, and said, "Gunpowder!" +Then he looked down at Little, and said, "Ah!" half dryly, half sadly. +Indeed several sentences of meaning condensed themselves into that +simple interjection. At this moment, some men, whom curiosity had drawn +to Henry's forge, came back to say the forge had been blown up, and "the +bellows torn limb from jacket, and the room strewed with ashes." + +The doctor laid a podgy hand on the prisoner's wrist: the touch was +light, though the fingers were thick and heavy. The pulse, which had +been very low, was now galloping and bounding frightfully. "Fetch him a +glass of brandy-and-water," said Dr. Amboyne. (There were still doctors +in Hillsborough, though not in London, who would have had him bled on +the spot.) + +"Now, then, a surgeon! Which of you lads operates on the eye, in these +works?" + +A lanky file-cutter took a step forward. "I am the one that takes the +motes out of their eyes." + +"Then be good enough to show me his eye." + +The file-cutter put out a hand with fingers prodigiously long and thin, +and deftly parted both Little's eyelids with his finger and thumb, so as +to show the whole eye. + +"Hum!" said the doctor, and shook his head. + +He then patted the sufferer all over, and the result of that examination +was satisfactory. Then came the brandy-and-water; and while Henry's +teeth were clattering at the glass and he was trying to sip the liquid, +Dr. Amboyne suddenly lifted his head, and took a keen survey of the +countenances round him. He saw the general expression of pity on the +rugged faces. He also observed one rough fellow who wore a strange wild +look: the man seemed puzzled, scared, confused like one half awakened +from some hideous dream. This was the grinder who had come into the +works in place of the hand Cheetham had discharged for refusing to grind +cockney blades. + +"Hum!" said Dr. Amboyne, and appeared to be going into a brown study. + +But he shook that off, and said briskly, "Now, then, what was his crime? +Did he owe some mutual aid society six-and-four-pence?" + +"That's right," said Reynolds, sullenly, "throw every thing on the +Union. If we knew who it was, he'd lie by the side of this one in less +than a minute, and, happen, not get up again so soon." A growl of assent +confirmed the speaker's words. Cheetham interposed and drew Amboyne +aside, and began to tell him who the man was and what the dispute; but +Amboyne cut the latter explanation short. "What," said he, "is this the +carver whose work I saw up at Mr. Carden's?" + +"This is the very man, no doubt." + +"Why, he's a sculptor: Praxiteles in wood. A fine choice they have made +for their gunpowder, a workman that did honor to the town." + +A faint flush of gratified pride colored the ghastly cheek a moment. + +"Doctor, shall I live to finish the bust?" said Henry, piteously. + +"That and hundreds more, if you obey me. The fact is, Mr. Cheetham, this +young man is not hurt, but his nerves have received a severe shock; and +the sooner he is out of this place the better. Ah, there is my brougham +at the gate. Come, put him into it, and I'll take him to the infirmary." + +"No," said Little, "I won't go there; my mother would hear of it." + +"Oh, then your mother is not to know?" + +"Not for all the world! She has had trouble enough. I'll just wash my +face and buy a clean shirt, and she'll never know what has happened. It +would kill her. Oh, yes, it would kill her!" + +The doctor eyed him with warm approval. "You are a fine young fellow. +I'll see you safe through this, and help you throw dust in your mother's +eyes. If you go to her with that scratched face, we are lost. Come, get +into my carriage, and home with me." + +"Mayn't I wash my face first? And look at my shirt: as black as a +cinder." + +"Wash your face, by all means: but you can button your coat over your +shirt." + +The coat was soon brought, and so was a pail of water and a piece of +yellow soap. Little dashed his head and face into the bucket, and soon +inked all the water. The explosion had filled his hair with black dust, +and grimed his face and neck like a sweep's. This ablution made him +clean, but did not bring back his ruddy color. He looked pale and +scratched. + +The men helped him officiously into the carriage, though he could have +walked very well alone. + +Henry asked leave to buy a clean shirt. The doctor said he would lend +him one at home. + +While Henry was putting it on Dr. Amboyne ordered his dog-cart instead +of his brougham, and mixed some medicines. And soon Henry found himself +seated in the dog-cart, with a warm cloak over him, and whisking over +the stones of Hillsborough. + +All this had been done so rapidly and unhesitatingly that Henry, injured +and shaken as he was, had yielded passive obedience. But now he began to +demur a little. "But where are we going, sir?" he asked. + +"To change the air and the scene. I'll be frank with you--you are man +enough to bear the truth--you have received a shock that will very +likely bring on brain-fever, unless you get some sleep tonight. But you +would not sleep in Hillsborough. You'd wake a dozen times in the night, +trembling like an aspen leaf, and fancying you were blown up again." + +"Yes, but my mother, sir! If I don't go home at seven o'clock, she'll +find me out." + +"If you went crazy wouldn't she find you out? Come, my young friend, +trust to my experience, and to the interest this attempt to murder you, +and your narrow escape, have inspired in me. When I have landed you in +the Temple of Health, and just wasted a little advice on a pig-headed +patient in the neighborhood (he is the squire of the place), I'll drive +back to Hillsborough, and tell your mother some story or other: you and +I will concoct that together as we go." + +At this Henry was all obedience, and indeed thanked him, with the tears +in his eyes, for his kindness to a poor stranger. + +Dr. Amboyne smiled. "If you were not a stranger, you would know that +saving cutlers' lives is my hobby, and one in which I am steadily +resisted and defeated, especially by the cutlers themselves: why, I look +upon you as a most considerate and obliging young man for indulging me +in this way. If you had been a Hillsborough hand, you would insist upon +a brain-fever, and a trip to the lunatic asylum, just to vex me, and +hinder me of my hobby." + +Henry stared. This was too eccentric for him to take it all in at once. +"What!" said Dr. Amboyne, observing his amazement, "Did you never hear +of Dr. Doubleface?" + +"No, sir." + +"Never hear of the corpulent lunatic, who goes about the city chanting, +like a cuckoo, 'Put yourself in his place--put yourself in her place--in +their place?' + +"No, sir, I never did." + +"Then such is fame. Well, never mind that just now; there's a time for +every thing. Please observe that ruined house: the ancient family to +whom it belongs are a remarkable example of the vicissitude of human +affairs." He then told him the curious ups and downs of that family, +which, at two distant periods, had held vast possessions in the county; +but were now represented by the shell of one manor house, and its +dovecote, the size of a modern villa. Next he showed him an obscure +battlefield, and told him that story, and who were the parties engaged; +and so on. Every mile furnished its legend, and Dr. Amboyne related them +all so graphically that the patient's mind was literally stolen away +from himself. At last, after a rapid drive of eleven miles through the +pure invigorating air, they made a sudden turn, and entered a pleasant +and singularly rural village: they drew up at a rustic farmhouse, clad +with ivy; and Dr. Amboyne said, "This is the temple: here you can sleep +as safe from gunpowder as a field-marshal born." + +The farmer's daughter came out, and beamed pleasure at sight of the +doctor: he got down, and told her the case, privately, and gave +her precise instructions. She often interrupted the narrative with +"Lawkadaisies," and other rural interjections, and simple exclamations +of pity. She promised faithful compliance with his orders. + +He then beckoned Henry in, and said, "This picture of health was a +patient of mine once, as you are now; there's encouragement for you. I +put you under her charge. Get a letter written to your mother, and I'll +come back for it in half an hour. You had a headache, and were feverish, +so you consulted a doctor. He advised immediate rest and change of air, +and he drove you at once to this village. Write you that, and leave the +rest to me. We doctors are dissembling dogs. We have still something to +learn in curing diseases; but at making light of them to the dying, and +other branches of amiable mendacity, we are masters." + +As soon as he was gone, the comely young hostess began on her patient. +"Dear heart, sir, was it really you as was blowed up with gunpowder?" + +"Indeed it was, and not many hours ago. It seems like a dream." + +"Well, now, who'd think that, to look at you? Why, you are none the +worse for, by a scratch or two, and dear heart, I've seen a young chap +bring as bad home, from courting, in these parts; and wed the lass as +marked him--within the year." + +"Oh, it is not the scratches; but feel my hand, how it trembles. And it +used to be as firm as a rock; for I never drink." + +"So it do, I declare. Why, you do tremble all over; and no wonder, poor +soul. Come you in this minut, and sit down a bit by the fire, while I go +and make the room ready for you." + +But, as soon as he was seated by the fire, the current began to flow +again. "Well, I never liked Hillsborough folk much--poor, mean-visaged +tykes they be--but now I do hate 'em. What, blow up a decent young man +like you, and a well-favored, and hair like jet, and eyes in your head +like sloes! But that's their ground of spite, I warrant me; the nasty, +ugly, dirty dogs. Well, you may just snap your fingers at 'em all now. +They don't come out so far as this; and, if they did, stouter men grows +in this village than any in Hillsborough: and I've only to hold up my +finger, for as little as I be, and they'd all be well ducked in father's +horsepond, and then flogged home again with a good cart-whip well laid +on. And, another thing, whatever we do, Squire, he will make it good in +law: he is gentle, and we are simple; but our folk and his has stood by +each other this hundred year and more. But, la, I run on so, and you was +to write a letter again the doctor came back. I'll fetch you some paper +this minut." + +She brought him writing materials, and stood by him with this apology, +"If 'twas to your sweetheart I'd be off. But 'tis to your mother." (With +a side glance), "She have been a handsome woman in her day, I'll go +bail." + +"She is as beautiful as ever in my eyes," said Henry, tenderly. "And, +oh, heaven! give me the sense to write to her without frightening her." + +"Then I won't hinder you no more with my chat," said his hostess, with +kindly good humor, and slipped away upstairs. She lighted a great wood +fire in the bedroom, and laid the bed and the blankets all round it, and +opened the window, and took the homespun linen sheets out of a press, +and made the room very tidy. Then she went down again, and the moment +Henry saw her, he said "I feel your kindness, miss, but I don't know +your name, nor where in the world I am." His hostess smiled. "That is no +secret. I'm Martha Dence--at your service: and this is Cairnhope town." + +"Cairnhope!" cried Henry, and started back, so that his wooden chair +made a loud creak upon the stones of the farmer's kitchen. + +Martha Dence stared, but said nothing; for almost at that moment the +doctor returned, all in a hurry, for the letter. + +Henry begged him to look at it, and see if it would do. + +The doctor read it. "Hum!" said he, "it is a very pretty, filial letter, +and increases my interest in you; give me your hand: there. Well, it +won't do: too shaky. If your mother once sees this, I may talk till +doomsday, she'll not believe a word. You must put off writing till +to-morrow night. Now give me her address, for I really must get home." + +"She lives on the second floor, No. 13 Chettle Street." + +"Her name?" + +"Sir, if you ask for the lady that lodges on the second floor, you will +be sure to see her." + +Dr. Amboyne looked a little surprised, and not very well pleased, at +what seemed a want of confidence. But he was a man singularly cautious +and candid in forming his judgments; so he forbore all comment, and +delivered his final instructions. "Here is a bottle containing only a +few drops of faba Ignatii in water, it is an innocent medicine, and +has sometimes a magical effect in soothing the mind and nerves. A +table-spoonful three times a day. And THIS is a sedative, which you can +take if you find yourself quite unable to sleep. But I wouldn't have +recourse to it unnecessarily; for these sedatives are uncertain in their +operation; and, when a man is turned upside down, as you have been, they +sometimes excite. Have a faint light in your bedroom. Tie a cord to the +bell-rope, and hold it in your hand all night. Fix your mind on that +cord, and keep thinking, 'This is to remind me that I am eleven +miles from Hillsborough, in a peaceful village, safe from all harm.' +To-morrow, walk up to the top of Cairnhope Peak, and inhale the glorious +breeze, and look over four counties. Write to your mother at night, and, +meantime, I'll do my best to relieve her anxiety. Good-by." + + +Memory sometimes acts like an old flint-gun: it hangs fire, yet ends +by going off. While Dr. Amboyne was driving home, the swarthy, but +handsome, features of the workman he had befriended seemed to enter his +mind more deeply than during the hurry, and he said to himself, "Jet +black hair; great black eyes; and olive skin; they are rare in these +parts; and, somehow, they remind me a little of HER." + +Then his mind went back, in a moment, over many years, to the days when +he was stalwart, but not unwieldy, and loved a dark but peerless beauty, +loved her deeply, and told his love, and was esteemed and pitied, but +another was beloved. + +And so sad, yet absorbing, was the retrospect of his love, his sorrow, +and her own unhappy lot, that it blotted out of his mind, for a time, +the very youth whose features and complexion had launched him into the +past. + +But the moment his horse's feet rang on the stones, this burly +philosopher shook off the past, and set himself to recover lost time. +He drove rapidly to several patients, and, at six o'clock, was at 13 +Chettle Street, and asked for the lady on the second floor, "Yes, +sir: she is at home," was the reply. "But I don't know; she lives very +retired. She hasn't received any visits since they came. However, they +rent the whole floor, and the sitting-room fronts you." + +Dr. Amboyne mounted the stair and knocked at the door. A soft and mellow +voice bade him enter. He went in, and a tall lady in black, with plain +linen collar and wristbands, rose to receive him. They confronted +each other. Time and trouble had left their trace, but there were the +glorious eyes, and jet black hair, and the face, worn and pensive, but +still beautiful. It was the woman he had loved, the only one. + +"Mrs. Little!" said he, in an indescribable tone. + +"Dr. Amboyne!" + +For a few moments he forgot the task he had undertaken; and could only +express his astonishment and pleasure at seeing her once more. + +Then he remembered why he was there; and the office he had undertaken so +lightly alarmed him now. + +His first instinct was to gain time. Accordingly, he began to chide her +gently for having resided in the town and concealed it from him; then, +seeing her confused and uncomfortable at that reproach, and in the mood +to be relieved by any change of topic, he glided off, with no little +address, as follows:--"Observe the consequences: here have I been most +despotically rusticating a youth who turns out to be your son." + +"My son! is there any thing the matter with my son? Oh, Dr. Amboyne!" + +"He must have been out of sorts, you know, or he would not have +consulted me," replied the doctor, affecting candor. + +"Consult! Why, what has happened? He was quite well when he left me this +morning." + +"I doubt that. He complained of headache and fever. But I soon found his +MIND was worried. A misunderstanding with the trades! I was very much +pleased with his face and manner; my carriage was at the door; his pulse +was high, but there was nothing that country air and quiet will not +restore. So I just drove him away, and landed him in a farm-house." + +Mrs. Little's brow flushed at this. She was angry. But, in a nature so +gentle as hers, anger soon gave way. She turned a glance of tearful +and eloquent reproach on Dr. Amboyne. "The first time we have ever been +separated since he was born," said she, with a sigh. + +Dr. Amboyne's preconceived plan broke down that moment. He said, +hurriedly, + +"Take my carriage, and drive to him. Better do that than torment +yourself." + +"Where is he?" asked the widow, brightening up at the proposal. + +"At Cairnhope." + +At this word, Mrs. Little's face betrayed a series of emotions: first +confusion, then astonishment, and at last a sort of superstitious alarm. +"At Cairnhope?" she faltered at last, "My son at Cairnhope?" + +"Pray do not torment yourself with fancies," said the doctor. "All this +is the merest accident--the simplest thing in the world. I cured Patty +Dence of diphtheria, when it decimated the village. She and her family +are grateful; the air of Cairnhope has a magic effect on people who live +in smoke, and Martha and Jael let me send them out an invalid now and +then to be reinvigorated. I took this young man there, not knowing who +he was. Go to him, if you like. But, frankly, as his physician, I would +rather you did not. Never do a wise thing by halves. He ought to be +entirely separated from all his cares, even from yourself (who are +doubtless one of them), for five or six days. He needs no other medicine +but that and the fine air of Cairnhope." + +"Then somebody must see him every day, and tell me. Oh! Dr. Amboyne, +this is the beginning: what will the end be? I am miserable." + +"My man shall ride there every day, and see him, and bring you back a +letter from him." + +"Your man!" said Mrs. Little, a little haughtily. + +Dr. Amboyne met her glance. "If there was any ground for alarm, should I +not go myself every day?" said he, gravely, and even tenderly. + +"Forgive me," said the widow, and gave him her hand with a sweet and +womanly gesture. + +The main difficulty was now got over; and Dr. Amboyne was careful not to +say too much, for he knew that his tongue moved among pitfalls. + +As Dr. Amboyne descended the stairs, the landlady held a door ajar, and +peeped at him, according to a custom of such delicate-minded females as +can neither restrain their curiosity nor indulge it openly. Dr. Amboyne +beckoned to her, and asked for a private interview. This was promptly +accorded. + +"Would ten guineas be of any service to you, madam?" + +"Eh, dear, that it would, sir. Why, my rent is just coming due." + +Under these circumstances, the bargain was soon struck. Not a syllable +about the explosion at Cheetham's was to reach the second floor lodger's +ears, and no Hillsborough journal was to mount the stairs until the +young man's return. If inquired for, they were to be reported all sold +out, and a London journal purchased instead. + +Having secured a keen and watchful ally in this good woman, who, to do +her justice, showed a hearty determination to earn her ten guineas, Dr. +Amboyne returned home, his own philosophic pulse beating faster than it +had done for some years. + +He had left Mrs. Little grateful, and, apparently, in good spirits; +but, ere he had been gone an hour, the bare separation from her son +overpowered her, and a host of vague misgivings tortured her, and +she slept but little that night. By noon next day she was thoroughly +miserable; but Dr. Amboyne's man rode up to the door in the afternoon +with a cheerful line from Henry. + + +"All right, dear mother. Better already. Letter by post. + +"Henry." + + +She detained the man, and made up a packet of things for Cairnhope, and +gave him five shillings to be sure and take them. + +This was followed by a correspondence, a portion of which will suffice +to eke out the narrative. + + +"DEAREST MOTHER,--I slept ill last night, and got up aching from head +to foot, as if I had been well hided. But they sent me to the top of +Cairnhope Peak, and, what with the keen air and the glorious view, I +came home and ate like a hog. That pleased Martha Dence, and she kept +putting me slices off her own plate, till I had to cry quarter. As soon +as I have addressed this letter, I'm off to bed, for it is all I can do +not to fall asleep sitting. + +"I am safe to be all right to-morrow, so pray don't fret. I am, dear +mother," etc., etc. + + +"DEAREST MOTHER,--I hope you are not fretting about me. Dr. Amboyne +promised to stop all that. But do write, and say you are not fretting +and fancying all manner of things at my cutting away so suddenly. It was +the doctor's doing. And, mother, I shall not stay long away from you, +for I slept twelve hours at a stretch last night, and now I'm another +man. But really, I think the air of that Cairnhope Peak would cure a +fellow at his last gasp. + +"Thank you for the linen, and the brushes, and things. But you are not +the sort to forget anything a fellow might want," etc. + + +"No, my darling son. Be in no hurry to leave Cairnhope. Of course, love, +I was alarmed at first; for I know doctors make the best of every thing; +and then the first parting!--that is always a sorrowful thing. But, now +you are there, I beg you will stay till you are quite recovered. Your +letters are a delight, and one I could not have, and you as well, you +know. + +"Since you are at Cairnhope--how strange that seems--pray go and see +the old church, where your forefathers are buried. There are curious +inscriptions, and some brasses nobody could decipher when I was a girl; +but perhaps you might, you are so clever. Your grandfather's monument +is in the chancel: I want you to see it. Am I getting very old, that my +heart turns back to these scenes of my youth? + +"P.S.--Who is this Martha Dence?" + + +"DEAR MOTHER,--Martha Dence is the farmer's daughter I lodge with. She +is not so pretty as her sister Jael that is with Miss Carden; but she is +a comely girl, and as good as gold, and bespoke by the butcher. And her +putting slices from her plate to mine is a village custom, I find. + +"Mother, the people here are wonderfully good and simple. First of all, +there's farmer Dence, with his high bald head, like a patriarch of old; +and he sits and beams with benevolence, but does not talk much. But he +lets me see I can stay with him six years, if I choose. Then, there's +Martha, hospitality itself, and ready to fly at my enemies like a +mastiff. She is a little hot in the temper, feathers up in a moment; +but, at a soft word, they go down again as quick. Then, there's the +village blacksmith. I call him 'The gentle giant.' He is a tremendous +fellow in height, and size, and sinew; but such a kind, sweet-tempered +chap. He could knock down an ox, yet he wouldn't harm a fly. I am his +idol: I sauntered in to his smithy, and forged him one or two knives; +and of course he had never seen the hammer used with that nicety; +but instead of hating me, as the bad forgers in Hillsborough do, he +regularly worships me, and comes blushing up to the farm-house after +hours, to ask after me and get a word with me. He is the best whistler +in the parish, and sometimes we march down the village at night, +arm-in-arm, whistling a duet. This charms the natives so that we could +take the whole village out at our heels, and put them down in another +parish. But the droll thing is, they will not take me for what I am. My +gentle giant would say 'Sir' till I pretended to be affronted; the women +and girls will bob me courtesies, and the men and white headed boys +will take off their hats and pull their front hair to me. If a skilled +workman wants to burst with vanity, let him settle in Cairnhope." + +[EXTRACT] + +"Martha Dence and I have had words, and what do you think it was about? +I happened to let out my opinion of Mr. Raby. Mother, it was like +setting a match to a barrel of gunpowder. She turned as red as fire, and +said, 'Who be you that speaks against Raby to Dence?' + +"I tried to pacify her, but it was no use. 'Don't speak to me,' said +she. 'I thought better of you. You and I are out.' I bowed before the +storm, and, to give her time to cool, I obeyed your wishes, and walked +to Cairnhope old church. What a curious place! But I could not get in; +and, on my return, I found Mr. Raby keeps the key. Now, you can't do a +thing here, or say a word, but what it is known all over the village. So +Martha Dence meets me at the door, and says, very stiffly, she thought +I might have told her I wanted to see the old church. I pulled a long, +penitent face, and said, 'Yes; but unfortunately, I was out of her good +books, and had orders not to speak to her.' 'Nay,' says she, 'life is +too short for long quarrels. You are a stranger, and knew no better.' +Then she told me to wait five minutes while she put on her bonnet, as +she calls it. Well, I waited the five and-forty minutes, and she put on +her bonnet, and so many other smart things, that we couldn't possibly +walk straight up to the old church. We had to go round by the butcher's +shop, and order half a pound of suet; no less. 'And bring it yourself, +this evening,' said I, 'or it might get lost on the road.' Says the +butcher, 'Well, sir, that is the first piece of friendly advice any good +Christian has bestowed--' But I heard no more, owing to Martha chasing +me out of the shop. + +"To reach the old church we had to pass the old ruffian's door. Martha +went in; I sauntered on, and she soon came after me, with the key in +her hand. 'But,' said she, 'he told me if my name hadn't been Dence he +wouldn't trust me with it, though I went on my bended knees.' + +"We opened the church-door, and I spent an hour inside, examining and +copying inscriptions for you. But, when I came to take up a loose brass, +to try and decipher it, Martha came screaming at me, 'Oh, put it down! +put it down! I pledged my word to Squire you should not touch them +brasses.' What could I do, mother? The poor girl was in an agony. This +old ruffian has, somehow, bewitched her, and her father too, into a sort +of superstitious devotion that I can't help respecting, unreasonable as +it is. So I dropped the brass, and took to reflecting. And I give you my +thoughts. + +"What a pity and a shame that a building of this size should lie idle! +If it was mine I would carefully remove all the monuments, and the dead +bones, et cetera, to the new church, and turn this old building into a +factory, or a set of granaries, or something useful. It is as great a +sin to waste bricks and mortar as it is bread," etc. + + +"MY DEAR HARRY,--Your dear sprightly letters delight me, and reconcile +me to the separation; for I see that your health is improving every day, +by your gayety; and this makes me happy, though I can not quite be gay. + +"Your last letter was very amusing, yet, somehow, it set me thinking, +long and sadly; and some gentle remarks from Dr. Amboyne (he called +yesterday) have also turned my mind the same way. Time has softened the +terrible blow that estranged my brother and myself, and I begin to +ask myself, was my own conduct perfect? was my brother's quite without +excuse? I may have seen but one side, and been too hasty in judging him. +At all events, I would have you, who are a man, think for yourself, and +not rush into too harsh a view of that unhappy quarrel. Dearest, family +quarrels are family misfortunes: why should they go down to another +generation? You frighten me, when you wonder that Nathan and his family +(I had forgotten his name was Dence) are attached to Mr. Raby. Why, with +all his faults, my brother is a chivalrous, high-minded gentleman; his +word is his bond, and he never deserts a friend, however humble; and I +have heard our dear father say that, for many generations, uncommon acts +of kindness had passed between that family of yeomen and the knights and +squires of Raby. + +"And now, dear, I am going to be very foolish. But, if these Dences +are as great favorites with him as they were with my father, she could +easily get you into the house some day, when he is out hunting; and I do +want you to see one thing more before you come back from Cairnhope--your +mother's picture. It hangs, or used to hang, in the great dining-room, +nearly opposite the fire-place. + +"I blush at my childishness, but I SHOULD like my child to see what his +mother was when she brought him into the world, that sad world in which +he has been her only joy and consolation. + +"P. S.--What an idea! Turn that dear old church into a factory! But you +are a young man of the day. And a wonderful day it is; I can not quite +keep up with it." + + +"DEAR MOTHER,--I have been there. Mr. Raby is a borough magistrate, as +well as a county justice; and was in Hillsborough all day to-day. Martha +Dence took me to Raby Hall, and her name was a passport. When I got to +the door, I felt as if something pulled me, and said, 'It's an enemy's +house; don't go in.' I wish I had obeyed the warning; but I did not. + +"Well, I have seen your portrait. It is lovely, it surpasses any woman I +ever saw. And it must have been your image, for it is very like you now, +only in the bloom of your youth. + +"And now, dear mother, having done something for you, quite against my +own judgment, and my feelings too, please do something for me. Promise +me never to mention Mr. Raby's name to me again, by letter, or by word +of mouth either. He is not a gentleman: he is not a man; he is a mean, +spiteful, cowardly cur. I'll keep out of his way, if I can; but if he +gets in mine, I shall give him a devilish good hiding, then and there, +and I'll tell HIM the reason why; and I will not tell YOU. + +"Dear mother, I did intend to stay till Saturday, but, after this, I +shall come back to you to-morrow. My own sweet dove of a mammy; who but +a beast could hurt or affront you? + +"So no more letters from your dutiful and affectionate son, + +"Harry." + + +Next day young Little took leave of his friends in Cairnhope, with a +promise to come over some Sunday, and see them all. He borrowed a hooked +stick of his devotee, the blacksmith, and walked off with his little +bundle over his shoulder, in high health and spirits, and ripe for any +thing. + +Some successful men are so stout-hearted, their minds seem never to +flinch. Others are elastic; they give way, and appear crushed; but, let +the immediate pressure be removed, they fly back again, and their enemy +finds he has not gained an inch. Henry's was of this sort; and, as he +swung along through the clear brisk air, the world seemed his football +once more. + +This same morning Jael Dence was to go to Cairnhope, at her own request. + +She packed her box, and corded it, and brought it down herself, and put +it in the passage, and the carrier was to call for it at one. As for +herself, four miles of omnibus, and the other seven on foot, was child's +play to her, whose body was as lusty and active as her heart was tender +and clinging. + +She came in to the drawing-room, with her bonnet and shawl on, and the +tear in her eye, to bid Miss Carden good-bye. Two male friends would +have parted in five minutes; but this pair were a wonderful time +separating, and still there was always something to say, that kept +Grace detaining, or Jael lingering; and, when she had been going, going, +going, for more than half an hour, all of a sudden she cried, out, "Oh! +There he is!" and flushed all over. + +"Who?" asked Grace, eagerly. + +"The dark young man. He is at the door now, miss. And me going away," +she faltered. + +"Well then, why go till he has paid his visit? Sit down. You needn't +take off your bonnet." + +Miss Carden then settled herself, took up her work, and prepared to +receive her preceptor as he deserved, an intention she conveyed to Jael +by a glance, just as Henry entered blooming with exercise and the keen +air, and looking extremely handsome and happy. + +His reception was a chilling bow from Miss Carden, and from Jael a cheek +blushing with pleasure at the bare sight of him, but an earnest look +of mild reproach. It seemed cruel of him to stay away so long, and then +come just as she was going. + +This reception surprised Henry, and disappointed him; however he +constrained himself, and said politely, but rather coldly, that some +unpleasant circumstances had kept him away; but he hoped now to keep his +time better. + +"Oh, pray consult your own convenience entirely," said Miss Carden. +"Come when you have nothing better to do; that is the understanding." + +"I should be always coming, at that rate." + +Grace took no notice. "Would you like to see how I look with my one +eyebrow?" said she. "Jael, please fetch it." + +While Jael was gone for the bust, Henry took a humbler tone, and in a +low voice began to excuse his absence; and I think he would have told +the real truth, if he had been encouraged a little; but he was met with +a cold and withering assurance that it was a matter of no consequence. +Henry thought this unfair, and, knowing in his own heart it was +ungrateful, he rebelled. He bit his lip, sat down as gloomy as the +grave, and resumed his work, silent and sullen. + +As for Jael, she brought in the bust, and then sat down with her +bonnet on, quaking; for she felt sure that, in such a dismal dearth of +conversation, Miss Carden would be certain to turn round very soon, and +say, "Well, Jael, you can go now." + +But this Quaker's meeting was interrupted by a doctor looking in to +prescribe for Miss Carden's cold. The said cold was imperceptible to +vulgar eyes, but Grace had detected it, and had written to her friend, +Dr. Amboyne, to come and make it as imperceptible to herself as to the +spectator. + +In rolled the doctor, and was not a little startled at sight of Little. + +"Hallo!" cried be. "What, cured already? Cairnhope forever!" He then +proceeded to feel his pulse instead of Miss Carden's, and inspect his +eye, at which Grace Carden stared. + +"What, is he unwell?" + +"Why, a man does not get blown up with gunpowder without some little +disturbance of the system." + +"Blown up with gunpowder! What DO you mean?" + +"What, have you not heard about it? Don't you read the newspapers?" + +"No; never." + +"Merciful powers! But has he not told you?" + +"No; he tells us nothing." + +"Then I'll tell you, it is of no use your making faces at me. There is +no earthly reason why she should be kept in the dark. These Hillsborough +trades want to drive this young man out of town: why--is too long +and intricate for you to follow. He resists this tyranny, gently, but +firmly." + +"I'd resist it furiously," said Grace. + +"The consequence is, they wrote him several threatening letters; and, at +last, some caitiff put gunpowder into his forge; it exploded, and blew +him out of a second-floor window." + +"Oh! oh!" screamed Grace Carden and Jael; and by one womanly impulse +they both put their hands before their faces, as if to shut out the +horrible picture. + +"What is that for?" said the doctor. "You see he is all right now. But, +I promise you, he cut a very different figure when I saw him directly +afterward; he was scorched as black as a coal--" + +"Oh, doctor, don't; pray don't. Oh, sir, why did you not tell me?" + +"And his face bleeding," continued the merciless doctor. + +"Oh dear! oh dear!" And the sweet eyes were turned, all swimming in +water upon Henry, with a look of angelic pity. + +"His nerves were terribly shaken, but there were no bones broken. I said +to myself, 'He must sleep or go mad, and he will not sleep in the town +that has blown him up.' I just drove the patient off to peace and pure +air, and confided him to one of the best creatures in England--Martha +Dence." + +Jael uttered an exclamation of wonder, which drew attention to her and +her glowing cheeks. + +"Oh yes, Miss Jael," said Henry, "I was going to tell you. I have been a +fortnight with your people, and, if I live a hundred years, I shall not +forget their goodness to me. God bless them." + +"'Twas the least they could do," said Jael, softly. + +"What a pity you are going out. I should have liked to talk to you about +your father, and Martha, and George the blacksmith. Doctor, who would +live in a town after Cairnhope?" + +Jael's fingers trembled at her bonnet-strings, and, turning a look of +piteous supplication on Grace, she faltered out, "If you please, miss, +might I stay over to-day?" + +"Of course. And then he will tell you all about your people, and that +will do just as well as you going to see them; and better." + +Off came Jael's bonnet with wonderful celerity. + +"Get the whole story out of him," said Dr. Amboyne. "It is well worth +your attention. As for me, I must go as soon as I have prescribed for +you. What is the matter?" + +"The matter is that there's nothing the matter; prescribe for that. And +that I'm a goose--prescribe for that--and don't read the newspapers; +prescribe for that." + +"Well, then, I prescribe the Hillsborough Liberal. It has drawn a strong +picture of this outrage, and shown its teeth to the Trades. And, if I +might advise a lady of your age and experience, I would say, in +future always read the newspapers. They are, compared with books, what +machinery is compared with hand-labor. But, in this one instance, go to +the fountain-head, and ask Mr. Henry Little there, to tell you his own +tragedy, with all the ins and outs." + +"Ah! if he would," said Grace, turning her eyes on Henry. "But he is not +so communicative to poor us. Is he, Jael?" + +"No, miss." + +"He never even told us his name. Did he, Jael?" + +"No, miss. He is very close." + +"Open him then," said the doctor. "Come, come, there are a pair of you; +and evidently disposed to act in concert; if you can not turn a man +inside out, I disown you; you are a discredit to your sex." He then +shook hands with all three of them, and rolled away. + +"Jael," said Miss Carden, "oblige me by ringing the bell." + +A servant entered. + +"Not at home to any human creature," said the young lady. + +The servant retired. + +"And, if they see me at the window, all the worse--for THEM. Now, Mr. +Little?" + +Henry complied, and told the whole story, with the exception of the +threat to his sweetheart; and passed two delightful hours. Who is +so devoid of egotism as not to like to tell his own adventures to +sympathizing beauty? He told it in detail, and even read them portions +of the threatening letters; and, as he told it, their lovely eyes seemed +on fire; and they were red, and pale, by turns. He told it, like a +man, with dignity, and sobriety, and never used an epithet. It was Miss +Carden who supplied the "Monsters!" "Villains!" "Cowards!" "Wretches!" +at due intervals. And once she started from her seat, and said she +could not bear it. "I see through it all," she cried. "That Jobson is +a hypocrite; and he is at the bottom of it all. I hate him; and Parkin +worse. As for the assassin, I hope God, who saw him, will punish him. +What I want to do is to kill Jobson and Parkin, one after another; kill +them--kill them--kill them--I'll tell papa." + +As for Jael, she could not speak her mind, but she panted heavily, and +her fingers worked convulsively, and clutched themselves very tight at +last. + +When he had done his narrative, he said sadly, "I despise these fellows +as much as you do; but they are too many for me. I am obliged to leave +Hillsborough." + +"What, let the wretches drive you away? I would never do that--if I was +a man." + +"What would you do, then?" asked Henry, his eye sparkling. + +"Do? Why fight them; and beat them; and kill them, it is not as if they +were brave men. They are only cunning cowards. I'd meet cunning with +cunning. I'd outwit them somehow. I'd change my lodging every week, and +live at little inns and places. I'd lock up every thing I used, as well +as the rooms. I'd consult wiser heads, the editor of the Liberal, and +the Head of the police. I'd carry fire-arms, and have a bodyguard, +night and day; but they should never say they had frightened me out of +Hillsborough--if I was a man." + +"You are all right," cried Henry. "I'll do all you advise me, and I +won't be driven out of this place. I love it. I'll live in it or I'll +die in it. I'll never leave it." + +This was almost the last word that passed this delightful afternoon, +when the sense of her own past injustice, the thrilling nature of the +story told by the very sufferer, and, above all, the presence and the +undisguised emotion of another sympathizing woman, thawed Grace Carden's +reserve, warmed her courage, and carried her, quite unconsciously, over +certain conventional bounds, which had, hitherto, been strictly observed +in her intercourse with this young workman. + +Henry himself felt that this day was an era in his love. When he left +the door, he seemed to tread on air. He walked to the first cab-stand, +took a conveyance to his mother's door, and soon he was locked in her +arms. + +She had been fretting for hours at his delay; but she never let him +know it. The whole place was full of preparations for his comfort, and +certain delicacies he liked were laid out on a little side board, +and the tea-things set, including the silver teapot, used now on high +occasions only. + +She had a thousand questions to ask, and he to answer. And, while he +ate, the poor woman leaned back, and enjoyed seeing him eat; and, +while he talked, her fine eyes beamed with maternal joy. She reveled +deliciously in his health, his beauty, and his safe return to her; +and thought, with gentle complacency, they would soon return to London +together. + +In the morning, she got out a large, light box, and said. "Harry, dear, +I suppose I may as well begin to pack up. You know I take longer than +you do." + +Henry blushed. "Pack up?" said he, hesitatingly. "We are not going +away." + +"Not going away, love? Why you agreed to leave, on account of those +dreadful Unions." + +"Oh, I was ill, and nervous, and out of spirits; but the air of +Cairnhope has made a man of me. I shall stay here, and make our +fortune." + +"But the air of Cairnhope has not made you friends with the unions." +She seemed to reflect a moment, then asked him at what time he had left +Cairnhope. + +"Eleven o'clock." + +"Ah! And whom did you visit before you came to me?" + +"You question me like a child, mother." + +"Forgive me, dear. I will answer my own question. You called on some one +who gave you bad advice." + +"Oh, did I?" + +"On some woman." + +"Say, a lady" + +"What does it matter to me?" cried Mrs. Little, wildly. "They are all my +enemies. And this one is yours. It is a woman, who is not your mother, +for she thinks more of herself than of you." + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +Henry had now to choose between his mother's advice, and Miss Carden's +commands; and this made him rather sullen and irritable. He was glad +to get out of his mother's house, and went direct to the works. Bayne +welcomed him warmly, and, after some friendly congratulations and +inquiries, pulled out two files of journals, and told him he had +promised to introduce him to the editor of the Liberal. He then begged +Henry to wait in the office, and read the files--he would not be gone +many minutes. + +The Constitutional gave a dry narrative of the outrage, and mourned the +frequency of such incidents. + +The Liberal gave a dramatic narrative, and said the miscreant must have +lowered himself by a rope from the parapet, and passed the powder inside +without entering. "He periled his life to perpetrate this crime; and he +also risked penal servitude for ten years. That he was not deterred by +the double risk, proves the influence of some powerful motive; and that +motive must have been either a personal feud of a very virulent kind, or +else trade fanaticism. From this alternative there is no escape." + +Next day, both journals recorded a trade-meeting at "The Rising Sun." +Delegates from the Edge-Tool Forgers' Union, and the Edge-Tool Handlers' +Union, and some other representatives of Hillsborough Unions, were +present, and passed a resolution repudiating, with disgust, the outrage +that had been recently committed, and directed their secretaries to +offer a reward of twenty pounds, the same to be paid to any person +who would give such information as should lead to the discovery of the +culprit. + +On this the Constitutional commented as follows:--"Although we never +for a moment suspected these respectable Unions of conniving at this +enormity, yet it is satisfactory to find them not merely passive +spectators, but exerting their energy, and spending their money, in a +praiseworthy endeavor to discover and punish the offenders." + +Henry laid down the paper, and his heart felt very warm to Jobson and +Parkin. "Come," said he, "I am glad of that. They are not half a bad +sort, those two, after all." + +Then he took up the Liberal, and being young and generous, felt +disgusted at its comment: + +"This appears to be creditable to the two Unions in question. But, +unfortunately, long experience proves that these small rewards never +lead to any discovery. They fail so invariably, that the Unions do +not risk a shilling by proffering them. In dramatic entertainments +the tragedy is followed by a farce: and so it is with these sanguinary +crimes in Hillsborough; they are always followed by a repudiation, and +offers of a trumpery reward quite disproportionate to the offense, and +the only result of the farce is to divert attention from the true line +of inquiry as to who enacted the tragedy. The mind craves novelty, and +perhaps these delegates will indulge that desire by informing us for +once, what was the personal and Corsican feud which led--as they would +have us believe--to this outrage; and will, at the same time, explain +to us why these outrages with gunpowder have never, either in this or in +any preceding case, attacked any but non-union men." + +When Henry had read thus far, the writer of the leader entered the room +with Mr. Bayne. + +A gentleman not above the middle height, but with a remarkable chest, +both broad and deep; yet he was not unwieldy, like Dr. Amboyne, but +clean-built, and symmetrical. An agreeable face, with one remarkable +feature, a mouth full of iron resolution, and a slight humorous dimple +at the corners. + +He shook hands with Henry, and said, "I wish to ask you a question or +two, in the way of business: but first let me express my sympathy, as a +man, and my detestation of the ruffians that have so nearly victimized +you." + +This was very hearty, and Henry thanked him with some emotion. "But, +sir," said he, "if I am to reply to your questions, you must promise me +you will never publish my name." + +"It is on account of his mother," whispered Bayne. + +"Yes, sir. It was her misfortune to lose my father by a violent death, +and of course you may imagine--" + +"Say no more," said Mr. Holdfast: "your name shall not appear. And--let +me see--does your mother know you work here?" + +"Yes, she does." + +"Then we had better keep Cheetham's name out as well." + +"Oh, thank you, sir, thank you. Now I'll answer any questions you like." + +"Well, then, I hear this outrage was preceded by several letters. Could +I see them?" + +"Certainly. I carry mine always in my pocket, for fear my poor mother +should see them: and, Mr. Bayne, you have got Cheetham's." + +In another minute the whole correspondence was on the table, and Mr. +Holdfast laid it out in order, like a map, and went through it, taking +notes. "What a comedy," said he. "All but the denouement. Now, Mr. +Bayne, can any other manufacturers show me a correspondence of this +kind?" + +"Is there one that can't? There isn't a power-wheel, or a water-wheel, +within eight miles of Hillsborough, that can't show you just such a +correspondence as this; and rattening, or worse, at the tail of it." + +Mr. Holdfast's eye sparkled like a diamond. "I'll make the round," said +he. "And, Mr. Little, perhaps you will be kind enough to go with me, +and let me question you, on the road. I have no sub-editor; no staff; +I carry the whole journal on my head. Every day is a hard race between +Time and me, and not a minute to spare." + +Mr. Cheetham was expected at the works this afternoon: so Henry, on +leaving Mr. Holdfast, returned to them, and found him there with Bayne, +looking, disconsolately, over a dozen orders for carving-tools. + +"Glad to see you again, my lad," said Cheetham. "Why, you look all the +better." + +"I'm none the worse, sir." + +"Come to take your balance and leave me?" This was said half +plaintively, half crossly. + +"If you wish it, sir." + +"Not I. How is it to be?" + +"Well, sir, I say to you what you said to me the other day, Stick to me, +and I'll stick to you." + +"I'll stick to you." + +Bayne held up his hands piteously to them both. + +"What sir?" faltered he, turning to Cheetham, "after all your +experience!" then to Henry, "What, fight the Trades, after the lesson +they have given you?" + +"I'll fight them all the more for that," said Henry, grinding his teeth; +"fight them till all is blue." + +"So will I. That for the Trades!" + +"Heaven help you both!" groaned Bayne, and looked the picture of +despair. + +"You promised me shutters, with a detonator, sir." + +"Ay, but you objected." + +"That was before they blew me up." + +"Just so. Shutters shall be hung to-morrow; and the detonators I'll fix +myself." + +"Thank you, sir. Would you mind engaging a watchman?" + +"Hum? Not--if you will share the expense." + +"I'll pay one-third." + +"Why should I pay two thirds? It is not like shutters and Bramah locks: +they are property. However, he'll be good against rattening; and you +have lost a fortnight, and there are a good many orders. Give me a good +day's work, and we won't quarrel over the watchman." He then inquired, +rather nervously, whether there was anything more. + +"No, sir: we are agreed. And I'll give you good work, and full time." + + +The die was cast, and now he must go home and face his mother. For the +first time this many years he was half afraid to go near her. He dreaded +remonstrances and tears: tears that he could not dry; remonstrances that +would worry him, but could not shake him. + +This young man, who had just screwed his physical courage up to defy the +redoubtable Unions had a fit of moral cowardice, and was so reluctant to +encounter the gentlest woman in England, that he dined at a chop-house, +and then sauntered into a music hall, and did not get home till past +ten, meaning to say a few kind, hurried words, then yawn, and slip to +bed. + +But, meantime, Mrs. Little's mind had not been idle. She had long +divined a young rival in her son's heart, and many a little pang of +jealousy had traversed her own. This morning, with a quickness which may +seem remarkable to those who have not observed the watchful keenness +of maternal love, she had seen that her rival had worked upon Henry to +resign his declared intention of leaving Hillsborough. Then she felt her +way, and, in a moment, she had found the younger woman was the stronger. + +She assumed as a matter of course, that this girl was in love with Henry +(who would not be in love with him?), and had hung, weeping, round his +neck, when he called from Cairnhope to bid her farewell, and had made +him promise to stay. This was the mother's theory; wrong, but rational. + +Then came the question, What should she do? Fight against youth and +nature? Fight, unlikely to succeed, sure to irritate and disturb. Risk +any of that rare affection and confidence her son had always given her? + +While her thoughts ran this way, seven o'clock came, and no Henry. Eight +o'clock, and no Henry. "Ah!" thought the mother, "that one word of mine +has had this effect already." + +She prepared an exquisite little supper. She made her own toilet with +particular care; and, when all was ready, she sat down and comforted +herself by reading his letters, and comparing his love with the cavalier +behavior of so many sons in this island, the most unfilial country in +Europe. + +At half past ten Henry came up the stairs, not with the usual light +elastic tread, but with slow, hesitating foot. Her quick ear caught +that too, and her gentle bosom yearned. What, had she frightened him? He +opened the door, and she rose to receive him all smiles. "You are rather +late, dear," she said; "but all the better. It has given me an excuse +for reading your dear letters all over again; and I have a thousand +questions to ask you about Cairnhope. But sit down first, and have your +supper." + +Henry brightened up, and ate a good supper, and his mother plied him +with questions, all about Cairnhope. + +Here was an unexpected relief. Henry took a superficial view of all +this. Sharp young men of twenty-four understand a great many things; but +they can't quite measure their mothers yet. + +Henry was selfishly pleased, but not ungrateful, and they passed a +pleasant and affectionate time: and, as for leaving Hillsborough, the +topic was avoided by tacit consent. + +Next morning, after this easy victory, Henry took a cab and got to +"Woodbine Villa" by a circuitous route. His heart beat high as he +entered the room where Grace was seated. After the extraordinary warmth +and familiarity she had shown him at the last interview, he took for +granted he had made a lasting progress in her regard. + +But she received him with a cold and distant manner, that quite benumbed +him. Grace Carden's face and manner were so much more expressive than +other people's, that you would never mistake or doubt the mood she was +in; and this morning she was freezing. + +The fact is, Miss Carden had been tormenting herself: and when beauty +suffers, it is very apt to make others suffer as well. + +"I am glad you are come, Mr. Little," said she, "for I have been taking +myself to task ever since, and I blame myself very much for some things +I said. In the first place, it was not for me" (here the fair speaker +colored up to the temples) "to interfere in your affairs at all: +and then, if I must take such a liberty, I ought to have advised you +sensibly, and for your good. I have been asking people, and they all +tell me it is madness for one person to fight against these Unions. +Everybody gets crushed. So now let me hope you will carry out your wise +intention, and leave Hillsborough; and then my conscience will be at +ease." + +Every word fell like an icicle on her hearer's heart. To please this +cold, changeful creature, he had settled to defy the unchangeable +Unions, and had been ready to resist his mother, and slight her immortal +and unchanging love. + +"You don't answer me, sir!" said Miss Carden, with an air of lofty +surprise. + +"I answered you yesterday," said he sullenly. "A man can't chop and +change like a weathercock." + +"But it is not changing, it's only going back to your own intention. +You know you were going to leave Hillsborough, before I talked all that +nonsense. Your story had set me on fire, and that's my only excuse. +Well, now, the same person takes the liberty to give you wise and +considerate advice, instead of hot, and hasty, romantic nonsense. Which +ought you to respect most--folly or reason--from the same lips?" + +Henry seemed to reflect. "That sounds reasonable," said he: "but, when +you advised me not to show the white feather, you spoke your heart; now, +you are only talking from your head. Then, your beautiful eyes flashed +fire, and your soul was in your words: who could resist them? And you +spoke to me like a friend; now you speak to me like an enemy." + +"Oh, Mr. Little, that is ridiculous." + +"You do, though. And I'm sure I don't know why." + +"Nor I. Perhaps because I am cross with myself; certainly not with you." + +"I am glad of that. Well, then, the long and the short is, you showed me +you thought it cowardly to fly from the Trades. You wouldn't, said you, +if you were a man. Well, I'm a man; and I'll do as you would do in my +place. I'll not throw my life away, I'll meet craft with craft, and +force with force; but fly I never will. I'll fight while I've a leg to +stand on." + +With these words he began to work on the bust, in a quiet dogged way +that was, nevertheless, sufficiently expressive. + +Grace looked at him silently for half a minute, and then rose from her +chair. + +"Then," said she, "I must go for somebody of more authority than I am." +She sailed out of the room. + +Henry asked Jael who she was gone for. + +"It will be her papa," said Jael. + +"As if I care for what he says." + +"I wouldn't show HER that, if I was you," said Jael, quietly, but with a +good deal of weight. + +"You are right," said Henry. "You are a good girl. I don't know which +is the best, you or Martha. I say, I promised to go to Cairnhope some +Sunday, and see them all. Shall I drive you over?" + +"And bring me back at night?" + +"If you like. I must come back." + +"I'll ask Miss Carden." + +The words were quiet and composed, but the blushing face beamed with +unreasonable happiness; and Grace, who entered at that moment with her +father, was quite struck with its eloquence; she half started, but +took no further notice just then. "There, papa," said she, "this is Mr. +Little." + + +Mr. Carden was a tall gentleman, with somewhat iron features, but a fine +head of gray hair; rather an imposing personage; not the least +pompous though; quite a man of the world, and took a business view of +everything, matrimony, of course, included. + +"Oh, this is Mr. Little, is it, whose work we all admire so much?" + +"Yes, papa." + +"And whose adventure has made so much noise?" + +"Yes, papa." + +"By-the-bye, there is an article to-day on you: have you seen it? No? +But you should see it; it is very smart. My dear" (to Jael), "will you +go to my study, and bring the Liberal here?" + +"Yes, but meantime, I want you to advise him not to subject himself +to more gunpowder and things, but to leave the town; that is all the +wretches demand." + +"And that," said Henry, with a sly, deferential tone, "is a good deal to +demand in a free country, is it not, sir?" + +"Indeed it is. Ah, here comes the Liberal. Somebody read the article to +us, while he works. I want to see how he does it." + +Curiosity overpowered Grace's impatience, for a moment, and she read the +notice out with undisguised interest. + + +"'THE LAST OUTRAGE. + +"'In our first remarks upon this matter, we merely laid down an +alternative which admits of no dispute; and, abstaining from idle +conjectures, undertook to collect evidence. We have now had an interview +with the victim of that abominable outrage. Mr.---- is one of those +superior workmen who embellish that class for a few years, but +invariably rise above it, and leave it' (there--Mr. Little!)--'He has +informed us that he is a stranger in Hillsborough, lives retired, never +sits down in a public-house, and has not a single enemy in Hillsborough, +great or small. He says that his life was saved by his fellow-workmen, +and that as he lay scorched--'(Oh, dear!') + +"Well, go on, Grace." + +"It is all very well to say go on, papa--'scorched and bleeding on the +ground and unable to distinguish faces' (poor, poor Mr. Little!) 'he +heard, on all sides of him, expressions of rugged sympathy and sobs, and +tears, from rough, but--manly fellows, who--'(oh! oh! oh!") + +Grace could not go on for whimpering, and Jael cried, for company. Henry +left off carving, and turned away his head, touched to the heart by this +sweet and sudden sympathy. + +"How badly you read," said Mr. Carden, and took the journal from her. +He read in a loud business-like monotone, that, like some blessed balm, +dried every tear. "'Manly fellows who never shed a tear before: this +disposed of one alternative, and narrowed the inquiry. It was not a +personal feud; therefore it was a Trade outrage, or it was nothing. We +now took evidence bearing on the inquiry thus narrowed; and we found the +assault had been preceded by a great many letters, all of them breathing +the spirit of Unionism, and none of them intimating a private wrong. +These letters, taken in connection, are a literary curiosity; and we +find there is scarcely a manufacturer in the place who has not endured +a similar correspondence, and violence at the end of it. This curious +chapter of the human mind really deserves a separate heading, and we +introduce it to our readers as + +"THE LITERATURE OF OUTRAGE." + +"'First of all comes a letter to the master intimating that he is doing +something objectionable to some one of the many Unions that go to make +a single implement of hardware. This letter has three features. It is +signed with a real name. It is polite. It is grammatical. + +"'If disregarded, it is speedily followed by another. No. 2 is +grammatical, or thereabouts; but, under a feigned politeness, the +insolence of a vulgar mind shows itself pretty plainly, and the master +is reminded what he suffered on some former occasion when he rebelled +against the trades. This letter is sometimes anonymous, generally +pseudonymous. + +"'If this reminder of the past and intimation of the future is +disregarded, the refractory master gets a missive, which begins with +an affectation of coarse familiarity, and then rises, with a ludicrous +bound, into brutal and contemptuous insolence. In this letter, grammar +is flung to the winds, along with good manners; but spelling survives, +by a miracle. Next comes a short letter, full of sanguinary threats, and +written in, what we beg leave to christen, the Dash dialect, because, +though used by at least three million people in England, and three +thousand in Hillsborough, it can only be printed with blanks, the +reason being simply this, that every sentence is measled with oaths and +indecencies. These letters are also written phonetically, and, as the +pronunciation, which directs the spelling, is all wrong, the double +result is prodigious. Nevertheless, many of these pronunciations are +ancient, and were once universal. An antiquarian friend assures us the +orthography of these blackguards, the scum of the nineteenth century, is +wonderfully like that of a mediaeval monk or baron. + +"'When the correspondence has once descended to the Dash dialect, +written phonetically, it never remounts toward grammar, spelling +or civilization; and the next in the business is rattening, or else +beating, or shooting, or blowing-up the obnoxious individual by himself, +or along with a houseful of people quite strange to the quarrel. Now, it +is manifest to common sense, that all this is one piece of mosaic, and +that the criminal act it all ends in is no more to be disconnected from +the last letter, than the last letter from its predecessor, or letter +three from letter two. Here is a crime first gently foreshadowed, then +grimly intimated, then directly threatened, then threatened in words +that smell of blood and gunpowder, and then--done. The correspondence +and the act reveal-- + +"The various talents, but the single mind." + +"'In face of this evidence, furnished by themselves, the trades Unions, +some member of which has committed this crime, will do well to drop the +worn-out farce of offering a trumpery reward and to take a direct and +manly course. They ought to accept Mr.----'s preposterously liberal +offer, and admit him to the two Unions, and thereby disown the criminal +act in the form most consolatory to the sufferer: or else they should +face the situation, and say, "This act was done under our banner, though +not by our order, and we stand by it." The Liberal will continue to +watch the case.'" + + +"This will be a pill," said Mr. Carden, laying down the paper. "Why, +they call the Liberal the workman's advocate." + +"Yes, papa," said Grace; "but how plainly he shows--But Mr. Little is a +stranger, and even this terrible lesson has not--So do pray advise him." + +"I shall be very happy; but, when you are my age, you will know it is of +little use intruding advice upon people." + +"Oh, Mr. Little will treat it with proper respect, coming from one so +much older than himself, and better acquainted with this wretched town. +Will you not, Mr. Little?" said she, with so cunning a sweetness that +the young fellow was entrapped, and assented, before he knew what he was +about; then colored high at finding himself committed. + +Mr. Carden reflected a moment. He then said, "I can't take upon myself +to tell any man to give up his livelihood. But one piece of advice I can +conscientiously give Mr. Little." + +"Yes, papa." + +"And that is--TO INSURE HIS LIFE." + +"Oh, papa!" cried Grace. + +As for Henry he was rather amused, and his lip curled satirically. But +the next moment he happened to catch sight of Jael Dence's face; her +gray eyes were expanded with a look of uneasiness; and, directly she +caught his eye she fixed it, and made him a quick movement of the head, +directing him to assent. + +There was something so clear and decided in the girl's manner that it +overpowered Henry who had no very clear idea to oppose to it, and he +actually obeyed the nod of this girl, whom he had hitherto looked on as +an amiable simpleton. + +"I have no objection to that," said he, turning to Mr. Carden. Then, +after another look at Jael, he said, demurely, "Is there any insurance +office you could recommend?" + +Mr. Carden smiled. "There is only one I have a right to recommend, and +that is the 'Gosshawk.' I am a director. But," said he, with sudden +stiffness, "I could furnish you with the names of many others." + +Henry saw his way clear by this time. "No, sir, if I profit by your +advice, the least I can do is to choose the one you are a director of." + +Grace, who had latterly betrayed uneasiness and irritation, now rose, +red as fire. "The conversation is taking a turn I did not at all +intend," said she, and swept out of the room with royal disdain. + +Her father apologized carelessly for her tragical exit. "That is a +young lady who detests business; but she does not object to its +fruits--dresses, lace, footmen, diamonds, and a carriage to drive about +in. On the contrary, she would be miserable without them." + +"I should hope she never will be without them, sir." + +"I'll take care of that." + +Mr. Carden said this rather dryly, and then retired for a minute; and +Grace who was not far off, with an ear like a hare, came back soon +after. + +But in the meantime Henry left his seat and went to Jael, and, leaning +over her as she worked, said, "There is more in that head of yours than +I thought." + +"Oh, they all talk before me," said Jael, blushing faintly, and avoiding +his eye. + +"Jael Dence," said the young man, warmly, "I'm truly obliged to you." + +"What for?" + +"For your good advice. I didn't see how good it was till after I had +taken it." + +"I'm afeard Miss Grace gave you better." + +"She advised me against my heart. What is the use of that?" + +"Ay, young men are willful." + +"Come, come, don't you go back. You are my friend and counselor." + +"That is something," said Jael, in a low voice; and her hands trembled +at her side. + +"Why, my dear girl, what's the matter?" + +"Hush! hush?" + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +Grace came in, that moment, with a superb air. She settled herself on +the sofa. + +"Now, it is my turn, if you please. Pray, sir, do you think your life +will be any safer for your insuring it? Insuring does not mean that +you are not to be killed; but that, when you ARE, for your obstinacy, +somebody else will get paid some money, to dance with over your grave." + +"I beg your pardon, Grace," said Mr. Carden, entering with some printed +papers in his hand. "That is not the only use of an insurance. He may +want to marry, or to borrow a sum of money to begin business; and then +a policy of insurance, with two or three premiums paid, smooths the +difficulty. Everybody should make a will, and everybody should insure +his life." + +"Well then, sir, I will do both." + +"Stop!" said Mr. Carden, who could now afford to be candid. "First of +all, you ought to satisfy yourself of the flourishing condition of the +company." He handed him a prospectus. "This will show you our capital, +and our disbursements last year, and the balance of profit declared. And +this gives the balance sheet of the 'Vulture' and the 'Falcon,' which +have assigned their business to us, and are now incorporated in the +'Gosshawk.'" + +"Oh, what a voracious bird!" observed Grace. "I hope these other +chickabiddies will not prove indigestible. Were they plucked first, +papa? or did the 'Gosshawk' swallow them feathers and all?" + +Little laughed heartily at this pert sally, but Mr. Carden winced under +it. + +Then Grace saw she was not quite weaponless, and added, "After such a +meal, as that, Mr. Little, you will go down like a crumb." + +"Grace, that is enough," said Mr. Carden, rather severely. + +Grace held her tongue directly, and the water came into her eyes. +Anything like serious remonstrance was a novelty to her. + +When Henry had read the papers, Mr. Carden asked him, rather carelessly, +what sum he wished to be insured for. + +Now Henry had so little wish about the matter, that he had not given it +a thought, and the question took him quite aback. He looked helplessly +at Jael. To his surprise, she decided on the sum for him, without a +moment's hesitation, and conveyed the figure with that dexterity which +the simplest of her sex can command whenever telegraphy is wanted. She +did it with two unbroken movements; she put up all the fingers of her +right hand to her brow, and that meant five: then she turned her hand +rapidly, so as to hide her mouth from the others, who were both on her +right hand, and she made the word thousand clear, with her lips and +tongue, especially the "th." + +But the sum staggered Henry; and made him think he must be +misinterpreting her. + +He hesitated, to gain time. "Hum!" said he, "the sum?" + +Jael repeated her pantomime as before. + +Still Henry doubted, and, to feel his way, said, half interrogatively, +"Five--thou--sand?" + +Jael nodded. + +"Five thousand pounds," said Henry, as bold as brass. + +"Five thousand pounds!" cried Mr. Carden. "A workman insure his life for +five thousand pounds!" + +"Well, a man's life is worth five thousand pounds, or it is worth +nothing. And, sir, how long do you think I shall be a workman, +especially in Hillsborough, where from workman to master is no more than +hopping across a gutter?" + +Mr. Carden smiled approval. "But five thousand pounds! The annual +premium will be considerable. May I ask about how much you make a year?" + +"Oh, papa!" + +"Well, sir, Mr. Cheetham pays me L300 a year, at the rate of, and I can +make another L100 by carving at odd times. But, if you doubt my ability, +let us stay as we are, sir. It was your proposal, not mine, you know." + +"Young man," said Mr. Carden, "never be peppery in business." He +said this so solemnly and paternally, it sounded like the eleventh +commandment. + +To conclude, it was arranged Henry should take the higher class of +insurance, which provided for accidents, voyages, everything, and should +be insured for L5000, provided the physician appointed by the company +should pronounce him free from disease. + +Henry then rose, and said, sorrowfully, to Grace, "You will not see me +here very often now; and never on Saturday afternoon or Monday morning. +I am not going to have some blackguard tracking me, and flinging a +can of gunpowder in at your window. When I do come, it will be in the +morning, and on a working day; and I shall perhaps go ten miles round +to get here. It must be diamond cut diamond, for many a month to come, +between the Trades and me." He uttered these words with manly gravity, +as one who did not underrate the peril he was resolved to face; and left +them with a respectful bow. + +"That's a rising man," said Mr. Carden; "and may draw a hundred of his +class to the 'Gosshawk.' It was a good stroke of business, quite out of +the common." + +Grace said not a word, but she shook her head and looked pained and ill +at ease. Jael watched her fixedly. + +Henry called at the works that night, and examined the new defenses, +with Mr. Cheetham. He also bought a powerful magnifying-glass; and next +morning he came to the factory, examined the cinders, and everything +else, with the magnifier, lighted his forge, and resumed his work. + +At dinner-time he went out and had his chop, and read the Liberal; it +contained a letter from Jobson, in reply to the editor. + +Jobson deplored the criminal act, admitted that the two Unions had +decided no individual could be a forger, a handler, and a cutler; such +an example was subversive of all the Unions in the city, based, as they +were, on subdivision of crafts. "But," said Mr Jobson, "we were dealing +with the matter in a spirit quite inconsistent with outrages, and I +am so anxious to convince the public of this, that I have asked a +very experienced gentleman to examine our minute-books, and report +accordingly." + +This letter was supplemented by one from Mr. Grotait, secretary of the +Saw-Grinders, which ran thus:--"Messrs. Parkin and Jobson have appealed +to me to testify to certain facts. I was very reluctant to interfere, +for obvious reasons; but was, at last, prevailed on to examine the +minute-books of those two Unions, and they certainly do prove that on +the very evening before the explosion, those trades had fully discussed +Mr. ----'s case" (the real name was put, but altered by the editor), +"and had disposed of it as follows. They agreed, and this is entered +accordingly, to offer him his traveling expenses (first class) to +London, and one pound per week, from their funds, until such time as he +should obtain employment. I will only add, that both these secretaries +spoke kindly to me of Mr. ----; and, believing them to be sincere, I +ventured to advise them to mark their disapproval of the criminal act, +by offering him two pounds per week, instead of one pound; which advice +they have accepted very readily." + +Henry was utterly confounded by these letters. + +Holdfast commented on them thus: + +"Messrs. Jobson and Parkin virtually say that if A, for certain reasons, +pushes a man violently out of Hillsborough, and B draws him gently +out of Hillsborough for the same reasons, A and B can not possibly be +co-operating. Messrs. Parkin and Jobson had so little confidence in +this argument, which is equivalent to saying there is no such thing as +cunning in trade, that they employed a third party to advance it with +all the weight of his popularity and seeming impartiality. But who is +this candid person that objects to assume the judge, and assumes the +judge? He is the treasurer and secretary of an Union that does not +number three hundred persons; yet in that small Union, of which he +is dictator, there has been as much rattening, and more shooting, and +blowing-up wholesale and retail, with the farcical accompaniment of +public repudiation, than in all the other Unions put together. We +consider the entrance of this ingenuous personage on the scene a bad +omen, and shall watch all future proceedings with increased suspicion." + +Henry had hardly done reading this, when a man came into the works, +and brought him his fifteen pounds back from Mr. Jobson, and a line, +offering him his expenses to London, and two pounds per week, from the +Edge-Tool Forgers' box, till he should find employment. Henry took his +money, and sent back word that the proposal came too late; after the +dastardly attempt to assassinate him, he should defy the Unions, until +they accepted his terms. Jobson made no reply. And Henry defied the +Unions. + +The Unions lay still, like some great fish at the bottom of a pool, and +gave no sign of life or animosity. This did not lull Henry into a false +security. He never relaxed a single precaution. He avoided "Woodbine +Villa;" he dodged and doubled like a hare, to hide his own abode. But he +forged, handled, and finished, in spite of the Unions. + +The men were civil to him in the yard, and he had it all his own way, +apparently. + +He was examined by a surgeon, and reported healthy. He paid the +insurance premium, and obtained the policy. So now he felt secure, under +the aegis of the Press, and the wing of the "Gosshawk." By-and-by, that +great fish I have mentioned gave a turn of its tail, and made his placid +waters bubble a little. + +A woman came into the yard, with a can of tea for her husband, and a +full apron. As she went out, she emptied a set of tools out of her apron +on to an old grindstone, and slipped out. + +The news of this soon traveled into the office, and both Cheetham and +Bayne came out to look at them. + +They were a set of carving-tools, well made, and highly polished; and +there was a scrap of paper with this distich: + + "We are Hillsborough made, + Both haft and blade." + +Cheetham examined them, and said, "Well, they are clever fellows. I +declare these come very near Little's: call him down and let us draw +him." + +Bayne called to Henry, and that brought him down, and several more, who +winded something. + +"Just look at these," said Cheetham. + +Little colored: he saw the finger of the Unions at once, and bristled +all over with caution and hostility. + +"I see them, sir. They are very fair specimens of cutlery; and there are +only about twenty tools wanting to make a complete set; but there is one +defect in them as carving-tools." + +"What is that?" + +"They are useless. You can't carve wood with them. None but a practical +carver can design these tools, and then he must invent and make the +steel molds first. Try and sell them in London or Paris, you'll soon +find the difference. Mr. Bayne, I wonder you should call me from +my forge to examine 'prentice-work." And, with this, he walked off +disdainfully, but not quite easy in his mind, for he had noticed a +greedy twinkle in Cheetham's eye. + +The next day all the grinders in Mr. Cheetham's employ, except the +scissors-grinders, rose, all of a sudden, like a flock of partridges, +and went out into the road. + +"What is up now?" inquired Bayne. The answer was, their secretaries had +sent for them. + +They buzzed in the road, for a few minutes, and then came back to work. + +At night there was a great meeting at the "Cutlers' Arms," kept by Mr. +Grotait. + +At noon the next day, all the grinders aforesaid in Mr. Cheetham's +employ walked into the office, and left, each of them, a signed paper to +this effect: + +"This is to give you notice that I will leave your service a week after +the date thereof." (Meaning "hereof," I presume.) + +Cheetham asked several of them what was up. Some replied civilly, it was +a trade matter. Others suggested Mr. Cheetham knew as much about it as +they did. + +Not a single hot or uncivil word was spoken on either side. The game had +been played too often for that, and with results too various. + +One or two even expressed a sort of dogged regret. The grinder Reynolds, +a very honest fellow, admitted, to Mr. Cheetham, that he thought it +a sorry trick, for a hundred men to strike against one that had had a +squeak for his life. "But no matter what I think or what I say, I must +do what the Union bids me, sir." + +"I know that, my poor fellow," said Cheetham. "I quarrel with none of +you. I fight you all. The other masters, in this town, are mice, but I'm +a man." + +This sentiment he repeated very often during the next six days. + +The seventh came and the grinders never entered the works. + +Cheetham looked grave. However, he said to Bayne, "Go and find out where +they are. Do it cleverly now. Don't be noticed." + +Bayne soon ascertained they were all in the neighboring public-houses. + +"I thought so," said Cheetham. "They will come in, before night. They +sha'n't beat me, the vagabonds. I'm a man, I'm not a mouse." + +"Orders pouring in, sir," sighed Bayne. "And the grinders are rather +behind the others in their work already." + +"They must have known that: or why draw out the grinders? How could they +know it?" + +"Sir," said Bayne, "they say old Smitem is in this one. Wherever he is, +the master's business is known, or guessed, heaven knows how; and, +if there is a hole in his coat, that hole is hit. Just look at the +cleverness of it, sir. Here we are, wrong with the forgers and handlers. +Yet they come into the works and take their day's wages. But they draw +out the grinders, and mutilate the business. They hurt you as much as if +they struck, and lost their wages. But no, they want their wages to help +pay the grinders on strike. Your only chance was to discharge every man +in the works, the moment the grinders gave notice." + +"Why didn't you tell me so, then?" + +"Because I'm not old Smitem. He can see a thing beforehand. I can see it +afterward. I'm like the weatherwise man's pupil; as good as my master, +give me time. The master could tell you, at sunrise, whether the day +would be wet or dry, and the pupil he could tell you at sunset: and that +is just the odds between old Smitem and me." + +"Well, if he is old Smitem, I'm old Fightem." + +At night, he told Bayne he had private information, that the grinders +were grumbling at being made a cat's-paw of by the forgers and the +handlers. "Hold on," said he; "they will break up before morning." + +At ten o'clock next day he came down to the works, and some peremptory +orders had poured in. "They must wait," said he, peevishly. + +At twelve he said, "How queer the place seems, and not a grindstone +going. It seems as still as the grave. I'm a man; I'm not a mouse." + +Mr. Cheetham repeated this last fact in zoology three times, to leave no +doubt of it in his own mind, I suppose. + +At 1.00, he said he would shut up the works rather than be a slave. + +At 1.15 he blustered. + +At 1.20 he gave in: collapsed in a moment, like a punctured bladder. +"Bayne," said he, with a groan, "go to Jobson, and ask him to come and +talk this foolish business over." + +"Excuse me, sir," said Bayne. "Don't be offended; but you are vexed and +worried, and whoever the Union sends to you will be as cool as marble. I +have just heard it is Redcar carries the conditions." + +"What, the foreman of my own forgers! Is he to dictate to me?" cried +Cheetham, grinding his teeth with indignation. + +"Well, sir, what does it matter?" said Bayne, soothingly. "He is no more +than a mouthpiece." + +"Go for him," said Cheetham, sullenly. + +"But, sir, I can't bear that your own workman should see you so +agitated." + +"Oh, I shall be all right the moment I see my man before me." + +Bayne went off, and soon returned with Redcar. The man had his coat on, +but had not removed his leathern apron. + +Cheetham received him as the representative of the Unions. "Sit down, +Redcar, and let us put an end to this little bother. What do you +require?" + +"Mr. Little's discharge, sir." + +"Are you aware he is with me on a month's notice?" + +"They make a point of his leaving the works at once, sir; and I was to +beg you to put other hands into his room." + +"It is taking a great liberty to propose that." + +"Nay. They only want to be satisfied. He has given a vast o' trouble." + +"I'll give him a month's warning. If I discharge him on the spot, he can +sue me." + +"That has been thought on. If he sues you, you can talk to the Unions, +and they will act with you. But the grinders are not to come in till +Little is out." + +"Well, so be it, then." + +"And his rooms occupied by Union men?" + +"If I swallow the bolus, I may as well swallow the pills. Anything +more?" + +"The grinders are not to lose their time; a day and a half." + +"What! am I to pay them for not working?" + +"Well, sir, if we had come to you, of course the forgers and handlers +would have paid the grinders for lost time; but, as you have come to us, +you will have to pay them." + +Cheetham made a wry face; but acquiesced. + +"And then, sir," said Redcar, "there's another little matter. The +incidental expenses of the strike." + +"I don't know what you mean." + +"The expenses incurred by the secretaries, and a little present +to another gentleman, who advised us. It comes to thirty pounds +altogether." + +"What!" cried Cheetham, struggling with his rising choler. "You want me +to pay men thirty pounds for organizing a strike, that will cost me so +dear, and rob me of a whole trade that was worth L300 a year? Why not +charge me for the gunpowder you blew up Little with, and spoiled my +forge? No, Bayne, no; this is too unjust and too tyrannical. Flesh +and blood won't bear it. I'll shut up the works, and go back to my +grindstone. Better live on bread and water than live like a slave." + +Redcar took a written paper out of his pocket. "There are the terms +written down," said he, "if you sign them, the strike ends; if you +don't, it continues--till you do." + +Cheetham writhed under the pressure. Orders were pouring in; trade +brisk; hands scarce. Each day would add a further loss of many pounds +for wages, and doubtless raise fresh exactions. He gulped down something +very like a sob, and both his hand and his voice shook with strong +passion as he took the pen. "I'll sign it; but if ever my turn comes, +I'll remember this against you. This shows what they really are, Bayne. +Oh, if ever you workmen get power, GOD HELP THE WORLD!" + +These words seemed to come in a great prophetic agony out of a bursting +heart. + +But the representative of the Unions was neither moved by them nor +irritated. + +"All right," said he, phlegmatically; "the winner takes his bite: the +loser gets his bark: that's reason." + + +Henry Little was in his handling-room, working away, with a bright +perspective before him, when Bayne knocked at the door, and entered with +Redcar. Bayne's face wore an expression so piteous, that Henry divined +mischief at once. + +"Little, my poor fellow, it is all over. We are obliged to part with +you." + +"Cheetham has thrown me over?" + +"What could he do? I am to ask you to vacate these rooms, that we may +get our half-day out of the grinders." + +Henry turned pale, but there was no help for it. + +He got up in a very leisurely way; and, while he was putting on his +coat, he told Bayne, doggedly, he should expect his month's salary. + +As he was leaving, Redcar spoke to him in rather a sheepish way. "Shake +hands, old lad," said he; "thou knows one or t'other must win; and +there's not a grain of spite against thee. It's just a trade matter." + +Henry stood with his arms akimbo, and looked at Redcar. "I was in +hopes," said he, grinding his teeth, "you were going to ask me to take a +turn with you in the yard, man to man. But I can't refuse my hand to one +of my own sort that asks it. There 'tis. After all, you deserve to win, +for you are true to each other; but a master can't be true to a man, nor +to anything on earth, but his pocket." + +He then strolled out into the yard, with his hands in his pockets, and +whistled "The Harmonious Blacksmith" very sick at heart. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +The strike was over, the grinders poured into the works, and the +grindstones revolved. Henry Little leaned against an angle of the +building, and listened with aching heart to their remorseless thunder. +He stood there disconsolate--the one workman out of work--and sipped +the bitter cup, defeat. Then he walked out at the gates, and wandered +languidly into the streets. He was miserable, and had nobody to mourn +to, for the main cause of his grief lay beneath the surface of this +defeat; and how could he reveal it, now that his ambitious love looked +utter madness? Young as he was, he had seen there is no sympathy in the +world for any man who loves out of his sphere. Indeed, whatever cures +or crushes such a passion, is hailed by the by-standers as a sharp but +wholesome medicine. + +He sauntered about, and examined all the shops with lack-luster eye. He +looked in at everything, but observed nothing, scarcely saw anything. +All his senses were turned inward. It was such a pitiable and galling +result of a gallant fight. Even the insurance office had got the better +of him. It had taken one-third of his savings, and the very next day his +trade was gone, and his life in no danger. The "Gosshawk" had plucked +him, and the trade had tied his hands. Rack his invention how he would, +he could see no way of becoming a master in Hillsborough, except by +leaving Hillsborough, and working hard and long in some other town. He +felt in his own heart the love and constancy to do this; but his reason +told him such constancy would be wasted; for while he was working at a +distance, the impression, if any, he had made on her would wear away, +and some man born with money, would step in and carry her gayly off. +This thought returned to him again and again, and exasperated him so at +last, that he resolved to go to "Woodbine Villa," and tell her his heart +before he left the place. Then he should be rejected, no doubt, but +perhaps pitied, and not so easily forgotten as if he had melted silently +away. + +He walked up the hill, first rapidly, then slowly. He called at +"Woodbine Villa." + +The answer was "Not at home." + +"Everything is against me," said he. + +He wandered wearily down again, and just at the entrance of the town +he met a gentleman with a lady on each arm, and one of those ladies was +Miss Carden. The fortunate cavalier was Mr. Coventry, whom Henry would +have seen long before this, but he had been in Paris for the last four +months. He had come back fuller than ever of agreeable gossip, and Grace +was chatting away to him, and beaming with pleasure, as innocent girls +do, when out on a walk with a companion they like. She was so absorbed +she did not even see Henry Little. He went off the pavement to make room +for their tyrannical crinolines, and passed unnoticed. + +He had flushed with joy at first sight of her, but now a deadly qualm +seized him. The gentleman was handsome and commanding; Miss Carden +seemed very happy, hanging on his arm; none the less bright and happy +that he, her humble worshiper, was downcast and wretched. + +It did not positively prove much; yet it indicated how little he must +be to her: and somehow it made him realize more clearly the great +disadvantage at which he lay, compared with an admirer belonging to her +own class. Hitherto his senses had always been against his reason: but +now for once they co-operated with his judgment, and made him feel that, +were he to toil for years in London, or Birmingham, and amass a fortune, +he should only be where that gentleman was already; and while the +workman, far away, was slaving, that gentleman and others would be +courting her. She might refuse one or two. But she would not refuse them +all. + +Then, in his despair, he murmured, "Would to God I had never seen her!" + +He made a fierce resolve he would go home, and tell his mother she could +pack up. + +He quickened his steps, for fear his poor sorrowful heart should falter. + +But, when he had settled on this course, lo! a fountain of universal +hatred seemed to bubble in his heart. He burned to inflict some mortal +injury upon Jobson, Parkin, Grotait, Cheetham, and all who had taken +a part, either active or passive, in goading him to despair. Now Mr. +Cheetham's works lay right in his way; and it struck him he could make +Cheetham smart a little. Cheetham's god was money. Cheetham had thrown +him over for money. He would go to Cheetham, and drive a dagger into his +pocket. + +He walked into the office. Mr. Cheetham was not there: but he found +Bayne and Dr. Amboyne. + +"Mr. Bayne," said he, abruptly, "I am come for my month's wages." + +The tone was so aggressive, Bayne looked alarmed. "Why, Little, poor Mr. +Cheetham is gone home with a bad headache, and a sore heart." + +"All the better. I don't want to tell him to his face he is a bragging +cur; all I want out of him now is my money; and you can pay me that." + +The pacific Bayne cast a piteous glance at Dr. Amboyne. "I have told you +the whole business, sir. Oughtn't Mr. Little to wait till to-morrow, and +talk it over with Mr. Cheetham? I'm only a servant: and a man of peace." + +"Whether he ought or not, I think I can answer for him that he will." + +"I can't, sir," said Henry, sturdily. "I leave the town to-morrow." + +"Oh, that alters the case. But must you leave us so soon?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"I am very sorry for that. Tell me your reason. I don't ask out of mere +curiosity." + +Henry replied with less than his usual candor; "Is it not reason enough +for leaving a place, that my life has been attempted in it, and now my +livelihood is taken?" + +"Those are strong reasons. But, on the other hand, your life is no +longer in danger; and your livelihood is not gone; for, to speak +plainly, I came over here the moment I heard you were discharged, to +ask if you would enter my service on the same terms as Mr. Cheetham gave +you, only guineas instead of pounds." + +"What, turn doctor?" + +"Oh dear, no; the doctors' Union would forbid that. No, Mr. Little, I am +going to ask you to pay me a compliment; to try my service blindfold for +one week. You can leave it if you don't like it; but give me one week's +trial." + +"How can I refuse you that?" said Henry, hanging his head. "You have +been a good friend to me. But, sir, mark my words, this place will be my +destruction. Well, when am I to begin work?" + +"To-morrow, at ten." + +"So be it," said Henry, wearily, then left the works and went home; +but, as he went, he said to himself. "It is not my doing." And his +double-faced heart glowed and exulted secretly. + +He told his mother how the Trades had beaten him, and he was out of +work. + +Mrs. Little consoled him hypocritically. She was delighted. Then he told +her his departure had been delayed by Dr. Amboyne: that made her look a +little anxious. + +"One question, dear: now the Union has beaten you, they will not be so +spiteful, will they?" + +"Oh, no. That is all over. The conquerors can afford to be good-natured. +Confound them!" + +"Then that is all I care about. Then do not leave Hillsborough. Why +should you? Wait here patiently. You do not know what may turn up." + +"What, mother, do YOU want to stay here now?" said Henry, opening his +eyes with astonishment. + +"Wherever my son is happy and safe from harm, there I wish to stay--of +course." + +Next morning Henry called on Dr. Amboyne, and found him in his study, +teaching what looked a boy of sixteen, but was twenty-two, to read +monosyllables. On Little's entrance the pupil retired front his uphill +work, and glowered with vacillating eyes. The lad had a fair feminine +face, with three ill things in it: a want, a wildness, and a weakness. +To be sure Henry saw it at a disadvantage: for vivid intelligence would +come now and then across this mild, wild, vacant face, like the breeze +that sweeps a farm-yard pond. + +"Good-morning, Little. This is your fellow-workman." + +"He does not look up to much," said Henry, with all a workman's +bluntness. + +"What, you have found him out! Never mind; he can beat the town at one +or two things, and it is for these we will use him. Some call him an +idiot. The expression is neat and vigorous, but not precise; so I have +christened him the Anomaly. Anomaly, this is Mr. Little; go and shake +hands with him, and admire him." + +The Anomaly went directly, and gazed into Little's face for some time. + +He then made his report. "He is beautiful and black." + +"I've seen him blacker. Now leave off admiring him, and look at these +pictures while I prose. Two thousand philosophers are writing us +dead with 'Labor and Capital.' But I vary the bore. 'Life, Labor, and +Capital,' is my chant: and, whereas Life has hitherto been banished from +the discussion, I put Life in its true place, at the head of the trio. +(And Life I divide into long Life, and happy Life.) The subject is too +vast to be dealt with all at once; but I'll give you a peep of it. The +rustic laborer in the South sells his labor for too little money to +support life comfortably. That is a foul wrong. The rustic laborer in +the North has small wages, compared with a pitman, or a cutler; but he +has enough for health, and he lives longer and more happily than either +the pitman or the cutler; so that account is square, in my view of +things. But now dive into the Hillsborough trades, and you will find +this just balance of Life, Labor, and Capital regarded in some, but +defied in others: a forger is paid as much or more than a dry-grinder, +though forging is a hard but tolerably healthy trade, and dry-grinding +means an early death after fifteen years of disease and misery. The +file-cutters are even more killed and less paid. What is to be done +then? Raise the wages of the more homicidal trades! But this could only +be done by all the Unions acting in concert. Now the rival philosophers, +who direct the Unions, are all against Democritus--that's myself; they +set no value on life. And indeed the most intelligent one, Grotait, +smiles blandly on Death, and would grind his scythe for him--AT THE +STATEMENT PRICE--because that scythe thins the labor market, and so +helps keep up prices." + +"Then what can we do? I'm a proof one can't fight the Unions." + +"Do? Why, lay hold of the stick at the other end. Let Pseudo-Philosophy +set the means above the end, and fix its shortsighted eyes on Labor and +Capital, omitting Life. (What does it profit a file-cutter if he gains +his master's whole capital and loses his own life?) But you and I, Mr. +Little, are true philosophers and the work we are about to enter on +is--saving cutlers' lives." + +"I'd rather help take them." + +"Of course; and that is why I made the pounds guineas." + +"All right, sir," said Henry, coloring. "I don't expect to get six +guineas a week for whistling my own tune. How are we to do the job?" + +"By putting our heads together. You have, on the side of your temple, a +protuberance, which I have noticed in the crania of inventors. So I want +you to go round the works, and observe for yourself how Life is thrown +gayly away, in a moment, by needless accident, and painfully gnawed away +by steel-dust, stone grit, sulphuret of lead, etc.; and then cudgel your +brain for remedies." + +"Sir," said Henry, "I am afraid I shall not earn my money. My heart is +not in the job." + +"Revenge is what you would like to be at, not Philanthropy--eh?" + +"Ay, doctor." And his black eye flashed fire. + +"Well, well, that is natural. Humor my crotchet just now, and perhaps I +may humor yours a month or two hence. I think I could lay my hand on the +fellow who blew you up." + +"What, sir! Ah! tell me that, and I'll do as much philanthropy as you +like--after--" + +"After you have punched your fellow-creature's head." + +"But it is impossible, sir. How can you know? These acts are kept as +secret as the grave." + +"And how often has the grave revealed its secrets to observant men? Dr. +Donne sauntered about among graves, and saw a sexton turn up a skull. +He examined it, found a nail in it, identified the skull, and had the +murderess hung. She was safe from the sexton and the rest of the parish, +but not from a stray observer. Well, the day you were blown up, I +observed something, and arrived at a conclusion, by my art." + +"What, physic?" + +"Oh, dear, no; my other art, my art of arts, that I don't get paid for; +the art of putting myself in other people's places. I'll tell you. While +you lay on the ground, in Mr. Cheetham's yard, I scanned the workmen's +faces. They were full of pity and regret, and were much alike in +expression--all but one. That one looked a man awakened from a dream. +His face was wild, stupid, confused, astonished. 'Hallo!' said I, 'why +are your looks so unlike the looks of your fellows?' Instantly I +put myself in his place. I ceased to be the Democritus, or laughing +philosopher of Hillsborough, and became a low uneducated brute of a +workman. Then I asked this brute, viz, myself, why I was staring and +glaring in that way, stupidly astonished, at the injured man? 'Were you +concerned in the criminal act, ye blackguard?' said I to myself. The +next step was to put myself in the place of the criminal. I did so; and +I realized that I, the criminal, had done the act to please the Unions, +and expecting the sympathy of all Union workmen to be with me. Also that +I, being an ignorant brute, had never pictured to myself what suffering +I should inflict. But what was the result? I now saw the sufferer, and +did not like my own act; and I found all the sympathy of my fellows went +with him, and that I was loathed and execrated, and should be lynched +on the spot were I to own my act. I now whipped back to Dr. Amboyne with +the theory thus obtained, and compared it with that face; the two fitted +each other, and I saw the criminal before me." + +"Good heavens! This is very deep." + +"No slop-basin was ever deeper. So leave it for the present, and go +to work. Here are cards admitting you, as my commissioner, to all the +principal works. Begin with--Stop a moment, while I put myself in your +place. Let me see, 'Cheetham's grinders think they have turned me out of +Hillsborough. That mortifies a young man of merit like me. Confound +'em! I should like to show them they have not the power to drive me out. +Combine how they will, I rise superior. I forge as they could not forge: +that was my real crime. Well, I'll be their superior still. I'm their +inspector, and their benefactor, at higher wages than they, poor devils, +will ever earn at inspecting and benefiting, or any thing else.' Ah! +your color rises. I've hit the right nail, isn't it an excellent and +most transmigratory art? Then begin with Cheetham. By-the-bye, the +Anomaly has spotted a defective grindstone there. Scrutinize all his +departments severely; for no man values his people's lives less than my +good friend John Cheetham. Away with you both; and God speed you." + +Henry walked down the street with the Anomaly, and tried to gauge his +intellects. + +"What's your real name, my man?" + +"Silly Billy." + +"Oh, then I'm afraid you can't do much to help me." + +"Oh yes, I can, because--" + +"Because what?" + +"Because I like you." + +"Well, that's lucky, any way." + +"Billy can catch trout when nobody else can," said the youngster, +turning his eyes proudly up to Henry's. + +"Oh, indeed! But you see that is not exactly what the doctor wants us +for." + +"Nay; he's wrapped up in trout. If it wasn't for Billy and the trout, +he'd die right off." + +Henry turned a look of silent pity on the boy, and left him in his +pleasing illusion. He wondered that Dr. Amboyne should have tacked this +biped on to him. + +They entered Cheetham's works, and Henry marched grimly into the office, +and showed Mr. Bayne his credentials. + +"Why, Little, you had no need of that." + +"Oh, it is as well to have no misunderstanding with your employer's +masters. I visit these works for my present employer, Dr. Amboyne, with +the consent of Mr. Cheetham, here written." + +"Very well, sir," said Bayne, obsequiously; "and I respectfully solicit +the honor of conducting our esteemed visitor." + +A young man's ill-humor could not stand against this. "Come along, old +fellow," said Henry. "I'm a bear, with a sore heart; but who could be +such a brute as quarrel with you? Let us begin with the chaps who drove +me out--the grinders. I'm hired to philanthropize 'em--d--n 'em." + +They went among the dry-grinders first; and Henry made the following +observations. The workman's hair and clothes were powdered with grit +and dust from the grindstones. The very air was impregnated with it, +and soon irritated his own lungs perceptibly. Here was early death, +by bronchitis and lung diseases, reduced to a certainty. But he +also learned from the men that the quantity of metal ground off +was prodigious, and entered their bodies they scarce knew how. A +razor-grinder showed him his shirt: it was a deep buff-color. "There, +sir," said he, "that was clean on yesterday. All the washerwomen in +Hillsbro' can't make a shirt of mine any other color but that." The +effect on life, health, and happiness was visible; a single glance +revealed rounded shoulders and narrow chests, caused partly by the +grinder's position on his horsing, a position very injurious to the +organs of breathing, and partly by the two devil's dusts that filled the +air; cadaverous faces, the muscles of which betrayed habitual suffering, +coughs short and dry, or with a frothy expectoration peculiar to the +trade. In answer to questions, many complained of a fearful tightness +across the chest, of inability to eat or to digest. One said it took him +five minutes to get up the factory stairs, and he had to lean against +the wall several times. + +A razor-grinder of twenty-two, with death in his face, told Henry he had +come into that room when he was eleven. "It soon takes hold of boys," +said he. "I've got what I shall never get shut on." + +Another, who looked ill, but not dying, received Henry's sympathy with a +terrible apathy. "I'm twenty-eight," said he; "and a fork-grinder is an +old cock at thirty. I must look to drop off my perch in a year or two, +like the rest." + +Only one, of all these victims, seemed to trouble his head about whether +death and disease could be averted. This one complained that some +employers provided fans to drive the dust from the grinder, but Cheetham +would not go to the expense. + +The rest that Henry spoke to accepted their fate doggedly. They were +ready to complain, but not to move a finger in self-defense. Their +fathers had been ground out young, and why not they? + +Indifferent to life, health, and happiness, they could nevertheless be +inflamed about sixpence a week. In other words, the money-price of their +labor was every thing to them, the blood-price nothing. + +Henry found this out, and it gave him a glimpse into the mind of +Amboyne. + +He felt quite confused, and began to waver between hate, contempt, and +pity. Was it really these poor doomed wretches who had robbed him of his +livelihood? Could men so miscalculate the size of things, as to strike +because an inoffensive individual was making complete caring-tools all +by himself, and yet not strike, nor even stipulate for fans, to carry +disease and death away from their own vitals? Why it seemed wasting +hate, to bestow it on these blind idiots. + +He went on to the wet-grinders, and he found their trade much healthier +than dry-grinding: yet there were drawbacks. They suffered from the grit +whenever a new stone was hung and raced. They were also subject to +a canker of the hands, and to colds, coughs, and inflammations, from +perspiration checked by cold draughts and drenched floors. These floors +were often of mud, and so the wet stagnated and chilled their feet, +while their bodies were very hot. Excellent recipe for filling graves. + +Here Bayne retired to his books, and Henry proceeded to the +saw-grinders, and entered their rooms with no little interest, for they +were an envied trade. They had been for many years governed by Grotait, +than whom no man in England saw clearer; though such men as Amboyne +saw further. Grotait, by a system of Machiavellian policy, ingeniously +devised and carried out, nobly, basely, craftily, forcibly, +benevolently, ruthlessly, whichever way best suited the particular +occasion, had built a model Union; and still, with unremitting zeal and +vigilance, contrived to keep numbers down and prices up--which is the +great Union problem. + +The work was hard, but it was done in a position favorable to the lungs, +and the men were healthy, brawny fellows; one or two were of remarkable +stature. + +Up to this moment Silly Billy had fully justified that title. He had +stuck to Henry's side like a dog, but with no more interest in the +inquiry than a calf, indeed, his wandering eye and vacant face had +indicated that his scanty wits were wool-gathering miles from the place +that contained his body. + +But, as soon as he entered the saw-grinders' room, his features lighted +up, and his eye kindled. He now took up a commanding position in the +center, and appeared to be listening keenly. And he had not listened +many seconds before he cried out, "There's the bad music! there! there!" +And he pointed to a grindstone that was turning and doing its work +exactly like the others. "Oh, the bad music!" cried Billy. "It is out of +tune. It says, 'Murder! murder! Out of tune!'" + +Henry thought it his duty to inspect the grindstone so vigorously +denounced, and, naturally enough, went in front of the grinder. But +Billy pulled him violently to the side. "You musn't stand there," said +he. "That is the way they fly when they break, and kill the poor father, +and then the mother lets down her hair, and the boy goes crazed." + +By this time the men were attracted by the Anomaly's gestures and +exclamations, and several left their work, and came round him. "What is +amiss, Billy? a flawed stone, eh? which is it?" + +"Here! here!" said the boy. "This is the wheel of death. Kill it, break +it, smash it, before it kills another father." + +Henry spoke to the grinder, and asked him if there was anything amiss +with the stone. + +The man seemed singularly uneasy at being spoken to: however he made +answer sullenly that he had seen better ones, and worse ones, and all. + +Henry was, however, aware, that the breaking of a large grindstone, +while revolving by steam power, was a serious, and often a fatal thing; +he therefore made a private mark upon the wall opposite the grindstone, +and took his excited companion to Bayne. "This poor lad says he has +found a defective grindstone. It is impossible for me to test it while +it is running. Will you let us into the works when the saw-grinders have +left?" + +Bayne hem'd and haw'd a little, but consented. He would remain behind +half an-hour to oblige Little. + +Henry gave the Anomaly his dinner, and then inspected the file-cutters +in two great works. Here he found suicide reduced to a system. Whereof +anon. + +Returning, to keep his appointment with Bayne he met a well-dressed man, +who stopped Billy, and accosted him kindly. + +Henry strolled on. + +He heard their voices behind him all the way, and the man stopped at +Cheetham's gate, which rather surprised him. "Has Billy told you what we +are at?" said he. + +"Yes. But the very look of him was enough. I know Billy and his ways, +better than you do." + +"Very likely. What, are you coming in with us?" + +"If you have no objection." + +The door was opened by Bayne in person. He started at the sight of the +companion his friend had picked up, and asked him, with marked civility, +if there was anything amiss. "Not that I know of," was the reply. "I +merely thought that my experience might be of some little service to you +in an inquiry of this kind." + +"Not a doubt of it, sir," said Bayne, and led the way with his lantern, +for it was past sunset. On the road, the visitor asked if anybody had +marked the accused stone. Henry said he should know it again. "That is +right," said the other. + +On entering the room, this personage took Billy by the arm, and held +him. "Let us have no false alarms," he said, and blindfolded the boy +with his handkerchief in a moment. + +And now an examination commenced, which the time and the place rendered +curious and striking. + +It was a long, lofty room; the back part mainly occupied by the drums +that were turned by the driving-power. The power was on the floor above, +and acted by means of huge bands that came down through holes in the +ceiling and turned the drums. From each of these drums came two leather +bands, each of which turned a pulley-wheel, and each pulley-wheel a +grindstone, to whose axle it was attached; but now the grindstones +rested in the troughs, and the great wheel-bands hung limp, and the +other bands lay along loose and serpentine. In the dim light of a single +lamp, it all looked like a gigantic polypus with its limbs extended +lazily, and its fingers holding semi-circular claws: for of the +grindstones less than half is visible. + +Billy was a timid creature, and this blindfolding business rather scared +him: he had almost to be dragged within reach of these gaunt antennae. +But each time they got him to touch a grindstone, his body changed its +character from shrinking and doubtful, to erect and energetic, and he +applied his test. This boy carried with him, night and day, a little +wooden hammer, like an auctioneer's, and with this he now tapped each +stone several times, searching for the one he had denounced: and, at +each experiment, he begged the others to keep away from him and leave +him alone with the subject of his experiment; which they did, and held +up the lamp and threw the light on him. + +Six heavy grindstones he tapped, and approved, three he even praised and +called "good music." + +The seventh he struck twice, first gently, then hard and drew back from +it, screaming "Oh, the bad music! Oh, the wheel of death!" and tried to +tear the handkerchief from his eyes. + +"Be quiet, Billy," said the visitor, calmly; and, putting his arm round +the boy's neck, drew him to his side, and detached the handkerchief, all +in a certain paternal way that seemed to betoken a kindly disposition. +But, whilst he was doing this, he said to Henry, "Now--you marked a +stone in daylight; which was it?" + +"No, no, I didn't mark the stone, but I wrote on the wall just opposite. +Lend us the light, Bayne. By George! here is my mark right opposite this +stone." + +"Then Billy's right. Well done, Billy." He put his hand in his pocket +and gave him a new shilling. He then inquired of Bayne, with the air of +a pupil seeking advice from a master, whether this discovery ought not +to be acted upon. + +"What would you suggest, sir?" asked Bayne, with equal deference. + +"Oh, if I was sure I should not be considered presumptuous in offering +my advice, I would say, Turn the stone into the yard, and bang a new +one. You have got three excellent ones outside; from Buckhurst quarry, +by the look of them." + +"It shall be done, sir." + +This effective co-operation, on the part of a stranger, was naturally +gratifying to Henry, and he said to him: "I should be glad to ask you a +question. You seem to know a good deal about this trade--" + +A low chuckle burst out of Bayne, but he instantly suppressed it, for +fear of giving offense-- + +"Are serious accidents really common with these grindstones?" + +"No, no," said Bayne, "not common. Heaven forbid." + +"They are not common--in the newspapers," replied the other. "But" (to +Bayne), "will you permit me to light these two gaslights for a moment?" + +"Well, sir, it is contrary to our rules,--but--" + +"All the more obliging of you," said the visitor, coolly, and lighted +them, with his own match, in a twinkling. He then drew out of his +waistcoat pocket a double eyeglass, gold-mounted, and examining the +ceiling with it, soon directed Henry's attention to two deep dents and +a brown splash. "Every one of those marks," said he, "is a history, and +was written by a flying grindstone. Where you see the dents the stone +struck the ceiling;" he added very gravely, "and, when it came down +again, ask yourself, did it ALWAYS fall right? These histories are +written only on the ceiling and the walls. The floor could tell its +tales too; but a crushed workman is soon swept off it, and the wheels go +on again." + +"That is too true," said Henry. "And it does a chap's heart good to hear +a gentleman like you--" + +"I'm not a gentleman. I'm an old Saw." + +"Excuse me, sir, you look like a gentleman, and talk like one." + +"And I try to conduct myself like one: but I AM an old Saw." + +"What! and carry a gold eyeglass?" + +"The Trade gave it me. I'm an old Saw." + +"Well, then, all the better, for you can tell me, and please do: have +you ever actually known fatal accidents from this cause?" + +"I have known the light grinders very much shaken by a breaking stone, +and away from work a month after it. And, working among saw-grinders, +who use heavy stones, and stand over them in working, I've seen--Billy, +go and look at thy shilling, in the yard, and see which is brightest, it +or the moon. Is he gone? I've seen three men die within a few yards of +me. One, the stone flew in two pieces; a fragment, weighing about four +hundredweight I should say, struck him on the breast, and killed him on +place; he never spoke. I've forgotten his very name. Another; the stone +went clean out of window, but it kicked the grinder backward among the +machinery, and his head was crushed like an eggshell. But the worst of +all was poor Billy's father. He had been warned against his stone; but +he said he would run it out. Well, his little boy, that is Billy, had +just brought him in his tea, and was standing beside him, when the stone +went like a pistol-shot, and snapped the horsing chains like a thread; a +piece struck the wall, and did no harm, only made a hole; but the bigger +half went clean up to the ceiling, and then fell plump down again; the +grinder he was knocked stupid like, and had fallen forward on his +broken horsing; the grindstone fell right on him, and, ah--I saw the son +covered with the father's blood." + +He shuddered visibly, at the recollection. "Ay," said he, "the man a +corpse, and the lad an idiot. One faulty stone did that, within four +yards of me, in a moment of time." + +"Good heavens!" + +"I was grinding at the next stone but one. He was taken, and I was left. +It might just as well have been the other way. No saw-grinder can make +sure, when he gets on his horsing, that he will come off it alive." + +The visitor left Henry to think of this while he drew Bayne aside, and +spoke on another matter. + +Afterward, all three left the works together; and Henry was so pleased +with his new ally, that he told him, at the gate, he should be glad if +he might be allowed to make his acquaintance. + +"By all means," said the other. "I am quite at your service. You will +find me at the 'Cutlers' Arms.'" + +"Who shall I ask for?" + +"George Grotait." + +"Grotait. The devil!" + +"No, no. Not quite so bad as that." + +"What," said Henry, roughly, "do you mean to say you are old Smitem?" + +"That is a name FOOLS give me." + +Henry had no reply ready, and so the sturdy old secretary got the better +of him again, and went his way unruffled. + +Henry scolded Bayne for not telling him. Bayne excused himself on the +ground that he thought everybody knew Grotait. He added, "He knew you, +and told me if he could serve you, without being unjust to the Trades, I +was to tell him." + +Henry replied to this only by a snort of defiance, and bade him +good-night. + +The next day and the next were spent in other works, and then Henry, +having no more facts to learn, fell into deep dejection again. He saw +he must either cheat Dr. Amboyne, by shamming work, or else must leave +Hillsborough. + +He had the honesty to go to the doctor and say that he had mastered +the whole matter, and didn't see his way to take any more wages from a +friend. + +"You mean you have mastered the broad facts." + +"I have, sir, and they are beyond belief; especially the file-cutters. +They are the most numerous of all the Trades, and die like sheep. If +your notion about Life, Labor, and Capital is right, the Trades are +upside down; for the deadliest are the worst paid." + +"And are you prepared with the remedies?" + +"Not I." + +"Yet you fancy you are at the end of your work. Why, you are only +beginning. Now comes the real brain work; invention. Now are craniology +and you upon your trial. But you are quite right about weekly salary. +Invention must not be so degraded, but paid by the piece. Life, Labor, +and Capital are upside down in this place, are they? Then you shall be +the man to set them on their legs." + +Henry shook his head. "Never, sir, unless I could give the masters +bowels, and the men brains." + +"Well, and why not? To invention all things are possible. You carry a +note-book?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Got it in your pocket?" + +"No; on my shoulders." + +"Haw! haw! haw! Then write this down in it--'THERE'S A KEY TO EVERY +LOCK'" + +"It's down, sir." + +"Now you must go out trout-fishing with Billy. He will take you on +the hills, where the air is pure, and favorable to invention. You will +divert your mind from all external subjects, especially Billy, who is +a fool, and his trout-killing inhumane, and I a merciless glutton for +eating them; and you will think, and think, and think, and forge the +required key to this lock with three wards--Life, Labor, Capital. And, +when forged, the Philanthropic Society shall pay you a good price for +it. Meantime, don't dream of leaving Hillsborough, or I shall give you a +stirrup-cup that will waft you much further than London; for it shall be +'of prussic acid all composed,' or 'juice of cursed Hebenon in a vial.' +Come, away with you." + +"Good-by, doctor. God bless you. You have found 'the key to my heart' +somehow. I come to you a miserable broken-hearted dog, and you put life +and hope into me directly. I declare talking with you it's like drinking +sunshine. I'll try all I know to please you." + +He went down the street with his old elastic tread, and muttered to +himself, "There's no lock without a key." + +Next day he went out on the hills with Billy, and saw him tickle trout, +and catch them under stones, and do many strange things, and all the +time he thought of Grace Carden, and bemoaned his sad fate. He could not +command his mind, and direct it to philanthropy. His heart would not let +him, and his personal wrongs were too recent. After a short struggle, +these got so thoroughly the better, that he found himself stealing the +doctor's words for his own purposes. "No lock without a key." Then there +must be some way of outwitting these cursed Trades, and so making money +enough to set up as a master, and then court her, and woo her, and marry +her. Heaven seemed to open on him at this prospect, and he fell into +a deep reverie. By-and-by, as he pondered, it seemed to him as if the +shadow of a coming idea was projected in advance of the idea itself. +He knew somehow there was a way to baffle his enemies, and resume his +business, and yet he could not see the way; but still he was absolutely +conscious it existed. + +This conviction took such hold of him, that he became restless, and +asked Billy to leave off and come away. The youth consented, and they +returned to the town with a basket of trout. Henry sent Billy on to the +doctor with half of them, and took the other half to his friend Bayne. + +On what a trifle things turn. Bayne was very much pleased with his +little attention, and asked him to take them to his lodging, and beg +the landlady to cook them for dinner. "Tell her you dine with me, old +fellow." + +"Oh, hang it, I wasn't fishing for a dinner." + +"As if I didn't know that. But you must. Then I shall enjoy your company +in peace. I shall be there in an hour." + +And so he was: but in that one hour events had occurred that I shall +leave Mr. Bayne to relate. + +During dinner neither of the friends wasted much time in talk; but +after dinner, Bayne produced a bottle of port, notwithstanding Henry's +remonstrances at being treated like a stranger, and it soon became +apparent that the host himself was not in the habit of drinking that +generous mixture every day. At the second glass he so far forgot himself +as to utter the phrase "Eternal friendship," and, soon after, he began +to writhe in his chair, and, at last, could no longer refrain himself, +but told Henry that Miss Carden had been canvassing customers. She had +just sent in six orders for sets of carving-tools, all for friends of +her own. + +Henry colored to the temples at this unexpected proof that she he loved +thought of him too. + +"Oh, Bayne," cried the poor young man, almost choking, "I little +thought--God bless her!" + +"Let us drink her health," said Bayne, excitedly. + +"Ah, that I will!" and this was the first glass Henry drank honestly. + +"Now, Little, I'm not doing quite right, you know; but I MUST tell you. +When we lost you--you know that set of tools the Union dropped in our +yard--well, he sent them to London for yours." + +"That is just like him," said Henry, bitterly. + +"And I'll tell you a good joke; they were in the place when you called, +only not unpacked till just before I came away. Returned, sir! with a +severe reprimand. 'Wonder you should send us such things as these for +carving-tools by Little. If the error is not repaired shall consider +ourselves at liberty to communicate direct with that workman.' A regular +sugar-plum." + +"Oh, thank you, my kind friend, for telling me. The world isn't all +bitterness, after all: a poor fellow gets a sweet drop of friendship now +and then." + +"Yes, and a good drop of port now and then, though I say it that +shouldn't. Fill up. Well, my boy, Cheetham is in a fine way. I left him +walking about the office like a hyena. So now is your time. You can't +fight the Trades; but, if Cheetham will go in with you, and I know he +will, for he is sorer than you are, you can trick the Trades yet." + +"Ah! tell me how, that is all." + +"Oh, I can't tell you exactly. I'll try, though. I say, what a glorious +thing the Ruby is: it inspires us, and fires us, et cetera, and gives +us ideas beyond our sphere. Did you ever see one of these new portable +forges?" + +"No; never heard of them." + +"No wonder; they are just out. Well, buy one of them--they were invented +here--and carry it to some dismal cavern, where the foot of man never +treads: make Cheetham grind your blades in another county: and who will +ever know? Go to him, and don't say a word, but just ask him for your +month's salary. Then he will open the door of business himself--safe. +I'll drink his health. He's not a bad sort, Cheetham: only he'd sell his +soul for money. I hate such rubbish. Here's 'Perdition to the lot; and +no heel-taps.'" + +These words of fire set Henry pondering deeply; and, as he pondered, +Bayne stuck to the port, and so effectually, that, at last, after an +interval of silence, he came out in a new character. He disturbed his +companion's reverie by informing him, in a loud, aggressive tone, that +it had long been his secret wish to encounter the Hillsborough Trades, +in the persons of their secretaries, under the following conditions: a +twenty-four feet ring, an experienced referee, and a kingdom looking +on. As to the order of the pugilistic events, he was not unreasonably +fastidious; must stipulate to begin with old Smitem; but, after that, +they might encounter their fate in any order they chose, one down +t'other come on. He let him know that this ardent desire for single +combats, in an interminable series, arose from their treatment of his +friend--"the best friend--the best heart--oh!--the best company--oh! +oh!--the best--oh! oh! oh!" Whereupon he wept, the bellicose Bayne. And, +after weeping the usual quantity, he twaddled, and, after twaddling, he +became as pacific as ever, for he went to sleep in his chair. + +And, while he snoozed, the words he had uttered set his friend's brain +boiling and bubbling. + +When the time came at which Bayne ought to return to the works, Henry +called the landlady, and said, "Mr. Bayne is not very well. I am going +to make his excuses. I wouldn't disturb him till five, if I was you, and +then I'd give him a strong cup of tea." + +Henry then went direct to the office, and found Mr. Cheetham there. + +"Well?" said Mr. Cheetham, rather surlily. + +"I am come to ask for my month, sir." + +"So I guessed. Do you really mean to exact that?" + +"Why not, sir?" + +"Haven't you heard how they ground me down?" + +"Yes, sir. But why did you give in? I was true to you, but you failed +me. I'd have shut up the works for three months, rather than be made a +slave of, and go from my word." + +"Ay, ay; that's bachelor's talk. I've got a wife and children, and they +make a man a mouse." + +"Well, sir, I forgive you: but as to my month's wages--now all I say +is--PUT YOURSELF IN MY PLACE!" + +"Well?" + +"You are me. You are brought from London, under an agreement, a +month's notice on either side. You work, and give satisfaction. You are +threatened, but you don't run from your employer. You are blown up, +and nearly killed. You lose a fortnight, but you don't charge for it; +'twasn't your employer's fault. You come back to him, and face the music +again. You work with the sword hanging over you. But your employer gives +in, and sacks you in a minute. Oughtn't you to have your month? Come +now, man to man, oughtn't you?" + +"I ought, and that's the truth. I didn't look at it that way. I saw +my own side. There--no more about it--I'll draw the check--with a good +heart." + +He drew his check-book to him, with a face as if vultures were tearing +his vitals. + +When Henry found him Amboynable, and saw his piteous look, he felt a +little softened toward him, and he said, very impressively, "Wait one +moment, sir, I've got an idea. I'm not the sort that likes to be beat. +Are YOU?" The men looked steadily at each other. + +Cheetham lowered his voice. "I've had hell inside me ever since. I +thought I was a man, but they made a mouse of me. If you know any way to +beat them, I'll go in with you." + +"Well, sir, there is a key to every lock." + +"That is well said, and I believe it; but one can't always find the +key." + +"I almost think I have, sir." + +"See nobody is listening. Where is Bayne? He is due." + +"Oh, he is not very well, sir; and I was to ask you for an hour's +absence." + +"Let him have the whole afternoon. I'll not have a soul in this but us +two. Now come close, and tell me." + +They sat opposite each other, and put their heads together over the +table, and the following dialogue passed almost in a whisper. To see +them, you would have thought they were conspiring against the law, +instead of combining to hide a lawful act from the violaters of the law. + +"I can forge the blades a dozen miles from Hillsborough." + +"Not you; you will be told of. That won't do." + +"I shall not be told of; for nobody will know but you. I shall only +forge at night; and the building is out of the world, and wedged in, out +of sight, between two bleak hills. Sir, it is a deserted church." + +"What, forge blades in a church?" + +"A deserted church; why not?" + +"Little, you are A 1. Go on." + +"I can get the blades ground by a friend at Birmingham; and my mother +and I can put them together at home. The complete articles will come to +you in parcels of a certain colored paper, invoiced in cipher outside, +so that they need not be opened; you can trust the invoice, and dispatch +them to your London agent." + +"All right." + +"The steel you must supply me at the current price, and charge it +against me." + +"Certainly. But your price per gross? For this work can't be done by +time." + +"Of course not." And Henry named a price per gross at which Cheetham +lifted up his hands. "Why, you'll take nine pounds a week at that!" + +"Ay, and more," said Henry, coolly. "But I sha'n't make it. Why, this +scheme entails no end of expenses. A house, and stables with back +entrance. A swift horse, to gallop to the forge at sunset, and back +by noon. A cart to take the things to the railway and back, and to the +parcel delivery for you. And, besides that, I must risk my neck, riding +over broken ground at night: and working night and day shortens life. +You can't reduce these things to Labor and Capital. It's Life, Labor, +and Capital." + +"Hallo! There's a new cry. I tell ye what; you know too much for me. You +read the Beehive. I take you at your price." + +Then he had a misgiving. "That old Smitem's as crafty as a fox. If he +finds you stay here, with no visible employment, he will soon be down on +us." + +"Ay; but in the day-time I shall appear as a carver of wood, and also an +inspector of factories for Dr. Amboyne. Who will suspect me of a night +trade, as well as two day trades?" + +Cheetham slapped the table triumphantly: but, recovering his caution, he +whispered, "It's planned first-rate." + +"And now, sir, there is one difficulty you must help me in, if you +please. It is to set up the forge unobserved." + +"What, am I to find the forge?" + +"There's a question, sir! Of course you are. One of these new portable +forges." + +Cheetham reflected for some little time. He then said it was a ticklish +thing, and he saw but one way. "The forge must come here, after closing +hours, and you and I must fetch it away in the dead of night, and take +it down to the old church, and set it up." + +"Well, but, sir, we shall want assistance." + +"Nay, nay. I've got the last suit of moleskin I ever worked in laid +away. I'll air 'em, and put 'em on again; and, when I've got em on once +more, I shall feel a man again. I'll have neither fool nor spy in it: +the thing is too serious. I might bring some country fellow, that can't +read or write; but no, these portables are small things, and I'm one of +the strongest men in Hillsborough. Best keep it to ourselves. When is it +to be?" + +"Say next Wednesday, two hours after midnight." + +"Then that is settled. And now I'll square the old account agreed." He +drew his check-book toward him again. + +But Henry slopped him. "Fair play's a jewel," said he smiling. "The +moment you sacked me--" + +"Say the Trades, not me." + +"Dr. Amboyne hired me, at six guineas a week, to inspect the works. So +you owe me nothing; but to be true to me." + +This trait, though it was one of simple probity, astonished and +gratified Mr. Cheetham. He looked on the young man with marked respect. +"You are hard; but you are very square. I'll be true as steel to you, +and we'll outwit our tyrants together, till I get a chance to put my +foot on them. Yes, I'll be open with you; there are plenty of orders +from London and the Continent, and one for six sets from swells in +Hillsborough." + +"Might I see that order?" + +"Why not? There, run your eye over it. I want to go into the +packing-room for a minute." + +He then tossed Henry the order, as if it was nothing more than an order. + +But it was a great deal more than that to Henry. It was Grace Carden's +handwriting, the first specimen he had ever seen. + +He took the paper in his hand, and a slight perfume came from it that +went to his heart. He devoured the delicately formed letters, and they +went to his heart too: he thrilled all over. And the words were as +like her as the perfume. She gave the order, and the addresses of her +friends, with a pretty little attempt at the businesslike; but, this +done, she burst out, "and we all entreat you to be good to poor Mr. +Little, and protect him against the wicked, cruel, abominable Unions." + +These sweet words made his heart beat violently, and brought the tears +of tenderness into his eyes. He kissed the words again and again. He put +them into his bosom, and took them out again, and gloated over them till +they danced before his manly eyes. Then his love took another turn: he +started up, and marched and strutted, like a young stag, about the +room, with one hand pressing the paper to his bosom. Why had he said +Wednesday? It could all have been got ready on Tuesday. No matter, he +would make up for that lost day. He was on the road, once more, the road +to fortune, and to her. + +Cheetham came in, and found him walking excitedly, with the paper in his +hand, and of course took the vulgar view of his emotion. + +"Ay, lad," said he, "and they are all swells, I promise you. There's +Miss Laura Craske. That's the mayor's daughter. Lady Betty Tyrone. She's +a visitor. Miss Castleton! Her father is the county member." + +"And who is this Mr. Coventry?" asked Henry. + +"Oh, he is a landed gentleman, but spends his tin in Hillsborough; and +you can't blame him. Mr. Coventry? Why, that is Miss Carden's intended." + +"Her intended!" gasped Henry. + +"I mean her beau. The gentleman she is going to marry, they say." + +Henry Little turned cold, and a tremor ran through him; but he did not +speak a word; and, with Spartan fortitude, suppressed all outward sign +of emotion. He laid the paper down patiently, and went slowly away. + +Loyal to his friend even in this bitter moment, he called at Bayne's +place and left word with the landlady that Mr. Bayne was not wanted at +the works any more that day. + +But he could not bear to talk to Bayne about his plans. They had lost +their relish. He walked listlessly away, and thought it all over. + +For the first time he saw his infatuation clearly. Was ever folly like +his? If she had been a girl in humble life, would he not have asked +whether she had a sweetheart? Yet he must go and give his heart to a +lady without inquiry. There, where wisdom and prudence were most needed, +he had speculated like an idiot. He saw it, and said to himself, "I have +acted like a boy playing at pitch-farthing, not like a man who knew the +value of his heart." + +And so he passed a miserable time, bemoaning the treasure that was now +quite inaccessible instead of nearly, and the treasure of his own heart +he had thrown away. + +He awoke with a sense of misery and deep depression, and could not eat; +and that was a novelty in his young and healthy life. He drank a cup of +tea, however, and then went out, to avoid his mother's tender looks of +anxious inquiry. He meant to tell her all one day; but to-day he was +not strong enough. He must wait till he was cured; for cured he must be, +cured he would be. + +He now tried to give his mind to the task Amboyne had set him; but it +was too hard: he gave it up, with rage and despair. + +Then he made a desperate resolve, which will not surprise those who +know the human heart. He would harden himself. He would see more of Miss +Carden than ever; only it should be in quite a new light. He would look +at her, and keep saying to himself all the time, "You are another man's +wife." + +With this determination, he called at "Woodbine Villa." + +Miss Carden was not at home. + +"Are you sure she is not at home?" + +"Not at home," replied the man stiffly. + +"But you needn't to keep him at the door," said a mellow female voice. + +"No, miss," said the man, with a sudden change of manner, for he was a +desperate and forlorn admirer of the last speaker. "Come in, sir." And +he ushered him in to Jael Dence. She was in her bonnet, and just going +out. They shook hands, and she told him Miss Carden was out walking. + +"Walking with her beau?" said Henry, affecting a jaunty air, but sick +within. + +"That's more than I can say," replied Jael. + +"You know nothing about it, of course," said Henry, roughly. + +Jael looked surprised at the uncalled-for tone, and turned a mild glance +of inquiry and reproach upon him. + +The young man was ashamed of himself, and at that moment, too, he +remembered he had already been rather ungrateful to her. So, to make +amends, he said, "Didn't I promise to take you to Cairnhope?" + +"Ay," said Jael; and she beamed and blushed in a moment. + +"Well, I must go there, Sunday at the latest. So I will come for you, if +you like. Will you be ready at ten o'clock?" + +"Yes." + +"I'll bring a gig, and take you like a lady." + +"Anyway you please. I'd as lieve walk as ride." + +"I prefer riding. Ten o'clock, the day after to-morrow. Good-by." + +And he hurried away, provoked, not pleased, at the manifest pleasure he +had given. The woman he loved--inaccessible! The woman he only liked--he +could spend the whole day with her. So the reasonable youth was cross +with her for that, and for being so pleased, when he was wretched. + +That feeling soon wore off, however, and, being a man of business, +he wrote a line to Martha Dence, and told her he should visit her on +Sunday. He added, with a gleam of good-humor, "and look out, for I shall +bring my lass," intending to give them all an agreeable surprise; for +Jael, he knew, was an immense favorite. + +Next day he went on the hills with Billy, and, instead of thinking for +the benefit of his enemies, as agreed with Amboyne, he set himself to +hate every body, especially Miss Carden's lover, and the Hillsborough +Unions. The grinders and file-cutters might die like sheep. What did he +care? As much as they cared for him. Dr. Amboyne was too good for this +world, and should keep his money to himself. He (Henry Little) would +earn none of it, would take none of it. What invention he had should all +go to outwit the Trades, and turn that old ruffian's church into his own +smithy. This double master-stroke, by which he was to defeat one enemy, +and secretly affront another, did make him chuckle one or twice, not +with joy, but with bitterness. + +He awoke in a similar mood next morning: but there was eight o'clock +service near, and the silver-toned bell awakened better thoughts. He +dressed hurriedly, and went to church. + +He came back sadder, but rather less hot, less bitter: he had his +breakfast, improved his toilet, went to the livery stable, and drove to +"Woodbine Villa." + +Mr. and Miss Carden had just finished breakfast, when he drove up to the +door. + +"Who is this?" said Mr. Carden. + +"What, have you forgotten Mr. Little?" + +"Indeed! Why, how he is dressed. I took him for a gentleman." + +"You were not very far wrong, papa. He is a gentleman at heart." + +Jael came in equipped for the ride. She was neatly dressed, and had a +plain shepherd's-plaid shawl, that suited her noble bust. She looked a +picture of health and happiness. + +"If you please, miss, he is come to take me to Cairnhope." + +"Oh! is it for that? And I declare you expected him, too." + +"Yes," said Jael, and blushed. + +"You never told me," said Grace, with a light touch of asperity. + +"I didn't feel very sure he would keep his word." + +"Then you don't know him as well as I do." + +"I haven't the chance. He speaks a deal more to you than he do to me." + +"Well, Jael, you needn't snub me, because you are going with Mr. +Little." + +As a bone, put between two friendly dogs, causes a growl, so when a +handsome young man enters on the scene, I have seen young women lose a +little of that unmitigated sweetness which marked them a moment before. + +With Grace, however, to snap and to repent generally followed in +a breath. "I hope you will have a happy day, dear, as happy as you +deserve." She then went to kiss her, but gave her cheek, instead of +her lips. "There," said she, in rather a flurried way, "don't keep Mr. +Little waiting." + +Just as they drove off, Grace came to the window, after a slight +irresolution, and kissed her hand to them enchantingly; at which a +sudden flood of rapture rushed through Little's heart, and flushed his +cheek, and fired his dark eye; Grace caught its flash full in hers, and +instinctively retired a step. They were off. + +"How bright and happy they look," said she to her father. And no wonder. + +She sat down, and, somehow, she felt singularly dull and lonely. + +Then she dressed for church, languidly. Then she went to church. +By-and-by she came back from church. + +Then she sat down, in her bonnet, and felt alone in the world, and +sad; and at last she found herself quietly crying, as young ladies will +sometimes, without any visible cause. + +Then she asked herself what on earth she was crying about, and herself +told her she was a little hysterical fool, and wanted a good beating. + +Then she plucked up spirit, and dried her eyes. Then she took to +yawning, and said Sunday was a dull day, and life itself rather a +wearisome thing. + +Then a servant came to inquire if she was at home. + +"What, on Sunday? Of course not. Who is it?" + +"Mr. Coventry, miss." + +"I am at home." + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + +People that met Jael Dence and Henry Little driving to Cairnhope +were struck with their faces; his so dark, hers so fair, and both so +handsome: but the woman's lit up with lively delight, the man's clouded +and sorrowful, and his brow knit with care. This very day he must take +the lock off Cairnhope old church, in spite of his Uncle Raby. He had +got the requisite tools with him hidden in the gig; but, even should +he succeed, it was but the first step of a difficult and, perhaps, +dangerous enterprise; and he was entering on it all with a heart no +longer buoyed by hopeful love. But for his pledge to Mr. Cheetham he +could hardly have persisted in the struggle. + +As for Jael Dence, she had no great reason to be happy either: the man +she loved loved another. Still he was kind to HER, and they belonged to +the same class; she had a chance, and gleams of hope. And, after all, +the future was uncertain, but the present certain: she had him to +herself for the day. She was close to him--so close, that she could feel +him--and he was driving her out, and to those who loved her: she basked +in the present delight, and looked as if she was being taken to heaven +by an angel, instead of driving to Cairnhope by a gloomy young man, whom +the passers-by envied, and wondered at his good luck in having such a +companion. She talked to him, and got the short answers of an absent +man. But she continued to make her little remarks occasionally, and, ere +they reached Cairnhope, he found himself somehow soothed by her sex, her +beauty, and her mellow, kindly voice. + +As they drove up to the farm-house, he told her to hide her face a +moment, for they didn't know who it was. + +Martha ran out. "Y'are welcome, y'are welcome; and so is your--Eh! Why +it's our Jael. 'Tis no avail to hide thy face, thou jade; I know every +bit o' thee." And Patty had her out of the gig in a moment, and there +was a cuddling match it did one good to see. + +Henry perked up for a moment and offered a suggestion. "Some of that +ought to come my way, for bringing her here." + +"Oh, you'll get enough o' that fun before you die," said Patty. "Now +come you in; the carter's boy will take the horse." + +They went in and greeted the old farmer; and soon the bell began to ring +for church, and Nathan Dence told Martha to put on her bonnet. + +"La, father!" said she, piteously. + +"She prefers to stay at home and chat with Jael," said Henry. The fact +is, he wanted to be rid of them both. + +Old Dence shook his head. He was one of those simple, grand, old rustic +Christians, who have somehow picked out the marrow of religion, and left +the devil the bone, yclept theology. "What?" said he, "my lasses! can't +ye spare God a slice out of his own day?" + +"Nay, it is not that, father." + +The old man continued his remonstrance. "To be sure our Jael is a +cordial. But she'll dine and sup with us. Take my word for 't, all +lawful pleasures are sweeter on the Lord's day after a bit o' church." + +"And so they are, father; but dear heart! to think of you forgetting. +Will nobody tell him? They're sworn to give me a red face, Jael and +all." + +This piteous appeal set Jael's wits working. "Eh, father, it will be the +first of her bans!" + +"Is it me you are asking such a question?" cried Patty, and turned her +head away with absurd mock-modesty. + +"And so 'tis," said Dence; "ah, that is a different thing." + +Henry thought that was no reason for Patty's staying at home; she ought +rather to go and hear the bans were cried all right. + +At this proposal both sisters lifted up their hands, and he was +remonstrated with, and lectured, and at last informed that, if a girl +was in church when her bans were cried, her children would be all born +deaf and dumb. + +"Oh, indeed!" said Little, satirically. "That's a fact in natural +history I was not aware of. Well, farmer, then let's you and I go by +ourselves." + +So Patty stayed at home, in obedience to rural superstition, and Jael +stayed to keep her company, and Farmer Dence went to church out of +piety; and as for Henry, to tell the truth, he went to church to escape +the girls' tongues, and to be in a quiet, somniferous place, where he +could think out his plans undisturbed. + +The men were no sooner gone than the sisters began to gossip hard. + +"Eh, Jael, thou's gotten a prize." + +"Not as I know of." + +"I do adore a dark young man." + +"So do I; but this one is not mine." + +"I'll take his word before thine. Why, he calls thee his lass in his +very letter." + +"Not he. Show me his letter." + +"What will ye give me?" + +"Nay, Patty, pray show it me." + +"Well, and so I will." + +She brought her the letter. Jael read it and changed color, and was +delighted for a moment or two; but soon her good sense and humility +prevailed. "'Twas to surprise you, like. I do know he looks higher than +me." + +"More fool he. But I don't believe it." + +"You may," said Jael, and turned the conversation to Patty's +approaching marriage; once launched in that direction, it flowed without +intermission till the men returned, and dinner smoked upon the board. + +After dinner Henry watched an opportunity, and slipped out into the +yard, got the tools out, put his great-coat over them, and away to +Cairnhope Church. He knew better than go past Raby Hall to it: he went +back toward Hillsborough, full three miles, and then turned off the road +and got on the heather. He skirted the base of a heathery mound, and at +last saw the church on an elevation before him, made for it incautiously +over some boggy ground, and sank in up to his waist. + +He extricated himself with considerable difficulty, and cast a woful +look at his clothes. + +Then he turned to, and piled up a heap of stones to mark the dangerous +spot; for he foresaw he must often travel that way in all weathers. At +last he reached the church, removed the lock, and fastened the door with +screws. He then went back to the farm as fast as he could. But all this +had taken a long time, and the sun was sinking as he got into the yard. +He was in the very act of concealing the lock in the gig, when Martha +Dence came out at him, as red as a turkey-cock. + +"You thought but little of my sister, young man, to leave her all these +hours, and you come out to spend the day with her." + +"Stuff and nonsense! I came out on my own business." + +"So it seems. And it have taken you into worse company. A fine figure +she has made you." + +"Who?" + +"The hussy you have been after this while." + +"That's so like you girls. You think a man has nothing to do but to run +after women." + +"What business can you have on the Sabbath-day, I'd like to know." + +"Would you? Well, I'll tell you--when I tell the bellman." + +"You are quite right, Mr. Little. Trust none but your friends." + +This was a bitter remark. Henry could not reply to it, and that moved +his bile. Patty pursued her advantage, and let him know that, when a +young man brought a young woman out for the day, he did not leave her +for three hours at a stretch, unless he meant to affront her. She raised +her voice in saying this, and so did he in replying, "Tell you I came +out on my own business, not Jael's; but I am a good-natured fellow, +considering all I endure, so I took that opportunity to bring your +sister out to see you. Could I guess you two couldn't make yourselves +happy for one afternoon without flirting? So much for sisterly +affection! Well, next time I'll come alone--if I come at all." + +Jael came out at the raised voices, and received this last sentence full +in the face. She turned pale. + +"Oh, Patty, Patty, what have you been saying?" + +"I've been speaking my mind, that is all." + +"Ay, and you've made him say the only unkind word I ever heard from his +lips." + +"I'm very sorry, Jael," said the young man, penitently. + +"Oh, then I'm to blame, because he is so ill-tempered." And Patty +bridled. + +"Partly. You should not interfere between friends." Having delivered +this admonition, Jael softened it by kissing her, and whispered, +"Father's asking for his tea." + +Patty went in as meek as Moses. + +Then Jael turned to Henry, and laid her hand on his arm, while her gray +eyes searched his face. + +"There's something amiss. You are never cross, except when you are +unhappy. What is it?" + +"Oh, Jael, my heart is broken. She is going to be married." + +"Who says so?" + +"Mr. Cheetham told me she was engaged to a Mr. Coventry." + +"What can Mr. Cheetham know? To be sure the gentleman is a good deal +with her, and I hear he has courted her this two years; and she likes +his company, that's certain. But she is used to be admired, and she is +very hard to please." + +"What, then, you think it is not quite hopeless?" + +"While there's life there's hope." + +"What had I better do?" + +"Nay, you shouldn't ask me." + +"Oh, yes: you advised me so wisely about the insurance." + +"Ay, but then I saw it clear. He is purse-proud, and I knew he'd think a +deal more of you if you insured your life for a vast o' money. But now I +don't see clear; and I'm loath to advise. Happen you'd hate me afterward +if it went wrong." + +"No, no, I wouldn't be so ungrateful." + +Jael shook her head, doubtfully. + +"Well, then," said Henry, "don't advise me; but put yourself in my +place. (I'll tell you a secret I daren't trust to Patty. I have found a +way to beat the Trades, and make my fortune in a year or two.) Now what +would you do, if you were me?" + +This question raised a tumult in Jael's heart. But her strong will, her +loyalty, and, above all, her patience, conquered, though not without +signs of the struggle, a bosom that heaved somewhat higher, and a +low voice that trembled a little. "If I was a young man, I wouldn't +shilly-shally, nor wait till I was rich, before I spoke. I'd have it out +with her. I'd get her alone, and tell her all. Then, if she showed +any sign of liking, I'd beg her to wait a bit, and say I'd soon be a +gentleman for her sake. And if she cares naught for you, better know it, +and leave her, than fare in heaven one hour and in hell the next, as I +have seen thee do this while, my poor lad." + +"It is wise and good advice, and I'll take it. I've kept all my courage +for the Trades; I'd better have shown her a little. But there's one +thing more I want to ask you." + +This was too much. Jael's courage and patience failed her for once. +"Keep it," she cried almost wildly. "I can't bear no more. There's not +one lass in a hundred would do what I have done for you: yet you want +more. D'ye think I'm not flesh and blood, as well as her?" + +And she began to cry bitterly. + +This took Henry quite by surprise, and grieved him. He consoled her, and +coaxed her, in vague terms, that did not produce any effect. So then he +kissed her cheek, and dried her eyes with his own handkerchief, and that +was not quite so ineffectual. She gave a final sob, and said, with some +slight remains of passion, "There, there; never heed me. It takes a deal +of patience to go through the world." And so she left him. + +He was not sorry to be alone a minute, and think. This short dialogue +with Jael gave him some insight into female character. It made him +suspect that he had been too timid with Grace Carden, and also that +there were two women in the game instead of one. + +When the time came to return he asked leave to borrow a horse-cloth. + +He aired it by the fire, and remarked that it had turned very cold. + +"Why," said Patty, "you have got your top-coat. Well, you are a soft +one." + +"And you are a sharp one," said Henry, ironically. + +When Jael came to the gig, Henry put the cloth over her shoulders. +"'Twasn't for me, ye see," said he: "'twas for my betters." + +"I like you for that," said Patty. + +Then there was much kissing, and shaking of hands, and promising to come +again, and away they drove to Hillsborough. + +On the road Henry, for the first time, was very respectful, as well as +kind, to Jael. She was soft and gentle, but rather silent and reserved. +They parted at the door of "Woodbine Villa." + +Next day, Henry called early, and found Miss Carden alone. His heart +beat tumultuously. She was very gracious, and hoped he had spent a +pleasant day yesterday. + +"Pretty well." + +"Is that all? Why I quite envied you your ride, and your companion." + +"She is a very good girl." + +"She is something more than that: but one does not find her out all at +once." + +Now it was Henry's turn. But he was flustered, and thinking how he +should begin. And, while he hesitated, the lady asked him was he come to +finish the bust. + +"No. I didn't come for that. I will finish it though." And thus he was +diverted from his purpose, for the moment. + +He took a carving tool, and eyed his model, but soon laid down the tool, +and said: "I haven't thanked you yet. And I don't know how to thank +you." + +"What for?" + +"For what you sent to Mr. Cheetham." + +"Oh!" said Grace, and blushed. Then she turned it off, and said she +thought if any body ought to thank her for that, it was Mr. Cheetham. + +"Ay, for the order. But the sweet words that came with it? Do you think +I don't prize them above all the orders in the world?" + +She colored high again. "What! did he show you my note?" + +"He did: and that has made me his friend. Shall I tell you the effect of +those words on me?" + +"No; never mind. But I'm glad I put them in, if they did you any good." + +"Any good? They made me a new man. I was defeated by the Trades: I was +broken-hearted: and I hated every body. Good Dr. Amboyne had set me work +to do; to save the lives of my fellow-creatures. But I couldn't; I hated +them so. The world had been too unjust to me, I could not return it good +for evil. My heart was full of rage and bitterness." + +"That's a great pity--at your age. But really it is no wonder. Yes; you +have been cruelly used." And the water stood in Grace's eyes. + +"Ay, but it is all over; those sweet words of yours made a man of me +again. They showed me you cared a little for me. Now I have found a +way to outwit the Trades. Now I'm on the road to fortune. I won't be a +workman this time next year. I'll be a master, and a thriving one." + +"Ay, do, do. Beat them, defeat them; make them scream with envy. But I +am afraid you are too sanguine." + +"No; I can do it, if you will only give me another word of hope to keep +me going; and oh, I need it, if you knew all." + +Grace began to look uneasy. "Mr. Little, can you doubt that you have +my best wishes?" said she, guardedly, and much less warmly than she had +spoken just before. + +"No, I don't doubt that; but what I fear is, that, when I have gained +the hard battle, and risen in the world, it will be too late. Too late." + +Grace turned more and more uncomfortable. + +"Oh, pray wait a few months, and see what I can do, before you--" + +Will it be believed that Mr. Carden, who seldom came into this room at +all, must walk in just at this moment, and interrupt them. He was too +occupied with his own affairs, to pay much attention to their faces, or +perhaps he might have asked himself why the young man was so pale, and +his daughter so red. + +"I heard you were here, Little, and I want to speak to you on a matter +of some importance." + +Grace took this opportunity, and made her escape from the room promptly. + +Henry, burning inwardly, had to listen politely to a matter he thought +pitiably unimportant compared with that which had been broken off. But +the "Gosshawk" had got him in its clutches; and was resolved to make +him a decoy duck. He was to open a new vein of Insurances. Workmen had +hitherto acted with great folly and imprudence in this respect, and he +was to cure them, by precept as well as example. + +Henry assented, to gratify a person whose good-will he might require, +and to get rid of a bore. But that was not so easy; the "Gosshawk" was +full of this new project, and had a great deal to say, before he came to +the point, and offered Henry a percentage on the yearly premium of every +workman that should be insured in the "Gosshawk." + +This little bargain struck, Henry was left alone; and waited for the +return of Miss Carden. + +He was simple enough to hope she would come back, and have it out with +him. + +She kept carefully out of his way, and, at last, he went sadly home. + +"Ah," said he, "Jael gave me bad advice. I have been premature, and +frightened her." + +He would go to work his own way again. + +In forty-eight hours he moved into his new house, furnished it partly: +bought a quantity of mediocre wood-carving, and improved it; put +specimens in his window, and painted his name over the door. This, at +his mother's request and tearful entreaties, he painted out again, and +substituted "Rowbotham." + +Nor was Rowbotham a mere nom de plume. It was the real name of Silly +Billy. The boy had some turn for carving, but was quite uncultivated: +Henry took him into his employ, fed him, and made free with his name. +With all this he found time to get a key made to fit the lock of +Cairnhope old Church. + +At one o'clock on Thursday morning he came to Cheetham's works, and +scratched at the gate. A big workman opened it. It turned out to be +Cheetham himself, in a moleskin suit, and a long beard. + +The forge on wheels was all ready, also a cart containing anvil, +bellows, hammers, pincers, leathern buckets, and a quantity of steel +laths. They attached the forge to the tail of the cart, and went on +their silent expedition. Cheetham drove the cart. Henry followed afar +off until they had cleared the suburbs. + +They passed "Woodbine Villa." A single light was burning. Henry eyed +it wistfully, and loitered long to look at it. Something told him +that light was in her bedroom. He could hardly tear himself away from +contemplating it: it was his pole-star. + +There was only one great difficulty in their way; a man on a horse might +cross the moor, but a cart must go by "Raby Hall" to reach the church: +and, before they got within a furlong of the Hall, a watch-dog began to +bark. + +"Stop, sir," whispered Henry. "I expected this." He then produced some +pieces of thick felt, and tied them with strings round the wheels. + +They then drove by the house as fast as they could. They did not deceive +the dogs; but no man heard them, nor saw them. + +They got to the church, opened the door, and drew the forge into the +deserted building. + +As soon as they got inside, Cheetham cast his eyes round and gave a +shudder. "You must have a stout heart: no money should tempt me to work +here by myself. Lord! What's that?" + +For a low musical moan was heard. + +Cheetham darted back, and got to the church-door. + +Henry's heart beast faster: but he lighted his lantern, and went up +the aisle. The place was solemn, grim, gaunt, and moldering, and echoed +strangely; but it was empty. He halloed to his companion that it was all +right. Then they set the forge up near a pillar at the entrance into the +chancel. When they had done this, and brought in the steel laths, the +sacks of coals, etc., Cheetham produced a flask, and took a pull of +neat brandy. This gave him courage, and he proposed to have a look round +before they went. Accordingly they inspected the building. + +When they came round to the chancel, suddenly there was a rattle, and a +tremendous rush of some huge thing that made a cold wind, and blew out +the light. + +Henry was appalled, and Cheetham dropped the lantern, and ran, yelling. +And soon Henry heard his voice in the churchyard calling on him to come +out. + +He did go out, and felt very much puzzled and alarmed. However, he got +matches from Cheetham, and went back, and lighted the lantern, quaking +a little, and then he found that the great moldering picture over the +altar had rotted away from some of its supports, and one half of it was +now drooping, like a monstrous wing, over the altar. + +He returned with the lantern, and told Cheetham what it was. Then +he screwed on the lock, locked the church, and they went back to +Hillsborough in good spirits. + +But, as he lay in bed, Henry thought the matter over, and, for the first +time in his life, felt superstitious. + +"It is very odd," he said, "that old picture my forefathers have +worshiped under, and prayed to, no doubt, should flap out in my face +like that, the moment I offered to set up my forge among their dead +bones." + +Daylight dispersed these superstitious feelings, and the battle began. + +As usual, the first step toward making money was to part with it. He +could do nothing without a horse and a light cart. In Hillsborough they +drive magnificent horses in public cabs: Henry knew one in particular, +that had often spun up the steepest hills with him; a brute of +prodigious bone and spirit. He bought this animal for a moderate price, +considering his value: and then the next thing was--and indeed with some +of us it precedes the purchase of the animal--to learn to ride. + +He had only two days to acquire this accomplishment in: so he took a +compendious method. He went to the circus, at noon, and asked to see +the clown. A gloomy fellow was fished out of the nearest public, and +inquired what he wanted. + +"The clown." + +"Well, I am the clown." + +"What! you the merry chap that makes the fun?" said Henry, +incredulously. + +"I make the fun at night," replied the man, dolefully. "If you want fun +out of me, come and pay your shilling, like a man." + +"But it isn't fun I'm come for. I want to learn to ride." + +"Then you are too old. Why, we begin as soon as we can stand on a +horse's back." + +"Oh, I don't mean to ride standing. I want to sit a horse, rearing, or +plunging, or blundering over rough ground." + +"What will you stand?" + +"A sovereign." + +The clown dived into the public-house, and told a dark seedy man, with +his black hair plastered and rolled effeminately, that he had got a +bloke who would stand a quid for a mount. The two came out, and the +plastered Italian went to the stables: the melancholy punster conducted +Henry into the arena, and stood beside him like Patience on a monument. +Presently a quiet mare ran in, and stuck. + +Henry was mounted, and cantered her round, the two men instinctively +following in a smaller circle, with jaws as long as your arm. + +"This is delightful," said Henry; "but I might as well be sitting in a +chair. What I want is a Prancer." + +Then they brought him another horse, just as docile as the mare. The +obedient creature, at a signal, reared suddenly, and seated Mr. Little +on the sawdust behind him. A similar result was attained several times, +by various means. But Henry showed himself so tough, courageous, and +persistent, that he made great progress, and his good-humor won his +preceptors. They invited him to come tomorrow, at an earlier hour, +and bring half a quid with him. He did so, and this time there was an +American rider rehearsing, who showed Henry what to do, and what not +to do; and gave him a most humorous and instructive lesson. Indeed, his +imitations of bad riding were so truthful and funny, that even the clown +was surprised into one laugh; he who rarely smiled, unless in the way of +business. + +"Well, sir," said Henry, "you have given me a good lesson; now take a +hint from me; just you go and do all this before the public; for I never +saw you do any thing half as droll." + +They all three shook their heads with one accord. Go out of the beaten +track, before an audience? Never. Such vagaries were only admissible in +private. + +After this second day the fee was reduced to a gallon of ale. + +But, on the third day, the pupil combined theory with practice. He told +his mother he was going to Cairnhope for the night. He then rode off to +Cairnhope Church. He had two large saddle-bags, containing provisions, +and tools of all sorts. He got safe across the moor just before sunset. +He entered the church, led the horse in with him, and put him into the +Squire's pew. He then struck a light, went into the chancel, and +looked at the picture. It was as he had left it; half on the wall, half +drooping over the altar-place. The walls were dank, and streaked here +and there with green. His footsteps echoed, and the edifice was all +dark, except within the rays of his lantern; it also sang and moaned in +a way to be accounted for by the action of the wind on a number of small +apertures; but, nevertheless, it was a most weird and ghostly sound. He +was glad of the companionship of his very horse. + +He took his buckets to the mountain stream, and, in due course, filled +his trough, and left one bucket full for other uses. He then prepared +and lighted his forge. As he plied the bellows, and the coals gleamed +brighter and brighter, monumental figures came out and glared at him; +mutilated inscriptions wavered on the walls; portions of the dark walls +themselves gleamed in the full light, and showed the streaks and stains +of age and weather, and the shadow of a gigantic horse's head; and, as +the illuminated part seemed on fire by contrast, so the dark part of +the church was horribly black and mysterious, and a place out of which +a ghost or phantom might be expected, at any moment, to come forth into +that brilliant patch of light. + +Young Little, who had entered on this business in all the skepticism of +the nineteenth century, felt awed, and began to wish he had selected +any other building in the world but this. He seemed to be desecrating a +tomb. + +However, he mustered up his manly resolution. He looked up at a small +aperture in the roof, and saw a star glittering above: it seemed close, +and a type of that omniscient eye "from which no secrets are hid." + +He clasped his hands together, and said, "I hope God, who has seen me +driven from the haunts of men, will forgive me for taking refuge here; +and, if he does, I don't care who else is offended, alive or dead." And, +with this, he drew the white-hot strip of steel from the forge on to the +anvil, and down came his hammer with a blow that sent the fiery steel +flying all round, and rang and echoed through the desolate building, +instantly there was a tremendous plunge and clatter, followed by a +shaking sound, and, whiz, the church was fanned by black wings going +zigzag. + +"Ten thousand devils!" yelled Henry, and heaved the hammer high, in his +own defense. + +But it was only the horse plunging and quivering with fear, and a score +of bats the blow of the hammer had frightened out of the rotten pulpit. + +He resumed work with a beating heart, and the building rang and echoed +and re-echoed with the rapid blows; and no more interruption came. The +nineteenth century conquered. + +After four hours of earnest work, he fed his horse, ate a slice of bread +and meat, drank water from the bucket, gave his horse some, and went to +sleep in a pew beside that useful animal. + +Back to Hillsborough, at peep of day, with the blades he had forged. + +He now took his mother, in a great measure, into his confidence, under +a strict promise to tell nobody, not even Dr. Amboyne. Mrs. Little +received the communication in a way that both surprised and encouraged +him. She was as willing to outwit the Unions, as she was willing to +resist them openly; and Henry found her an admirable coadjutor. + +Had she known where Henry had set up his forge, she would have been +very unhappy. But he merely told her it was in a secluded place, near +Cairnhope, where he could never be detected. + +The carving business, being merely a blind, was not pushed. But Henry +gave his apprentice, Billy, instruction, and the youth began to show an +aptitude which contrasted remarkably with his general incapacity. + +Mrs. Little paid one or two visits to factories, to see what women could +do in this sort of work; and, one day, she told Henry she was sure she +could sharpen and finish the blades. + +"No, mother," said Henry. "You are a lady. I can't have you made a slave +of, and your beautiful white hands spoiled." + +"I shall be happier, helping you, dear; and I won't spoil my hands, +since you care about them." + +She insisted on a trial, and soon acquired a remarkable knack: she had +a fine light hand: and it is an art easily learned by an attentive and +careful woman. Indeed they can beat the men at it, if they will only +make up their minds. + +And so the enterprise was launched, and conducted thus: in the day time, +Henry showed himself in the town, and talked big about carving; and, in +the afternoon, he rode out, and did the real work of his life, over the +dead bodies of his ancestors. + +His saddle-bags were always full, and, gradually, he collected some +comforts about him in the deserted church. + +He called, more than once, at "Woodbine Villa," but Miss Carden was on a +visit. + +He was in the full career of fortune again, and sanguine of success, +before they met. One day, having ascertained from Jael what day she +would be at home, he called and was admitted. The room was empty, but +Miss Carden soon came into it, accompanied by Jael carrying the bust. + +"Ah, Mr. Little," said she, before he could possibly utter a word, "this +is fortunate. There is a party here on Thursday, and I want to show the +bust complete, if you don't mind." + +Henry said he would finish it for her. He accordingly set to work, and +waited quietly till Jael should leave the room, to have it out with +Grace. + +She, for her part, seemed to have forgotten his strange manner to her +the other day; perhaps she chose to forget it, or overlook it. But +Henry observed that Jael was not allowed to quit the room. Whatever +Miss Carden wanted she fetched herself, and came back softly, and rather +suddenly, as if she had a mind to surprise Jeel and the other too. +Female subtlety was clearly at work. + +"What do you advise me?" said Henry to Jael, during one of these +intervals. + +Jael never lifted her eyes from her work, and spoke under her breath, +"I think I'd be patient to-day. She must give you a chance to speak +some day. Talk to me, when she comes back--about the Cairnhope folk, or +anything." + +Henry followed this advice, and Grace, for the first time, found herself +a little ignored in the conversation. She was astonished at this and I +don't think she quite liked it. + +Henry was still going on with warmth and volubility about the Cairnhope +folk, their good hearts, and their superstitions, when a visitor was +announced. + +"Mr. Coventry." + +Henry stopped in the middle of a sentence. + +Grace brightened up, and said she was at home. + +Mr. Coventry entered the room; a tall, well-made man, with an aquiline +nose, and handsome face, only perhaps there were more lines in it than +he was entitled to at his age, for he was barely thirty. He greeted Miss +Carden with easy grace, and took no more notice of the other two, than +if they were chairs and tables. + +Mr. Frederick Coventry had studied the great art of pleasing, and +had mastered it wonderfully; but he was not the man to waste it +indiscriminately. + +He was there to please a young lady, to whom he was attached, not to +diffuse his sunshine indiscriminately. + +He courted her openly, not indelicately, but with a happy air of respect +and self-assurance. + +Henry sat, sick with jealousy, and tried to work and watch; but he could +only watch: his hand trembled too much to work. + +What may be called oblique flattery is very pleasing to those +quick-witted girls, who have had a surfeit of direct compliments: and it +is oblique flattery, when a man is supercilious and distant to others, +as well as tender and a little obsequious to her he would please. + +Grace Carden enjoyed this oblique flattery of Mr. Coventry's all the +more that it came to her just at a moment when her companions seemed +disposed to ignore her. She rewarded Mr. Coventry accordingly, and made +Henry Little's heart die within him. His agony became intolerable. What +a position was his! Set there, with a chisel in his hand, to copy the +woman he loved, while another wooed her before his face, and she smiled +at his wooing! + +At last his chisel fell out of his hand, and startled everybody: and +then he rose up with pale cheek, and glittering eyes, and Heaven only +knows what he was going to do or say. But at that moment another visitor +was announced, to whom indeed the door was never closed. He entered the +next moment, and Grace ran to meet him, crying, "Oh, Mr. Raby! this IS a +surprise." + +Mr. Raby kissed her, and shook hands with Mr. Coventry. He then said +a kind word to Jael Dence, who got up and courtesied to him. He cast +a careless glance on Henry and the bust, but said nothing. He was in a +hurry, and soon came to the object of his visit. + +"My dear," said he, "the last time I saw you, you said you were sorry +that Christmas was no longer kept in Hillsborough as it used to be." + +"And so I am." + +"Well, it is kept in Cairnhope, thank Heaven, pretty much as it was +three centuries ago. Your father will be in London, I hear; will you +honor my place and me with a visit during the Christmas holidays?" + +Grace opened her eyes with astonishment. "Oh, that I will," said she, +warmly. + +"You will take your chance of being snowed up?" + +"I am afraid I shall not be so fortunate," was the charming reply. + +The Squire turned to Coventry, and said slyly, "I would ask you to join +us, sir; but it is rather a dull place for a gentleman who keeps such +good company." + +"I never heard it spoken of as a dull place before," said the young man; +"and, if it was, you have taken a sure means to make it attractive." + +"That is true. Well, then, I have no scruple in asking you to join us;" +and he gave Grace a look, as much as to say, "Am I not a considerate +person?" + +"I am infinitely obliged to you, Mr. Raby," said Coventry, seriously; "I +will come." + +"You will stay to luncheon, godpapa?" + +"Never touch it. Good-by. Well, then, Christmas-eve I shall expect you +both. Dinner at six. But come an hour or two before it, if you can: and +Jael, my girl, you know you must dine at the hall on Christmas-eve, and +old Christmas-eve as usual, you and your sister and the old man." + +Jael courtesied, and said with homely cordiality, "We shall be there, +sir, please God we are alive." + +"Bring your gun, Coventry. There's a good sprinkling of pheasants left. +By-the-bye, what about that pedigree of yours; does it prove the point?" + +"Completely. Dorothy Raby, Sir Richard's youngest sister, married Thomas +Coventry, who was out in the forty-five. I'm having the pedigree copied +for you, at a stationer's near." + +"I should like to see it." + +"I'll go with you, and show it to you, if you like." + +Mr. Raby was evidently pleased at this attention, and they went off +together. + +Grace accompanied them to the door. On her return she was startled by +the condition of young Little. + +This sudden appearance of his uncle, whom he hated, had agitated him not +a little, and that uncle's interference had blasted his last hope. He +recognized this lover, and had sided with him: was going to shut the +pair up, in a country house, together. It was too much. He groaned, and +sank back in his chair, almost fainting, and his hands began to shake in +the air, as if he was in an ague. + +Both the women darted simultaneously toward him. "Oh! he's fainting!" +cried Grace. "Wine! wine! Fly." Jael ran out to fetch some, in spite of +a despairing gesture, by which the young man tried to convey to her it +was no use. + +"Wine can do me no good, nor death no harm. Why did I ever enter this +house?" + +"Oh, Mr. Little, don't look so; don't talk so," said Grace, turning +pale, in her turn. "Are you ill? What is the matter?" + +"Oh, nothing. What should ail me? I'm only a workman. What business have +I with a heart? I loved you dearly. I was working for you, fighting for +you, thinking for you, living for you. And you love that Coventry, and +never showed it." + +Jael came in with a glass of wine for him, but he waved her off with all +the grandeur of despair. + +"You tell me this to my face!" said Grace, haughtily; but her bosom +panted. + +"Yes; I tell you so to your face. I love you, with all my soul." + +"How dare you? What have I ever done, to justify--Oh, if you weren't so +pale, I'd give you a lesson. What could possess you? It's not my fault, +thank heaven. You have insulted me, sir. No; why should I? You must be +unhappy enough. There, I'll say but one word, and that, of course, is +'good morning.'" + +And she marched out of the room, trembling secretly in every limb. + +Henry sat down, and hid his face, and all his frame shook. + +Then Jael was all pity. She threw herself on her knees, and kissed his +trembling hands with canine fidelity, and wept on his shoulder. + +He took her hand, and tried hard to thank her, but the words were +choked. + +Grace Carden opened the door, and put her head cautiously in, for she +wanted to say a word to Jael without attracting Henry's attention. But, +when she saw Jael and Henry in so loving an attitude, she started, and +then turned as red as fire; and presently burst out laughing. + +Jael and Henry separated directly. + +Grace laughed again, an unpleasant laugh. "I beg pardon, good people. +I only wanted Mr. Little's address. I thought you could get it for me, +Jael. And now I'm sure you can. Ha! ha! ha!" + +And she was heard laughing after the door closed. + +Now there was a world of contempt and insolence in this laugh. It +conveyed, as plainly as words, "I was going to be so absurd as to +believe in your love, and pity it, at all events, though I can't approve +it: but now you have just set my mind at ease. Ha! ha! ha!" + +"Let me go," cried Henry, wildly. + +"Nay, tell me your address." + +"What for? To tell that cruel--laughing--" + +"Nay then, for myself." + +"That's a different thing. I respect you. But her, I mean to hate, as +much as I loved her." + +He gave Jael his address, and then got out of the house as fast as he +could. + + +That evening Grace Carden surprised her father, by coming into his +study. "Papa," said she, "I am come to ask a favor. You must not refuse +me. But I don't know that you ever did. Dearest, I want L50." + +"Well, my child; just tell me what it is for." + +"It is for Mr. Little; for his lessons." + +"Well, but L50!" + +"He has given me a good many. And to tell you the truth, papa, I +dismissed him rather unceremoniously; and now I should be glad to soften +the blow a little, if I can. Do be very good and obedient, dear papa, +and write what I shall dictate. PLEASE." + +"Well, spoiled child: who can resist you?" + +Then Grace dictated, and Mr. Carden wrote: + + +"DEAR SIR,--My daughter informs me that, as yet, you have received no +remuneration for the lessons you have given her. I beg your acceptance +of the inclosed check, and, at the same time, should be glad if you +would put a price on the admirable bust you have executed of her. + +"Yours obediently, + +"WALTER CARDEN." + + +The reply to this letter surprised Mr. Carden, so that he brought it to +Grace, and showed it her. + + +"DEAR SIR,--The lessons are not worth speaking of. I have learned more +in your house than I taught. I beg to return the check with thanks. +Price of the bust, five hundred guineas. + +"Yours obediently, + +"HENRY LITTLE." + + +Grace colored up, and her eyes sparkled. "That young man wants +humbling." + +"I don't see that, really. He is very civil, and I presume this five +hundred guineas is just a polite way of saying that he means to keep it. +Wants it for an advertisement, eh?" + +Grace smiled and bit her lip. "Oh, what a man of business you are!" And +a little while after the tears came into her eyes. "Madman!" said she to +herself. "He won't let me be his friend. Well, I can't help it." + +After the brief excitement of this correspondence, Little soon relapsed +into dull misery. His mother was alarmed, and could restrain herself no +longer. She implored his confidence. "Make me the partner of your grief, +dear," she said; "not that you can tell me anything I have not guessed +already; but, dearest, it will do you good to open your heart; and, who +knows, I may assist you. I know my sex much better than you do." + +Henry kissed her sadly, and said it was too late now. "It is all over. +She is going to marry another man." + +"Has she told you so?" + +"Not in words; but I have seen it. She has burned it into my heart." + +"I wish I knew her," said Mrs. Little, very earnestly, and almost in a +whisper. + +"Some day, mother, some day; but not now. Oh, the tortures one heart can +suffer, and yet not break." + +Mrs. Little sighed. "What, not even tell me her name?" + +"I can't, I can't. Oh, mother, you mean well, but you will drive me +mad." + +Mrs. Little forebore to press him further just then. She sat silent at +her work, and he at his, till they were aroused by a fly drawing up at +the door. + +A fine young woman got out with something heavy, and holding it like a +child in one arm, rapped at the door with the hand that was disengaged. + +Mrs. Little opened the door to her, and she and Jael Dence surveyed each +other with calm but searching eyes. + +"If you please, ma'am, does Mr. Little bide here?" + +Mrs. Little said yes, with a smile: for Jael's face and modesty pleased +her at first sight. + +"I have something for him." + +"I'll give it to him." + +"If you please, ma'am, I was to give it him myself." + +Henry recognized the voice, opened the door, and invited her in. + +Mrs. Little followed her, full of suppressed curiosity. + +This put Jael out, but she was too patient to show it. + +"It is the bust," said she; and put it softly down on the table with her +strong arms. + +Henry groaned. "She despises even that; she flings it at my head without +a word." + +"Nay; I have got a note for you." + +"Then why didn't you give it me at once?" cried Henry impatiently. + +She handed him the note without a word. + +It ran thus: + + +"Miss Carden presents her compliments to Mr. Little, and sends him his +beautiful bust. She is grieved that he will accept no remuneration +for his lessons; and begs permission to offer her best wishes for his +happiness and prosperity." + + +The gentleness of this disarmed Henry, and at the same time the firmness +crushed him. "It is all over!" he cried, despairingly: "and yet I can't +hate her." + +He ran from the room, unable to restrain his tears, and too proud and +fiery to endure two spectators of his grief. + +Mrs. Little felt as mothers feel toward those who wound their young. + +"Is it the woman's likeness?" said she bitterly, and then trembled with +emotion. + +"Ay." + +"May I see it?" + +"Surely, ma'am." And Jael began to undo the paper. + +But Mrs. Little stopped her. "No, not yet. I couldn't bear the sight of +a face that has brought misery upon him. I would rather look at yours. +It is a very honest one. May I inquire your name?" + +"Jael Dence--at your service." + +"Dence! ah, then no wonder you have a good face: a Cairnhope face. My +child, you remind me of days gone by. Come and see me again, will you? +Then I shall be more able to talk to you quietly." + +"Ay, that I will, ma'am." And Jael colored all over with surprise, and +such undisguised pleasure that Mrs. Little kissed her at parting. + +She had been gone a considerable time, when Henry came back; he found +his mother seated at the table, eying his masterpiece with stern and +bitter scrutiny. + +It was a picture, those two rare faces in such close opposition. The +carved face seemed alive; but the living face seemed inspired, and to +explore the other to the bottom with merciless severity. At such work +the great female eye is almost terrible in its power. + +"It is lovely," said she. "It seems noble. I can not find what I know +must be there. Oh, why does God give such a face as this to a fool?" + +"Not a word against her," said Henry. "She is as wise, and as noble, and +as good, as she is beautiful. She has but one fault; she loves another +man. Put her sweet face away; hide it from me till I am an old man, and +can bring it out to show young folks why I lived and die a bachelor. +Good-by, dear mother, I must saddle Black Harry, and away to my night's +work." + + +The days were very short now, and Henry spent two-thirds of his time +in Cairnhope Church. The joyous stimulus of his labor was gone but the +habit remained, and carried him on in a sort of leaden way. Sometimes he +wondered at himself for the hardships he underwent merely to make money, +since money had no longer the same charm for him; but a good workman is +a patient, enduring creature, and self-indulgence, our habit, is after +all, his exception. Henry worked heavily on, with his sore, sad heart, +as many a workman had done before him. Unfortunately his sleep began +to be broken a good deal. I am not quite clear whether it was the +after-clap of the explosion, or the prolonged agitation of his young +heart, but at this time, instead of the profound sleep that generally +rewards the sons of toil, he had fitful slumbers, and used to dream +strange dreams, in that old church, so full of gaunt sights and strange +sounds. And, generally speaking, however these dreams began, the figure +of Grace Carden would steal in ere he awoke. His senses, being only half +asleep, colored his dreams; he heard her light footstep in the pattering +rain, and her sweet voice in the musical moan of the desolate building; +desolate as his heart when he awoke, and behold it was a dream. + +The day after Christmas-day began brightly, but was dark and lowering +toward afternoon. Mrs. Little advised Henry to stay at home. But +he shook his head. "How could I get through the night? Work is my +salvation. But for my forge, I should perhaps end like--" he was going +to say "my poor father." But he had the sense to stop. + +Unable to keep him at home, the tender mother got his saddlebags, and +filled his flask with brandy, and packed up a huge piece of Yorkshire +pie, and even stuffed in a plaid shawl. And she strained her anxious +eyes after him as he rode off. + +When he got among the hills, he found it was snowing there very hard; +and then, somehow, notwithstanding all the speed he made, it was nearly +dark when he got on the moor, and the tracks he used to go by, over the +dangerous ground, were effaced. + +He went a snail's pace, and at last dismounted, and groped his way. He +got more than one fall in the snow, and thought himself very fortunate, +when, at last, something black towered before him, and it was the old +church. + +The scene was truly dismal: the church was already overburdened with +snow, and still the huge flakes fell fast and silently, and the little +mountain stream, now swollen to a broad and foaming torrent, went +roaring by, behind the churchyard wall. + +Henry shivered, and made for the shelter. + +The horse, to whom this church was merely a well-ventilated stable, went +in and clattered up the aisle, saddle-bags and all. + +Henry locked the door inside, and soon blew the coals to a white heat. +The bellows seemed to pant unnaturally loud, all was so deadly still. + +The windows were curtained with snow, that increased the general gloom, +though some of the layers shone ghostly white and crystalline, in the +light of the forge, and of two little grates he had set in a monument. + +Two heaps of snow lay in the center aisle, just under two open places +in the roof, and, on these, flakes as big as a pennypiece kept falling +through the air, and glittered like diamonds as they passed through the +weird light of the white coals. + +Oh! it was an appalling place, that night; youth and life seemed +intruders. Henry found it more than he could bear. He took a couple of +candles, placed them in bottles, and carried them to the western window, +and there lighted them. This one window was protected by the remains of +iron-work outside, and the whole figure of one female saint in colored +glass survived. + +This expedient broke the devilish blackness, and the saint shone out +glorious. + +The horrid spell thus broken in some degree, Henry plied his hammer, and +made the church ring, and the flaming metal fly. + +But by-and-by, as often happened to him now, a drowsiness overcame him +at the wrong time. In vain he battled against it. It conquered him even +as he worked; and, at last, he leaned with his arms against the handle +of the bellows, and dozed as he stood. + +He had a dream of that kind which we call a vision, because the dream +seems to come to the dreamer where he is. + +He dreamed he was there at his forge, and a soft voice called to him. +He turned, and lo! between him and the western window stood six female +figures, all dressed in beautiful dresses, but of another age, and of +many colors, yet transparent; and their faces fair, but white as snow: +and the ladies courtesied to him, with a certain respectful majesty +beyond description: and, somehow, by their faces, and their way of +courtesying to him, he knew they were women of his own race, and +themselves aware of the relationship. + +Then several more such figures came rustling softly through the wall +from the churchyard, and others rose from the vaults and took their +places quietly, till there was an avenue of dead beauties; and they +stood in an ascending line up to the west window. Some stood on the +ground, some on the air; that made no difference to them. + +Another moment, and then a figure more lovely than them all shone in the +window, at the end of that vista of fair white faces. + +It was Grace Carden. She smiled on him and said, "I am going where I +can love you. There the world will not divide us. Follow me: follow; +follow!" + +Then she melted away; then all melted: and he awoke with a loud cry that +echoed through the edifice, now dark and cold as the grave; and a great +white owl went whirling, and with his wings made the only air that +stirred. + +The fire was out, and the place a grave. Yet, cold as it was, the +dreamer was bathed in perspiration, so clear had been that unearthly +vision, so ghostly was now that flitting owl. + +Shuddering all over, he lighted his fire again, and plied his bellows +with fury, till the fire glowed brighter than ever; and even then he +prayed aloud that he might never see the like again, even in a dream. + +He worked like mad, and his hand trembled as he struck. Ere he had +thoroughly recovered the shock, a wild cry arose outside. + +He started back, awe-struck. + +What with the time, the place, and that strange vision, the boundaries +of the natural and the supernatural were a little confused in his mind. + +"Help, help!" cried a voice; and now the familiar tone of that voice +made him utter a loud cry in return. + +He searched for the key, and made his way to the door; but, just as he +began to insert the key, the voice was at the door outside. + +"Oh, save me! A dying girl! Save me!" + +The cry was now a moan, and the next moment an inert mass fell like lead +against the door in a vain attempt to knock at it. + +The voice was Grace Carden's, and it was Grace Carden's body that fell +so inert and powerless against the church-door, within a yard of Henry +Little's hand. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + +On the twenty-fourth of December Miss Carden and Jael Dence drove to +Cairnhope village, and stopped at the farm: but Nathan and his eldest +daughter had already gone up to the Hall; so they waited there but a +minute or two to light the carriage lamps, and then went on up the hill. +It was pitch dark when they reached the house. Inside, one of Mr. Raby's +servants was on the look-out for the sound of wheels, and the visitors +had no need to knock or ring; this was a point of honor with the master +of the mansion; when he did invite people, the house opened its arms; +even as they drove up, open flew the great hall-door, and an enormous +fire inside blazed in their faces, and shot its flame beyond them out +into the night. + +Grace alighted, and was about to enter the house, when Jael stopped her, +and said, "Oh, miss, you will be going in left foot foremost. Pray don't +do that: it is so unlucky." + +Grace laughed, but changed her foot, and entered a lofty hall, hung +with helmets, pikes, breast-plates, bows, cross-bows, antlers etc., etc. +Opposite her was the ancient chimneypiece and ingle-nook, with no grate +but two huge iron dogs, set five feet apart; and on them lay a birch log +and root, the size of a man, with a dozen beech billets burning briskly +and crackling underneath and aside it. This genial furnace warmed the +staircase and passages, and cast a fiery glow out on the carriage, and +glorified the steep helmets and breast-plates of the dead Rabys on the +wall, and the sparkling eyes of the two beautiful women who now stood +opposite it in the pride of their youth, and were warmed to the heart by +its crackle and glow. "Oh! what a glorious fire, this bitter night. Why, +I never saw such a--" + +"It is the yule log, miss. Ay, and you might go all round England, +and not find its fellow, I trow. But our Squire he don't go to the +chandler's shop for his yule log, but to his own woods, and fells a +great tree." + +A housemaid now came forward with bed candles, to show Miss Carden to +her room. Grace was going up, as a matter of course, when Jael, busy +helping the footman with her boxes, called after her: "The stocking, +miss! the stocking!" + +Grace looked down at her feet in surprise. + +"There it is, hung up by the door. We must put our presents into it +before we go upstairs." + +"Must we? what on earth am I to give?" + +"Oh, any thing will do. See, I shall put in this crooked sixpence." + +Grace examined her purse, and complained that all her stupid sixpences +were straight. + +"Never mind, miss; put in a hairpin, sooner than pass the stocking o' +Christmas Eve." + +Grace had come prepared to encounter old customs. She offered her +shawl-pin: and Jael, who had modestly inserted her own gift, pinned +Grace's offering on the outside of the stocking with a flush of pride. +Then they went upstairs with the servant, and Grace was ushered into +a bedroom of vast size, with two huge fires burning at each end; each +fireplace was flanked with a coal-scuttle full of kennel coal in large +lumps, and also with an enormous basket of beech billets. She admired +the old-fashioned furniture, and said, "Oh, what a palace of a bedroom! +This will spoil me for my little poky room. Here one can roam about +and have great thoughts. Hillsborough, good-by! I end my days in the +country." + +Presently her quick ears caught the rattle of swift wheels upon the +hard road: she ran to the window, and peeped behind the curtain. Two +brilliant lamps were in sight, and drew nearer and nearer, like great +goggling eyes, and soon a neat dog-cart came up to the door. Before it +had well-stopped, the hospitable door flew open, and the yule fire +shone on Mr. Coventry, and his natty groom, and his dog cart with plated +axles; it illumined the silver harness, and the roan horse himself, and +the breath that poured into the keen air from his nostrils red inside. + +Mr. Coventry dropped from his shoulders, with easy grace, something +between a coat and a cloak, lined throughout with foxes' skin; and, +alighting, left his groom to do the rest. The fur was reddish, relieved +with occasional white; and Grace gloated over it, as it lay glowing +in the fire-light. "Ah," said she, "I should never do for a poor man's +wife: I'm so fond of soft furs and things, and I don't like poky rooms." +With that she fell into a reverie, which was only interrupted by the +arrival of Jael and her boxes. + +Jael helped her unpack, and dress. There was no lack of conversation +between these two, but most of it turned upon nothings. One topic, that +might have been interesting to the readers of this tale, was avoided +by them both. They had now come to have a high opinion of each other's +penetration, and it made them rather timid and reserved on that subject. + +Grace was dressed, and just going down, when she found she wanted a pin. +She asked Jael for one. + +Jael looked aghast. "Oh, miss, I'd rather you would take one, in spite +of me." + +"Well, so I will. There!" And she whipped one away from the bosom of +Jael's dress. + +"Mind, I never gave it you." + +"No. I took it by brute force." + +"I like you too well to give you a pin." + +"May I venture to inquire what would be the consequence?" + +"Ill luck, you may be sure. Heart-trouble, they do say." + +"Well, I'm glad to escape that so easily. Why, this is the temple of +superstition, and you are the high-Priestess. How shall I ever get on +at dinner, without you? I know I shall do something to shock Mr. Raby. +Perhaps spill the very salt. I generally do." + +"Ay, miss, at home. But, dear heart, you won't see any of them nasty +little salt-cellars here, that some crazy creature have invented to +bring down bad luck. You won't spill the salt here, no fear: but don't +ye let any body help you to it neither, if he helps you to salt, he +helps you to sorrow." + +"Oh, does he? Then it is fortunate nobody ever does help anybody to +salt. Well, yours is a nice creed. Why, we are all at the mercy of other +people, according to you. Say I have a rival: she smiles in my face, and +says, 'My sweet friend, accept this tribute of my esteem;' and gives me +a pinch of salt, before I know where I am. I wither on the spot; and +she sails off with the prize. Or, if there is no salt about, she comes +behind me with a pin, and pins it to my skirt, and that pierces my +heart. Don't you see what abominable nonsense it all is?" + +The argument was cut short by the ringing of a tremendous bell. + +Grace gave the last, swift, searching, all-comprehensive look of her sex +into the glass, and went down to the drawing-room. There she found Mr. +Raby and Mr. Coventry, who both greeted her cordially; and the next +moment dinner was announced. + +"Raby Hall" was a square house, with two large low wings. The left wing +contained the kitchen, pantry, scullery, bakehouse, brew-house, etc.; +and servants' bedrooms above. The right wing the stables, coach-houses, +cattle-sheds, and several bedrooms. The main building of the hall, +the best bedrooms, and the double staircase, leading up to them +in horse-shoe form from the hall: and, behind the hall, on the +ground-floor, there was a morning-room, in which several of the Squire's +small tenants were even now preparing for supper by drinking tea, and +eating cakes made in rude imitation of the infant Saviour. On the right +of the hall were the two drawing-rooms en suite, and on the left was +the remarkable room into which the host now handed Miss Carden, and Mr. +Coventry followed. This room had been, originally, the banqueting-hall. +It was about twenty feet high, twenty-eight feet wide, and fifty feet +long, and ended in an enormous bay window, that opened upon the lawn. +It was entirely paneled with oak, carved by old Flemish workmen, and +adorned here and there with bold devices. The oak, having grown old in +a pure atmosphere, and in a district where wood and roots were generally +burned in dining-rooms, had acquired a very rich and beautiful color, +a pure and healthy reddish brown, with no tinge whatever of black; a +mighty different hue from any you can find in Wardour Street. Plaster +ceiling there was none, and never had been. The original joists, and +beams, and boards, were still there, only not quite so rudely fashioned +as of old; for Mr. Raby's grandfather had caused them to be planed and +varnished, and gilded a little in serpentine lines. This woodwork above +gave nobility to the room, and its gilding, though worn, relieved the +eye agreeably. + +The further end was used as a study, and one side of it graced with +books, all handsomely bound: the other side, with a very beautiful organ +that had an oval mirror in the midst of its gilt dummy-pipes. All this +made a cozy nook in the grand room. + +What might be called the dining-room part, though rich, was rather +somber on ordinary occasions; but this night it was decorated +gloriously. The materials were simple--wax-candles and holly; the effect +was produced by a magnificent use of these materials. There were eighty +candles, of the largest size sold in shops, and twelve wax pillars, +five feet high, and the size of a man's calf; of these, four only +were lighted at present. The holly was not in sprigs, but in enormous +branches, that filled the eye with glistening green and red: and, in the +embrasure of the front window stood a young holly-tree entire, eighteen +feet high, and gorgeous with five hundred branches of red berries. The +tree had been dug up, and planted here in an enormous bucket, used for +that purpose, and filled with mold. + +Close behind this tree were placed two of the wax pillars, lighted, and +their flame shone through the leaves and berries magically. + +As Miss Carden entered, on Mr. Raby's arm, her eye swept the room with +complacency, and settled on the holly-tree. At sight of that she +pinched Mr. Raby's arm, and cried "Oh!" three times. Then, ignoring the +dinner-table altogether, she pulled her host away to the tree, and stood +before it, with clasped hands. "Oh, how beautiful!" + +Mr. Raby was gratified. "So then our forefathers were not quite such +fools as some people say." + +"They were angels, they were ducks. It is beautiful, it is divine." + +Mr. Raby looked at the glowing cheek, and deep, sparkling, sapphire eye. +"Come," said he; "after all, there's nothing here so beautiful as the +young lady who now honors the place with her presence." + +With this he handed her ceremoniously to a place at his right hand; said +a short grace, and sat down between his two guests. + +"But, Mr. Raby," said Grace, ruefully, "I'm with my back to the +holly-tree." + +"You can ask Coventry to change places." + +Mr. Coventry rose, and the change was effected. + +"Well, it is your doing, Coventry. Now she'll overlook YOU." + +"All the better for me, perhaps. I'm content: Miss Carden will look at +the holly, and I shall look at Miss Carden." + +"Faute de mieux." + +"C'est mechant." + +"And I shall fine you both a bumper of champagne, for going out of the +English language." + +"I shall take my punishment like a man." + +"Then take mine as well. Champagne with me means frenzy." + +But, in the midst of the easy banter and jocose airy nothings of the +modern dining-room, an object attracted Grace's eye. It was a picture, +with its face turned to the wall, and some large letters on the back of +the canvas. + +This excited Grace's curiosity directly, and, whenever she could, +without being observed, she peeped, and tried to read the inscription; +but, what with Mr. Raby's head, and a monster candle that stood before +it, she could not decipher it unobserved. She was inclined to ask Mr. +Raby; but she was very quick, and, observing that the other portraits +were of his family, she suspected at once that the original of this +picture had offended her host, and that it would be in bad taste, and +might be offensive, to question him. Still the subject took possession +of her. + +At about eight o'clock a servant announced candles in the drawing-room. + +Upon this Mr. Raby rose, and, without giving her any option on the +matter, handed her to the door with obsolete deference. + +In the drawing-room she found a harpsichord, a spinet, and a piano, all +tuned expressly for her. This amused her, as she had never seen either +of the two older instruments in her life. She played on them all three. + +Mr. Raby had the doors thrown open to hear her. + +She played some pretty little things from Mendelssohn, Spohr, and +Schubert. + +The gentlemen smoked and praised. + +Then she found an old music-book, and played Hamlet's overture to Otho, +and the minuet. + +The gentlemen left off praising directly, and came silently into the +room to hear the immortal melodist. But this is the rule in music; the +lips praise the delicate gelatinous, the heart beats in silence at the +mighty melodious. + +Tea and coffee came directly afterward, and ere they were disposed of, a +servant announced "The Wassailers." + +"Well, let them come in," said Mr. Raby. + +The school-children and young people of the village trooped in, and made +their obeisances, and sang the Christmas Carol-- + + "God rest you, merry gentlemen, + Let nothing you dismay." + +Then one of the party produced an image of the Virgin and Child, and +another offered comfits in a box; a third presented the wassail-cup, +into which Raby immediately poured some silver, and Coventry followed +his example. Grace fumbled for her purse, and, when she had found it, +began to fumble in it for her silver. + +But Raby lost all patience, and said, "There, I give this for the lady, +and she'll pay me NEXT CHRISTMAS." + +The wassailers departed, and the Squire went to say a kind word to his +humbler guests. + +Miss Carden took that opportunity to ask Mr. Coventry if he had noticed +the picture with its face to the wall. He said he had. + +"Do you know who it is?" + +"No idea." + +"Did you read the inscription?" + +"No. But, if you are curious, I'll go back to the dining-room, and read +it." + +"I'm afraid he might be angry. There is no excuse for going there now." + +"Send me for your pocket-handkerchief." + +"Please see whether I have left my pocket-handkerchief in the +dining-room, Mr. Coventry," said Grace, demurely. + +Mr. Coventry smiled, and hurried away. But he soon came back to say that +the candles were all out, the windows open, and the servants laying the +cloth for supper. + +"Oh, never mind, then," said Grace; "when we go in to supper I'll look +myself." + +But a considerable time elapsed before supper, and Mr. Coventry spent +this time in making love rather ardently, and Grace in defending herself +rather feebly. + +It was nearly eleven o'clock when Mr. Raby rejoined them, and they all +went in to supper. There were candles lighted on the table and a few +here and there upon the walls; but the room was very somber: and Mr. +Raby informed them this was to remind them of the moral darkness, +in which the world lay before that great event they were about to +celebrate. + +He then helped each of them to a ladleful of frumety, remarking at the +same time, with a grim smile, that they were not obliged to eat +it; there would be a very different supper after midnight. Then a +black-letter Bible was brought him, and he read it all to himself at a +side-table. + +After an interval of silence so passed there was a gentle tap at the +bay window. Mr. Raby went and threw it open, and immediately a woman's +voice, full, clear, and ringing, sang outside: + + "The first Noel the angels did say, + Was to three poor shepherds, in fields as they lay, + In fields where they were keeping their sheep, + On a cold winter's night that was so deep. + Chorus.--Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel, + Born is the King of Israel." + +The chorus also was sung outside. + +During the chorus one of the doors opened, and Jael Dence came in by it; +and the treble singer, who was the blacksmith's sister, came in at the +window, and so the two women met in the room, and sang the second verse +in sweetest harmony. These two did not sing like invalids, as their +more refined sisters too often do; from their broad chests, and healthy +lungs, and noble throats, and above all, their musical hearts, they +poured out the harmony so clear and full, that every glass in the room +rang like a harp, and a bolt of ice seemed to shoot down Grace Carden's +backbone; and, in the chorus, gentle George's bass was like a diapason. + + "They looked up and saw a star + That shone in the East beyond them far, + And unto the earth it gave a great light, + And so it continued both day and night. + Chorus--Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel, + Born is the King of Israel." + +As the Noel proceeded, some came in at the window, others at the doors, +and the lower part of the room began to fill with singers and auditors. + +The Noel ended: there was a silence, during which the organ was opened, +the bellows blown, and a number of servants and others came into the +room with little lighted tapers, and stood, in a long row, awaiting a +signal from the Squire. + +He took out his watch, and, finding it was close on twelve o'clock, +directed the doors to be flung open, that he might hear the great clock +in the hall strike the quarters. + +There was a solemn hush of expectation, that made the sensitive heart of +Grace Carden thrill with anticipation. + +The clock struck the first quarter--dead silence; the second--the +third--dead silence. + +But, at the fourth, and with the first stroke of midnight, out burst the +full organ and fifty voices, with the "Gloria in excelsis Deo;" and, as +that divine hymn surged on, the lighters ran along the walls and lighted +the eighty candles, and, for the first time, the twelve waxen pillars, +so that, as the hymn concluded, the room was in a blaze, and it was +Christmas Day. + +Instantly an enormous punch-bowl was brought to the host. He put his +lips to it, and said, "Friends, neighbors, I wish you all a merry +Christmas." Then there was a cheer that made the whole house echo; and, +by this time, the tears were running down Grace Carden's cheeks. + +She turned aside, to hide her pious emotion, and found herself right +opposite the picture, with this inscription, large and plain, in the +blaze of light-- + + +"GONE INTO TRADE" + + +If, in the middle of the pious harmony that had stirred her soul, some +blaring trumpet had played a polka, in another key, it could hardly have +jarred more upon her devotional frame, than did this earthly line, that +glared out between two gigantic yule candles, just lighted in honor of +Him, whose mother was in trade when he was born. + +She turned from it with deep repugnance, and seated herself in silence +at the table. + +Very early in the supper she made an excuse, and retired to her room: +and, as she went out, her last glance was at the mysterious picture. + +She saw it again next morning at breakfast-time; but, it must be owned, +with different eyes. It was no longer contrasted with a religious +ceremony, and with the sentiments of gratitude and humility proper to +that great occasion, when we commemorate His birth, whose mother had +gone into trade. The world, and society, whose child she was, seemed now +to speak with authority from the canvas, and to warn her how vain +and hopeless were certain regrets, which lay secretly, I might say +clandestinely, at her heart. + +She revered her godfather, and it was no small nor irrelevant discovery +to find that he had actually turned a picture in disgrace to the wall, +because its owner had descended to the level, or probably not quite to +the level, of Henry Little. + +Jael Dence came up from the farm on Christmas afternoon, and almost the +first word Grace spoke was to ask her if she knew whose picture that was +in the dining-room. This vague description was enough for Jael. She said +she could not tell for certain, but she had once heard her father say +it was the Squire's own sister; but, when she had pressed him on the +subject, the old man had rebuked her--told her not to meddle too much +with other folks' business. "And, to be sure, Squire has his reasons, no +doubt," said Jael, rather dryly. + +"The reason that is written on the back?" + +"Ay: and a very poor reason too, to my mind." + +"You are not the best judge of that--excuse me for saying so. Oh dear, I +wish I could see it." + +"Don't think of such a thing, miss. You can't, however, for it's +padlocked down that way you could never loose it without being found +out. No longer agone than last Yule-time 'twas only turned, and not +fastened. But they say in the kitchen, that one day last month Squire +had them all up, and said the picture had been tampered with while he +was at Hillsboro'; and he scolded, and had it strapped and padlocked +down as 'tis." + +The reader can imagine the effect of these fresh revelations. And a +lover was at hand, of good birth, good manners, and approved by her +godfather. That lover saw her inclining toward him, and omitted nothing +to compliment and please her. To be sure, that was no uphill work, for +he loved her better than he had ever loved a woman in his life, which +was a good deal to say, in his case. + +They spent Christmas Day very happily together. Church in the morning; +then luncheon; then thick boots, a warmer shawl, and a little walk +all together; for Mr. Raby took a middle course; since no positive +engagement existed, he would not allow his fair guest to go about with +Mr. Coventry alone, and so he compromised, even in village eyes; but, on +the other hand, by stopping now and then to give an order, or exchange +a word, he gave Coventry many opportunities, and that gentleman availed +himself of them with his usual tact. + +In the evening they sat round the great fire, and Mr. Raby mulled and +spiced red wine by a family receipt, in a large silver saucepan; and +they sipped the hot and generous beverage, and told stories and +legends, the custom of the house on Christmas night. Mr. Raby was an +inexhaustible repertory of ghost-stories and popular legends. But I +select one that was told by Mr. Coventry, and told with a certain easy +grace that gave it no little interest. + + +MR. COVENTRY'S TALE. + + +"When I was quite a child, there was a very old woman living in our +village, that used to frighten me with her goggle eyes, and muttering. +She passed for a witch, I think; and when she died--I was eight years +old then--old people put their heads together, and told strange stories +about her early life. It seems that this Molly Slater was away in +service at Bollington, a village half way between our place and +Hillsborough, and her fellow-servants used to quiz her because she had +no sweetheart. At last, she told them to wait till next Hilisboro' fair, +and they should see. And just before the fair, she reminded them of +their sneers, and said she would not come home without a sweetheart, +though she took the Evil one himself. For all that, she did leave the +fair alone. But, as she trudged home in the dark, a man overtook her, +and made acquaintance with her. He was a pleasant fellow, and told her +his name was William Easton. Of course she could not see his face very +well, but he had a wonderfully sweet voice. After that night, he used to +court her, and sing to her, but always in the dark. He never would face +a candle, though he was challenged to more than once. One night there +was a terrible noise heard--it is described as if a number of men were +threshing out corn upon the roof--and Molly Slater was found wedged in +between the bed and the wall, in a place where there was scarcely room +to put your hand. Several strong men tried to extricate her by force; +but both the bed and the woman's body resisted so strangely that, +at last, they thought it best to send for the parson. He was a great +scholar, and himself under some suspicion of knowing more than it would +be good for any less pious person to know. Well, the parson came, and +took a candle that was burning, and held it to the place where poor +Molly was imprisoned, and moaning; and they say he turned pale, and +shivered, for all his learning. I forget what he said or did next; but +by-and-by there was a colloquy in a whisper between him and some person +unseen, and they say that this unseen whisper was very sweet, and +something like the chords of a harp, only low and very articulate. The +parson whispered, 'God gives a sinner time.' The sweet voice answered, +'He can afford to; he is the stronger.' Then the parson adjured the +unseen one to wait a year and a day. But he refused, still in the +gentlest voice. Then the parson said these words: 'By all we love and +fear, by all you fear and hate, I adjure you to loose her, or wait till +next Christmas Eve.' + +"I suppose the Evil Spirit saw some trap in that proposal, for he is +said to have laughed most musically. He answered, 'By all I fear +and hate, I'll loose her never; but, but I'll wait for her--till the +candle's burnt out;' and he chuckled most musically again. + +"'Then wait to all eternity,' the parson roared; and blew the candle out +directly, and held it, with his hands crossed over it." + +Grace Carden's eyes sparkled in the firelight. "Go on," she cried, +excitedly. + +"The girl was loosed easily enough after that; but she was found to be +in a swoon; and not the least bruised, though ten villagers had been +pulling at her one after another." + +"And what became of her afterward?" + +"She lived to be ninety-six, and died in my time. I think she had money +left her. But she never married; and when she was old she wandered about +the lanes, muttering, and frightening little boys, myself among the +number. But now my little story follows another actor of the tale." + +"Oh, I'm so glad it is not over." + +"No. The parson took the candle away, and it was never seen again. But, +somehow, it got wind that he had built it into the wall of the church; +perhaps he didn't say so, but was only understood to say so. However, +people used to look round the church for the place. And now comes +the most remarkable thing of all; three years ago the present rector +repaired the floor of the chancel, intending to put down encaustic +tiles. Much to his surprise, the workmen found plenty of old encaustic +tiles; they had been interred as rubbish at some period, when antiquity +and beauty were less respected than they are now, I suppose." + +Mr. Raby broke in, "The Puritans. Barbarians! beasts! It was just like +them. Well, sir--?" + +"When the rector found that, he excavated more than was absolutely +necessary for his purpose, and the deeper he went the more encaustic +tiles. In one place they got down to the foundation, and they found an +oak chest fast in the rock--a sort of channel had been cut in the rock +for this chest, or rather box (for it was only about eighteen inches +long), to lie in. The master mason was there luckily, and would not move +it till the rector had seen it. He was sent for, but half the parish +was there before him; and he tells me there were three theories firmly +established and proved, before he could finish his breakfast and get to +the spot. Theory of Wilder, the village grocer: 'It is treasure hidden +by them there sly old monks.' Mr. Wilder is a miser, and is known to lay +up money. He is, I believe, the only man left in the North Country who +can show you a hundred spade guineas." + +Mr. Raby replied, energetically, "I respect him. Wilder forever! What +was the next theory?" + +"The skeleton of a child. I forget who propounded this; but I believe +it carried the majority. But the old sexton gave it a blow. 'Nay, nay,' +said he; 'them's the notions of strangers. I was born here, and my +father afore me. It will be Molly Slater's candle, and naught else.' +Then poor Molly's whole story came up again over the suspected box. But +I am very tedious." + +"Tedious! You are delightful, and thrilling, and pray go on. The rector +had the box opened?" + +"On the spot." + +"Well!" + +"The box went to pieces, in spite of all their care. But there was no +doubt as to its contents." + +Grace exclaimed, enthusiastically, "A candle. Oh, do say a candle!" + +Mr. Coventry responded, "It's awfully tempting; but I suspect the +traditional part of my story is SLIGHTLY EMBELLISHED, so the historical +part must be accurate. What the box did really contain, to my knowledge, +was a rush-wick, much thicker than they are made nowadays: and this +rush-wick was impregnated with grease, and even lightly coated with a +sort of brown wafer-like paste. The rector thinks it was a combination +of fine dust from the box with the original grease. He shall show it +you, if you are curious to see it." + +"Of course we are curious. Oh, Mr. Raby, what a strange story. And how +well he told it." + +"Admirably. We must drink his health." + +"I'll wish it him instead, because I require all my reason just now to +understand his story. And I don't understand it, after all. There: +you found the candle, and so it is all true. But what does the rector +think?" + +"Well, he says there is no connection whatever between the rush-wick +and--" + +"Don't tell her what HE says," cried Raby, with a sudden fury that made +Grace start and open her eyes. "I know the puppy. He is what is called +a divine nowadays; but used to be called a skeptic. There never was so +infidel an age. Socinus was content to prove Jesus Christ a man; but +Renan has gone and proved him a Frenchman. Nothing is so gullible as an +unbeliever. The right reverend father in God, Cocker, has gnawed away +the Old Testament: the Oxford doctors are nibbling away the New: nothing +escapes but the apocrypha: yet these same skeptics believe the impudent +lies, and monstrous arithmetic of geology, which babbles about a +million years, a period actually beyond the comprehension of the human +intellect; and takes up a jaw-bone, that some sly navvy has transplanted +over-night from the churchyard into Lord knows what stratum, fees the +navvy, gloats over the bone, and knocks the Bible down with it. No, Mr. +Coventry, your story is a good one, and well told; don't let us defile +it with the comments of a skeptical credulous pedant. Fill your glass, +sir. Here's to old religion, old stories, old songs, old houses, old +wine, old friends, or" (recovering himself with admirable grace) "to +new friends that are to be old ones ere we die. Come, let the stronger +vessel drink, and the weaker vessel sip, and all say together, after +me-- + + "Well may we all be, + Ill may we never see, + That make good company, + Beneath the roof of Raby." + +When this rude rhyme had been repeated in chorus, there was a little +silence, and the conversation took a somewhat deeper tone. It began +through Grace asking Mr. Raby, with all the simplicity of youth, +whether he had ever seen anything supernatural with his own eyes. "For +instance," said she, "this deserted church of yours, that you say the +shepherd said he saw on fire--did YOU see that?" + +"Not I. Indeed, the church is not in sight from here. No, Grace, I +never saw any thing supernatural: and I am sorry for it, for I laugh at +people's notion that a dead man has any power to injure the living; how +can a cold wind come from a disembodied spirit? I am all that a ghost +is, and something more; and I only wish I COULD call the dead from +their graves; I'd soon have a dozen gentlemen and ladies out of that old +church-yard into this very room. And, if they would only come, you would +see me converse with them as civilly and as calmly as I am doing with +you. The fact is, I have some questions to put, which only the dead can +answer--passages in the family correspondence, referring to things I +can't make out for the life of me." + +"Oh, Mr. Raby, pray don't talk in this dreadful way, for fear they +should be angry and come." And Grace looked fearfully round over her +shoulder. + +Mr. Raby shook his head; and there was a dead silence. + +Mr. Raby broke it rather unexpectedly. "But," said he, gravely, "if I +have seen nothing, I've heard something. Whether it was supernatural, +I can't say; but, at least, it was unaccountable and terrible. I have +heard THE GABRIEL HOUNDS." + +Mr. Coventry and Grace looked at one another, and then inquired, almost +in a breath, what the Gabriel hounds were. + +"A strange thing in the air that is said, in these parts, to foretell +calamity." + +"Oh dear!" said Grace, "this is thrilling again; pray tell us." + +"Well, one night I was at Hillsborough on business, and, as I walked +by the old parish church, a great pack of beagles, in full cry, passed +close over my head." + +"Oh!" + +"Yes; they startled me, as I never was startled in my life before. I had +never heard of the Gabriel hounds then, and I was stupefied. I think +I leaned against the wall there full five minutes, before I recovered +myself, and went on." + +"Oh dear! But did any thing come of it?" + +"You shall judge for yourself. I had left a certain house about an hour +and a half: there was trouble in that house, but only of a pecuniary +kind. To tell the truth, I came back with some money for them, or +rather, I should say, with the promise of it. I found the wife in a +swoon: and, upstairs, her husband lay dead by his own hand." + +"Oh, my poor godpapa!" cried Grace, flinging her arm tenderly round his +neck. + +"Ay, my child, and the trouble did not end there. Insult followed; +ingratitude; and a family feud, which is not healed yet, and never will +be--till she and her brat come on their knees to me." + +Mr. Raby had no sooner uttered these last words with great heat, than +he was angry with himself. "Ah!" said he, "the older a man gets, the +weaker. To think of my mentioning that to you young people!" And he rose +and walked about the room in considerable agitation and vexation. "Curse +the Gabriel hounds! It is the first time I have spoken of them since +that awful night; it is the last I ever will speak of them. What they +are, God, who made them, knows. Only I pray I may never hear them again, +nor any friend of mine." + +Next morning Jael Dence came up to the hall, and almost the first +question Grace asked her was, whether she had ever heard of the Gabriel +hounds. + +Jael looked rather puzzled. Grace described them after Mr. Raby. + +"Why, that will be Gabble Retchet," said Jael. "I wouldn't talk much +about the like, if I was you, miss." + +But Grace persisted, and, at last, extracted from her that sounds had +repeatedly been heard in the air at night, as of a pack of hounds in +full cry, and that these hounds ran before trouble. "But," said Jael, +solemnly, "they are not hounds at all; they are the souls of unbaptized +children, wandering in the air till the day of judgment." + +This description, however probable, had the effect of making Grace +disbelieve the phenomenon altogether, and she showed her incredulity by +humming a little air. + +But Jael soon stopped that. "Oh, miss, pray don't do so. If you sing +before breakfast, you'll cry before supper." + +At breakfast, Mr. Coventry invited Miss Carden to go to the top of +Cairnhope Peak, and look over four counties. He also told her she could +see Bollinghope house, his own place, very well from the Peak. + +Grace assented: and, immediately after breakfast, begged Jael to be in +the way to accompany her. She divined, with feminine quickness, that Mr. +Coventry would be very apt, if he pointed out Bollinghope House to her +from the top of a mountain, to say, "Will you be its mistress?" but, +possibly, she did not wish to be hurried, or it may have been only a +mere instinct, an irrational impulse of self-defense, with which the +judgment had nothing to do; or perhaps it was simple modesty. Any way, +she engaged Jael to be of the party. + +It was talked of again at luncheon, and then Mr. Raby put in a word. "I +have one stipulation to make, young people, and that is that you go up +the east side, and down the same way. It is all safe walking on that +side. I shall send you in my four-wheel to the foot of the hill, and +George will wait for you there at the 'Colley Dog' public-house, and +bring you home again." + +This was, of course, accepted with thanks, and the four-wheel came round +at two o'clock. Jael was seated in front by the side of George, who +drove; Mr. Coventry and Grace, behind. He had his fur-cloak to keep his +companion warm on returning from the hill; but Mr. Raby, who did nothing +by halves, threw in some more wraps, and gave a warm one to Jael; she +was a favorite with him, as indeed were all the Dences. + +They started gayly, and rattled off at a good pace. Before they had got +many yards on the high-road, they passed a fir-plantation, belonging to +Mr. Raby, and a magpie fluttered out of this, and flew across the road +before them. + +Jael seized the reins, and pulled them so powerfully, she stopped the +pony directly. "Oh, the foul bird!" she cried, "turn back! turn back!" + +"What for?" inquired Mr. Coventry. + +"We shall meet with trouble else. One magpie! and right athwart us too." + +"What nonsense!" said Grace. + +"Nay, nay, it is not; Squire knows better. Wait just one minute, till +I speak to Squire." She sprang from the carriage with one bound, and, +holding up her dress with one hand, ran into the house like a lapwing. + +"The good, kind, silly thing!" said Grace Carden. + +Jael soon found Mr. Raby, and told him about the magpie, and begged him +to come out and order them back. + +But Mr. Raby smiled, and shook his head. "That won't do. Young ladies +and gentlemen of the present day don't believe in omens." + +"But you do know better, sir. I have heard father say you were going +into Hillsborough with him one day, and a magpie flew across, and father +persuaded you to turn back." + +"That is true; he was going in to buy some merino sheep, and I to +deposit my rents in Carrington's bank. Next day the bank broke. And the +merino sheep all died within the year. But how many thousand times does +a magpie cross us and nothing come of it? Come, run away, my good girl, +and don't keep them waiting." + +Jael obeyed, with a sigh. She went back to her party--they were gone. +The carriage was just disappearing round a turn in the road. She looked +at it with amazement, and even with anger. It seemed to her a brazen act +of bad faith. + +"I wouldn't have believed it of her," said she, and went back to the +house, mortified and grieved. She did not go to Mr. Raby again; but he +happened to catch sight of her about an hour afterward, and called +to her--"How is this, Jael? Have you let them go alone, because of a +magpie?" And he looked displeased. + +"Nay, sir: she gave me the slip, while I went to speak to you for her +good; and I call it a dirty trick, saving your presence. I told her I'd +be back in a moment." + +"Oh, it is not her doing, you may be sure; it is the young gentleman. He +saw a chance to get her alone, and of course he took it. I am not +very well pleased; but I suppose she knows her own mind. It is to be a +marriage, no doubt." He smoothed it over, but was a little put out, +and stalked away without another word: he had said enough to put Jael's +bosom in a flutter, and open a bright prospect to her heart; Miss +Carden once disposed of in marriage, what might she not hope? She now +reflected, with honest pride, that she had merited Henry's love by rare +unselfishness. She had advised him loyally, had even co-operated with +him as far as any poor girl, with her feelings for him, could do; and +now Mr. Coventry was going to propose marriage to her rival, and she +believed Miss Carden would say "yes," though she could not in her heart +believe that even Miss Carden did not prefer the other. "Ay, lad," said +she, "if I am to win thee, I'll be able to say I won thee fair." + +These sweet thoughts and hopes soon removed her temporary anger, and +nothing remained to dash the hopeful joy that warmed that large and +loyal heart this afternoon, except a gentle misgiving that Mr. Coventry +might make Grace a worse husband than she deserved. It was thus she read +the magpie, from three o'clock till six that afternoon. + +When a man and a woman do any thing wrong, it is amusing to hear the +judgments of other men and women thereupon. The men all blame the man, +and the women all the woman. That is judgment, is it not? + +But in some cases our pitch-farthing judgments must be either heads or +tails; so Mr. Raby, who had cried heads, when a Mrs. Raby would have +cried "woman," was right; it WAS Mr. Coventry, and not Miss Carden, who +leaned over to George, and whispered, "A sovereign, to drive on without +her! Make some excuse." + +The cunning Yorkshire groom's eye twinkled at this, and he remained +passive a minute or two: then, said suddenly, with well-acted fervor, "I +can't keep the pony waiting in the cold, like this;" applied the +whip, and rattled off with such decision, that Grace did not like +to interfere, especially as George was known to be one of those hard +masters, an old servant. + +So, by this little ruse, Mr. Coventry had got her all to himself for the +afternoon. And now she felt sure he would propose that very day. + +She made no movement whatever either to advance or to avoid the +declaration. + +It is five miles from Raby Hall, through Cairnhope village, to the +eastern foot of Cairnhope; and while George rattles them over the hard +and frosty road, I will tell the reader something about this young +gentleman, who holds the winning cards. + +Mr. Frederick Coventry was a man of the world. He began life with a good +estate, and a large fund accumulated during his minority. + +He spent all the money in learning the world at home and abroad; and, +when it was all gone, he opened one eye. + +But, as a man cannot see very clear with a single orb, he exchanged +rouge-et-noir, etc., for the share-market, and, in other respects, lived +as fast as ever, till he had mortgaged his estate rather heavily. Then +he began to open both eyes. + +Next, he fell in love with Grace Carden; and upon that he opened both +eyes very wide, and wished very much he had his time to live over again. + +Nevertheless, he was not much to be pitied. He had still an estate +which, with due care, could pay off its incumbrances; and he had +gathered some valuable knowledge. He knew women better than most men, +and he knew whist profoundly. Above all, he had acquired what Voltaire +justly calls "le grand art de plaire;" he had studied this art, as many +women study it, and few men. Why, he even watched the countenance, and +smoothed the rising bristles of those he wished to please, or did not +wish to displease. This was the easier to him that he had no strong +convictions on any great topic. It is your plaguy convictions that make +men stubborn and disagreeable. + +A character of this kind is very susceptible, either of good or evil +influences; and his attachment to Grace Carden was turning him the right +way. + +Add to this a good figure and a distinguished air, and you have some +superficial idea of the gentleman toward whom Grace Carden found herself +drawn by circumstances, and not unwillingly, though not with that sacred +joy and thrill which marks a genuine passion. + + +They left George and the trap at the "Colley Dog," and ascended the +mountain. There were no serious difficulties on this side; but still +there were little occasional asperities, that gave the lover an +opportunity to offer his arm; and Mr. Coventry threw a graceful +devotion even into this slight act of homage. He wooed her with perfect +moderation at first; it was not his business to alarm her at starting; +he proceeded gradually; and, by the time they had reached the summit, he +had felt his way, and had every reason to hope she would accept him. + +At the summit the remarkable beauty of the view threw her into raptures, +and interrupted the more interesting topic on which he was bent. + +But the man of the world showed no impatience (I don't say he felt +none); he answered all Grace's questions, and told her what all the +places were. + +But, by-and-by, the atmosphere thickened suddenly in that quarter, and +he then told her gently he had something to show her on the other side +of the knob. + +He conducted her to a shed the shepherds had erected, and seated her on +a rude bench. "You must be a little tired," he said. + +Then he showed her, in the valley, one of those delightful old red brick +houses, with white stone facings. "That is Bollinghope." + +She looked at it with polite interest. + +"Do you like it?" + +"Very much. It warms the landscape so." + +He expected a more prosaic answer; but he took her cue. "I wish it was +a great deal prettier than it is, and its owner a much better man; +richer--wiser--" + +"You are hard to please, Mr. Coventry." + +"Miss Carden--Grace--may I call you Grace?" + +"It seems to me you have done it." + +"But I had no right." + +"Then, of course, you will never do it again." + +"I should be very unhappy if I thought that. Miss Carden, I think you +know how dear you are to me, and have been ever since I first met you. I +wish I had ten times more to offer you than I have. But I am only a poor +gentleman, of good descent, but moderate means, as you see." Comedie! +(Bollinghope was the sort of house that generally goes with L5000 a year +at least.) + +"I don't care about your means, Mr. Coventry," said Grace, with a lofty +smile. "It is your amiable character that I esteem." + +"You forgive me for loving you; for hoping that you will let me lead you +to my poor house there, as my adored wife?" + +It had come; and, although she knew it was coming, yet her face was dyed +with blushes. + +"I esteem you very much," she faltered. "I thank you for the honor you +do me; but I--oh, pray, let me think what I am doing." She covered her +face with her hands, and her bosom panted visibly. + +Mr. Coventry loved her sincerely, and his own heart beat high at +this moment. He augured well from her agitation; but presently he saw +something that puzzled him, and gave a man of his experience a qualm. + +A tear forced its way between her fingers; another, and another, soon +followed. + +Coventry said to himself, "There's some other man." And he sighed +heavily; but even in this moment of true and strong feeling he was on +his guard, and said nothing. + +It was his wisest course. She was left to herself, and an amazing piece +of female logic came to Mr. Coventry's aid. She found herself crying, +and got frightened at herself. That, which would have made a man pause, +had just the opposite effect on her. She felt that no good could come to +any body of those wild and weak regrets that made her weep. She saw she +had a weakness and a folly to cure herself of; and the cure was at hand. +There was a magic in marriage; a gentleman could, somehow, MAKE a girl +love him when once she had married him. Mr. Coventry should be enabled +to make her love him; he should cure her of this trick of crying; it +would be the best thing for every body--for HIM, for Jael, for Mr. +Coventry, and even for herself. + +She dried her eyes, and said, in a low, tremulous voice: "Have you +spoken to papa of--of this?" + +"No. I waited to be authorized by you. May I speak to him?" + +"Yes." + +"May I tell him--?" + +"Oh I can't tell you what to tell him. How dark it is getting. Please +take me home." Another tear or two. + +Then, if Coventry had not loved her sincerely, and also been a man of +the world, he would have lost his temper; and if he had lost his temper, +he would have lost the lady, for she would have seized the first fair +opportunity to quarrel. But no, he took her hand gently, and set himself +to comfort her. He poured out his love to her, and promised her a life +of wedded happiness. He drew so delightful a picture of their wedded +life, and in a voice so winning, that she began to be consoled, and her +tears ceased. + +"I believe you love me," she murmured; "and I esteem you sincerely." + +Mr. Coventry drew a family ring from his pocket. It was a sapphire of +uncommon beauty. + +"This was my mother's," said he. "Will you do me the honor to wear it, +as a pledge?" + +But the actual fetter startled her, I think. She started up, and said, +"Oh, please take me home first! IT IS GOING TO SNOW." + +Call her slippery, if you don't like her; call her unhappy and wavering, +if you do like her. + +Mr. Coventry smiled now at this attempt to put off the inevitable, and +complied at once. + +But, before they had gone a hundred yards, the snow did really fall, and +so heavily that the air was darkened. + +"We had better go back to the shed till it is over," said Mr. Coventry. + +"Do you think so?" said Grace, doubtfully. "Well." + +And they went back. + +But the snow did not abate, and the air got darker. So, by-and-by, Grace +suggested that Mr. Coventry should run down the hill, and send George up +to her with an umbrella. + +"What, and leave you alone?" said he. + +"Well, then, we had better go together." + +They started together. + +By this time the whole ground was covered about three inches deep; not +enough to impede their progress; but it had the unfortunate effect of +effacing the distinct features of the ground; and, as the declining sun +could no longer struggle successfully through the atmosphere, which was +half air, half snow, they were almost in darkness, and soon lost their +way. They kept slanting unconsciously to the left, till they got over +one of the forks of the mountain and into a ravine: they managed to get +out of that, and continued to descend; for the great thing they had to +do was to reach the valley, no matter where. + +But, after a long laborious, and even dangerous descent, they found +themselves beginning to ascend. Another mountain or hill barred their +progress. Then they knew they must be all wrong, and began to feel +rather anxious. They wished they had stayed up on the hill. + +They consulted together, and agreed to go on for the present; it might +be only a small rise in the ground. + +And so it proved. After a while they found themselves descending again. + +But now the path was full of pitfalls, hidden by the snow and the +darkness. + +Mr. Coventry insisted on going first. + +In this order they moved cautiously on, often stumbling. + +Suddenly Mr. Coventry disappeared with a sudden plunge, and rolled down +a ravine, with a loud cry. + +Grace stood transfixed with terror. + +Then she called to him. + +There was no answer. + +She called again. + +A faint voice replied that he was not much hurt, and would try to get +back to her. + +This, however, was impossible, and all he could do was to scramble along +the bottom of the ravine. + +Grace kept on the high ground, and they called to each other every +moment. They seemed to be a long way from each other; yet they were +never sixty yards apart. At last the descent moderated, and Grace +rejoined him. + +Then they kept in the hollow for some time, but at last found another +acclivity to mount: they toiled up it, laden with snow, yet perspiring +profusely with the exertion of toiling uphill through heather clogged +with heavy snow. + +They reached the summit, and began to descend again. But now their +hearts began to quake. Men had been lost on Cairnhope before to-day, +and never found alive: and they were lost on Cairnhope; buried in the +sinuosities of the mountain, and in a tremendous snowstorm. + +They wandered and staggered, sick at heart; since each step might be for +the worse. + +They wandered and staggered, miserably; and the man began to sigh, and +the woman to cry. + +At last they were so exhausted, they sat down in despair: and, in a few +minutes, they were a couple of snow-heaps. + +Mr. Coventry was the first to see all the danger they ran by this +course. + +"For God's sake, let us go on!" he said; "if we once get benumbed, we +are lost. We MUST keep moving, till help comes to us." + +Then they staggered, and stumbled on again, till they both sank into a +deep snow-drift. + +They extricated themselves, but, oh, when they felt that deep cold snow +all round them, it was a foretaste of the grave. + +The sun had set, it was bitterly cold, and still the enormous flakes +fell, and doubled the darkness of the night. + +They staggered and stumbled on, not now with any hope of extricating +themselves from the fatal mountain, but merely to keep the blood alive +in their veins. And, when they were exhausted, they sat down, and soon +were heaps of snow. + +While they sat thus, side by side, thinking no more of love, or any +other thing but this: should they ever see the sun rise, or sit by a +fireside again? suddenly they heard a sound in the air behind them, and, +in a moment, what seemed a pack of hounds in full cry passed close over +their heads. + +They uttered a loud cry. + +"We are saved!" cried Grace. "Mr. Raby is hunting us with his dogs. That +was the echo." + +Coventry groaned. "What scent would lie?" said he. "Those hounds were in +the air; a hundred strong." + +Neither spoke for a moment, and then it was Grace who broke the terrible +silence. + +"THE GABRIEL HOUNDS!" + +"The Gabriel hounds; that run before calamity! Mr. Coventry, there's +nothing to be done now, but to make our peace with God. For you are a +dead man, and I'm a dead woman. My poor papa! poor Mr. Little!" + +She kneeled down on the snow, and prayed patiently, and prepared to +deliver up her innocent soul to Him who gave it. + +Not so her companion. He writhed away from death. He groaned, he sighed, +he cursed, he complained. What was Raby thinking of, to let them perish? + +Presently he shouted out--"I'll not die this dog's death, I will not. +I'll save myself, and come back for you." + +The girl prayed on, and never heeded him. + +But he was already on his feet, and set off to run: and he actually +did go blundering on for a furlong and more, and fell into a +mountain-stream, swollen by floods, which whirled him along with it like +a feather, it was not deep enough to drown him by submersion, but +it rolled him over and over again, and knocked him against rocks and +stones, and would infallibly have destroyed him, but that a sudden sharp +turn in the current drove him, at last, against a projecting tree, which +he clutched, and drew himself out with infinite difficulty. But when he +tried to walk, his limbs gave way; and he sank fainting on the ground, +and the remorseless snow soon covered his prostrate body. + +All this time, Grace Carden was kneeling on the snow, and was, literally +a heap of snow. She was patient and composed now, and felt a gentle +sleep stealing over. + +That sleep would have been her death. + +But, all of a sudden something heavy touched her clothes, and startled +her, and two dark objects passed her. + +They were animals. + +In a moment it darted through her mind that animals are wiser than +man in some things. She got up with difficulty, for her limbs were +stiffened, and followed them. + +The dark forms struggled on before. They knew the ground, and soon took +her to the edge of that very stream into which Coventry had fallen. + +They all three went within a yard of Mr. Coventry, and still they +pursued their way; and Grace hoped they were making for some shelter. +She now called aloud to Mr. Coventry, thinking he must be on before her. +But he had not recovered his senses. + +Unfortunately, the cry startled the sheep, and they made a rush, and +she could not keep up with them: she toiled, she called, she prayed for +strength; but they left her behind, and she could see their very forms +no more. Then she cried out in agony, and still, with that power +of self-excitement, which her sex possess in an eminent degree, she +struggled on and on, beyond her strength till, at last, she fell down +from sheer exhaustion, and the snow fell fast upon her body. + +But, even as she lay, she heard a tinkling. She took it for sheep-bells, +and started up once more, and once more cried to Mr. Coventry; and +this time he heard her, and shook off his deadly lethargy, and tried to +hobble toward her voice. + +Meantime, Grace struggled toward the sound, and lo, a light was before +her, a light gleaming red and dullish in the laden atmosphere. With her +remnant of life and strength, she dashed at it, and found a wall in her +way. She got over it somehow, and saw the light quite close, and heard +the ringing of steel on steel. + +She cried out for help, for she felt herself failing. She tottered along +the wall of the building, searching for a door. She found the porch. She +found the church door. But by this time she was quite spent; her senses +reeled; her cry was a moan. + +She knocked once with her hands. She tried to knock again; but the +door flew suddenly open, and, in the vain endeavor to knock again, her +helpless body, like a pillar of snow, fell forward; but Henry Little +caught her directly, and then she clutched him feebly, by mere instinct. + +He uttered a cry of love and alarm. She opened her filmy eyes, and +stared at him. Her cold neck and white cheek rested on his bare and +glowing arm. + + +The moment he saw it was really Grace Carden that had fallen inanimate +into his arms, Henry Little uttered a loud cry of love and terror, and, +putting his other sinewy arm under her, carried her swiftly off to his +fires, uttering little moans of fear and pity as he went; he laid her +down by the fire, and darted to the forge, and blew it to a white heat; +and then darted back to her, and kissed her cold hands with pretty moans +of love; and then blew up the other fires; and then back to her, and +patted her hands, and kissed them with all his soul, and drew them to +his bosom to warm them; and drew her head to his heart to warm her; and +all with pretty moans of love, and fear, and pity; and the tears rained +out of his eyes at sight of her helpless condition, and the tears +fell upon her brow and her hands; and all this vitality and love soon +electrified her; she opened her eyes, and smiled faintly, but such a +smile, and murmured, "It's you," and closed her eyes again. + +Then he panted out, "Yes, it is I,--a friend. I won't hurt you--I won't +tell you how I love you any more--only live! Don't give way. You shall +marry who you like. You shall never be thwarted, nor worried, nor made +love to again; only be brave and live; don't rob the world of the only +angel that is in it. Have mercy, and live! I'll never ask more of you +than that. Oh, how pale! I am frightened. Cursed fires, have you no +warmth IN you?" And he was at the bellows again. And the next moment +back to her, imploring her, and sighing over her, and saying the +wildest, sweetest, drollest things, such as only those who love can say, +in moments when hearts are bursting. + +How now? Her cheek that was so white is pink--pinker--red--scarlet. She +is blushing. + +She had closed her eyes at love's cries. Perhaps she was not altogether +unwilling to hear that divine music of the heart, so long as she was not +bound to reply and remonstrate--being insensible. + +But now she speaks, faintly, but clearly, "Don't he frightened. I +promise not to die. Pray don't cry so." Then she put out her hand +to him, and turned her head away, and cried herself, gently, but +plenteously. + +Henry, kneeling by her, clasped the hand she lent him with both his, and +drew it to his panting heart in ecstasy. + +Grace's cheeks were rosy red. + +They remained so a little while in silence. + +Henry's heart was too full of beatitude to speak. He drew her a little +nearer to the glowing fires, to revive her quite; but still kneeled by +her, and clasped her hand to his heart. She felt it beat, and turned her +blushing brow away, but made no resistance: she was too weak. + +"Halloo!" cried a new voice, that jarred with the whole scene; and Mr. +Coventry hobbled in sight. He gazed in utter amazement on the picture +before him. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + +Grace snatched her hand from Henry, and raised herself with a vigor that +contrasted with her late weakness. "Oh, it is Mr. Coventry. How wicked +of me to forget him for a moment. Thank Heaven you are alive. Where have +you been?" + +"I fell into the mountain stream, and it rolled me down, nearly to here. +I think I must have fainted on the bank. I found myself lying covered +with snow; it was your beloved voice that recalled me to life." + +Henry turned yellow, and rose to his feet. + +Grace observed him, and replied, "Oh, Mr. Coventry, this is too +high-flown. Let us both return thanks to the Almighty, who has preserved +us, and, in the next place, to Mr. Little: we should both be dead but +for him." Then, before he could reply, she turned to Little, and said, +beseechingly, "Mr. Coventry has been the companion of my danger." + +"Oh, I'll do the best I can for him," said Henry, doggedly. "Draw nearer +the fire, sir." He then put some coal on the forge, and blew up an +amazing fire: he also gave the hand-bellows to Mr. Coventry, and set him +to blow at the small grates in the mausoleum. He then produced a pair of +woolen stockings. "Now, Miss Carden," said he, "just step into that pew, +if you please, and make a dressing-room of it." + +She demurred, faintly, but he insisted, and put her into the great pew, +and shut her in. + +"And now, please take off your shoes and stockings, and hand them over +the pew to me." + +"Oh, Mr. Little: you are giving yourself so much trouble." + +"Nonsense. Do what you are bid." He said this a little roughly. + +"I'll do whatever YOU bid me," said she, meekly: and instantly took off +her dripping shoes, and stockings, and handed them over the pew. She +received, in return, a nice warm pair of worsted stockings. + +"Put on these directly," said he, "while I warm your shoes." + +He dashed all the wet he could out of the shoes, and, taking them to the +forge, put hot cinders in: he shook the cinders up and down the shoes +so quickly, they had not time to burn, but only to warm and dry them. He +advised Coventry to do the same, and said he was sorry he had only one +pair of stockings to lend. And that was a lie: for he was glad he had +only one pair to lend. When he had quite dried the shoes, he turned +round, and found Grace was peeping over the pew, and looking intolerably +lovely in the firelight. He kissed the shoes furtively, and gave them to +her. She shook her head in a remonstrating way, but her eyes filled. + +He turned away, and, rousing all his generous manhood, said, "Now you +must both eat something, before you go." He produced a Yorkshire pie, +and some bread, and a bottle of wine. He gave Mr. Coventry a saucepan, +and set him to heat the wine; then turned up his sleeves to the +shoulder, blew his bellows, and, with his pincers, took a lath of steel +and placed it in the white embers. "I have only got one knife, and you +won't like to eat with that. I must forge you one apiece." + +Then Grace came out, and stood looking on, while he forged knives, like +magic, before the eyes of his astonished guests. Her feet were now as +warm as a toast, and her healthy young body could resist all the rest. +She stood, with her back to the nearest pew, and her hands against +the pew too, and looked with amazement, and dreamy complacency, at the +strange scene before her: a scene well worthy of Salvator Rosa; though, +in fact, that painter never had the luck to hit on so variegated a +subject. + +Three broad bands of light shot from the fires, expanding in size, but +weakening in intensity. These lights, and the candles at the west +end, revealed in a strange combination the middle ages, the nineteenth +century, and eternal nature. + +Nature first. Snow gleaming on the windows. Oh, it was cozy to see it +gleam and sparkle, and to think "Aha! you all but killed me; now King +Fire warms both thee and me." Snow-flakes, of enormous size, softly +descending, and each appearing a diamond brooch, as it passed through +the channels of fiery light. + +The middle ages. Massive old arches, chipped, and stained; a moldering +altar-piece, dog's-eared (Henry had nailed it up again all but the top +corner, and in it still faintly gleamed the Virgin's golden crown). +Pulpit, richly carved, but moldering: gaunt walls, streaked and stained +by time. At the west end, one saint--the last of many--lit by two +candles, and glowing ruby red across the intervening gulf of blackness: +on the nearest wall an inscription, that still told, in rusty letters, +how Giles de la Beche had charged his lands with six merks a year +forever, to buy bread and white watered herrings, the same to be brought +into Cairnhope Church every Sunday in Lent, and given to two poor men +and four women; and the same on Good Friday with a penny dole, and, on +that day, the clerk to toll the bell at three of the clock after noon, +and read the lamentation of a sinner, and receive one groat. + +Ancient monuments, sculptures with here an arm gone, and here a head, +that yet looked half-alive in the weird and partial light. + +And between one of those mediaeval sculptures, and that moldering +picture of the Virgin, stood a living horse, munching his corn; and in +the foreground was a portable forge, a mausoleum turned into fires and +hot plate, and a young man, type of his century, forging table-knives +amidst the wrecks of another age. + +When Grace had taken in the whole scene with wonder, her eye was +absorbed by this one figure, a model of manly strength, and skill, and +grace. How lightly he stepped: how easily his left arm blew the coals to +a white heat, with blue flames rising from them. How deftly he drew out +the white steel. With what tremendous force his first blows fell, +and scattered hot steel around. Yet all that force was regulated to a +hair--he beat, he molded, he never broke. Then came the lighter blows; +and not one left the steel as it found it. In less than a minute the bar +was a blade, it was work incredibly unlike his method in carving; yet, +at a glance, Grace saw it was also perfection, but in an opposite style. +In carving, the hand of a countess; in forging, a blacksmith's arm. + +She gazed with secret wonder and admiration; and the comparison was to +the disadvantage of Mr. Coventry; for he sat shivering, and the other +seemed all power. And women adore power. + +When Little had forged the knives and forks, and two deep saucers, with +magical celerity, he plunged them into water a minute, and they hissed; +he sawed off the rim of a pew, and fitted handles. + +Then he washed his face and hands, and made himself dry and glowing; +let down his sleeves, and served them some Yorkshire pie, and bread, and +salt, and stirred a little sugar into the wine, and poured it into the +saucers. + +"Now eat a bit, both of you, before you go." + +Mr. Coventry responded at once to the invitation. + +But Grace said, timidly, "Yes, if you will eat with us." + +"No, no," said he. "I've not been perished with snow, nor rolled in a +river." + +Grace hesitated still; but Coventry attacked the pie directly. It was +delicious. "By Jove, sir," said he, "you are the prince of blacksmiths." + +"Blacksmiths!" said Grace, coloring high. But Little only smiled +satirically. + +Grace, who was really faint with hunger, now ate a little; and then the +host made her sip some wine. + +The food and wine did Mr. Coventry so much good, that he began to +recover his superiority, and expressed his obligations to Henry in a +tone which was natural, and not meant to be offensive; but yet, it +was so, under all the circumstances: there was an underlying tone of +condescension, it made Grace fear he would offer Henry his purse at +leaving. + +Henry himself writhed under it; but said nothing. Grace, however, saw +his ire, his mortification, and his jealousy in his face, and that +irritated her; but she did not choose to show either of the men how much +it angered her. + +She was in a most trying situation, and all the woman's wit and tact +were keenly on their guard. + +What she did was this; she did not utter one word of remonstrance, but +she addressed most of her remarks to Mr. Little; and, though the remarks +were nothing in themselves, she contrived to throw profound respect into +them. Indeed, she went beyond respect. She took the tone of an inferior +addressing a superior. + +This was nicely calculated to soothe Henry, and also to make Coventry, +who was a man of tact, change his own manner. + +Nor was it altogether without that effect. But then it annoyed Coventry, +and made him wish to end it. + +After a while he said, "My dear Grace, it can't be far from Raby Hall. I +think you had better let me take you home at once." + +Grace colored high, and bit her lip. + +Henry was green with jealous anguish. + +"Are you quite recovered yourself?" said Grace, demurely, to Mr. +Coventry. + +"Quite; thanks to this good fellow's hospitality." + +"Then WOULD you mind going to Raby, and sending some people for me? I +really feel hardly equal to fresh exertion just yet." + +This proposal brought a flush of pleasure to Henry's cheek, and +mortified Mr. Coventry cruelly in his turn. + +"What, go and leave you here? Surely you can not be serious." + +"Oh, I don't wish you to leave me. Only you seemed in a hurry." + +Henry was miserable again. + +Coventry did not let well alone, he alluded delicately but tenderly to +what had passed between them, and said he could not bear her out of his +sight until she was safe at Raby. The words and the tone were those of a +lover, and Henry was in agony: thereupon Grace laughed it off, "Not bear +me out of your sight!" said she. "Why, you ran away from me, and tumbled +into the river. Ha! ha! ha! And" (very seriously) "we should both be in +another world but for Mr. Little." + +"You are very cruel," said Mr. Coventry. "When you gave up in despair, I +ran for help. You punish me for failure; punish me savagely." + +"Yes, I was ungenerous," said Grace. "Forgive me." But she said it +rather coolly, and not with a very penitent air. + +She added an explanation more calculated to please Henry than him. "Your +gallantry is always graceful; and it is charming, in a drawing-room; but +in this wild place, and just after escaping the grave, let us talk like +sensible people. If you and I set out for Raby Hall alone, we shall lose +our way again, and perish, to a certainty. But I think Mr. Little must +know the way to Raby Hall." + +"Oh, then," said Coventry, catching at her idea, "perhaps Mr. Little +would add to the great obligation, under which he has laid us both, by +going to Raby Hall and sending assistance hither." + +"I can't do that," said Henry, roughly. + +"And that is not at all what I was going to propose," said Grace, +quietly. "But perhaps you would be so good as to go with us to Raby +Hall? Then I should feel safe; and I want Mr. Raby to thank you, for I +feel how cold and unmeaning all I have said to you is; I seem to have no +words." Her voice faltered, and her sweet eyes filled. + +"Miss Carden," said the young man, gravely, "I can't do that. Mr. Raby +is no friend of mine, and he is a bigoted old man, who would turn me out +of this place if he knew. Come, now, when you talk about gratitude to me +for not letting you be starved to death, you make me blush. Is there a +man in the world that wouldn't? But this I do say; it would be rather +hard if you two were to go away, and cut my throat in return; and, if +you open your mouths ever so little, either of you, you WILL cut my +throat. Why, ask yourselves, have I set up my workshop in such a place +as this--by choice? It takes a stout heart to work here, I can tell you, +and a stout heart to sleep here over dead bones." + +"I see it all. The Trades Unions!" + +"That is it. So, now, there are only two ways. You must promise me never +to breathe a word to any living soul, or I must give up my livelihood, +and leave the country." + +"What can not you trust me? Oh, Mr. Little!" + +"No, no; it's this gentleman. He is a stranger to me, you know; and, you +see, my life may be at stake, as well as my means." + +"Mr. Coventry is a gentleman, and a man of honor. He is incapable of +betraying you." + +"I should hope so," said Coventry. "I pledge you the word of a gentleman +I will never let any human creature know that you are working here." + +"Give me your hand on that, if you please." + +Coventry gave him his hand with warmth and evident sincerity. + +Young Little was reassured. "Come," said he, "I feel I can trust +you both. And, sir, Miss Carden will tell you what happened to me in +Cheetham's works; and then you will understand what I risk upon your +honor." + +"I accept the responsibility; and I thank you for giving me this +opportunity to show you how deeply I feel indebted to you." + +"That is square enough. Well, now my mind is at ease about that, I'll +tell you what I'll do; I won't take you quite to Raby Hall; but I'll +take you so near to it, you can't miss it; and then I'll go back to my +work." + +He sighed deeply at the lonely prospect, and Grace heard him. + +"Come," said he, almost violently, and led the way out of church. But he +stayed behind to lock the door, and then joined them. + +They all three went together, Grace in the middle. + +There was now but little snow falling, and the air was not so thick; but +it was most laborious walking, and soon Mr. Coventry, who was stiff and +in pain, fell a little behind, and groaned as he hobbled on. + +Grace whispered to Henry: "Be generous. He has hurt himself so." + +This made Henry groan in return. But he said nothing. He just turned +back to Coventry--"You can't get on without help, sir; lean on me." + +The act was friendly, the tone surly. Coventry accepted the act, and +noted the tone in his memory. + +When Grace had done this, she saw Henry misunderstood it, and she was +sorry, and waited an opportunity to restore the balance; but, ere one +came, a bell was heard in the air; the great alarm-bell of Raby Hall. + +Then faint voices were heard of people calling to each other here and +there in the distance. + +"What is it?" asked Grace. + +Henry replied, "What should it be? The whole country is out after you. +Mr Raby has sense enough for that." + +"Oh, I hope they will not see the light in the church, and find you +out." + +"You are very good to think of that. Ah! There's a bonfire: and here +comes a torch. I must go and quench my fires. Good-by, Miss Carden. +Good-evening, sir." + +With this, he retired: but, as he went, he sighed. + +Grace said to Coventry, "Oh, I forgot to ask him a question;" and ran +after him. "Mr. Little!" + +He heard and came back to her. + +She was violently agitated. "I can't leave you so," she said. "Give me +your hand." + +He gave it to her. + +"I mortified you; and you have saved me." She took his hand, and, +holding it gently in both her little palms, sobbed out,--"Oh, think of +something I can do, to show my gratitude, my esteem. Pray, pray, pray." + +"Wait two years for me." + +"Oh, not that. I don't mean that." + +"That or nothing. In two years, I'll be as good a gentleman as HE is. +I'm not risking my life in that church, for nothing. If you have one +grain of pity or esteem for me, wait two years." + +"Incurable!" she murmured: but he was gone. + +Coventry heard the prayer. That was loud and earnest enough. Her reply +he could not bear. + +She rejoined him, and the torch came rapidly forward. + +It was carried by a lass, with her gown pinned nearly to her knees, and +displaying grand and powerful limbs; she was crying, like the tenderest +woman, and striding through the snow, like a young giant. + + +When the snow first came down, Mr. Raby merely ordered large fires to +be lighted and fed in his guests' bedrooms; he feared nothing worse for +them than a good wetting. + +When dinner-time came, without them, he began to be anxious, and sent a +servant to the little public-house, to inquire if they were there. + +The servant had to walk through the snow, and had been gone about an +hour, and Mr. Raby was walking nervously up and down the hall, when Jael +Dence burst in at the front door, as white as a sheet, and gasped out in +his face: "THE GABRIEL HOUNDS!!" + +Raby ran out directly, and sure enough, that strange pack were passing +in full cry over the very house. It was appalling. He was dumb with awe +for a moment. Then he darted into the kitchen and ordered them to +ring the great alarm-bell incessantly; then into the yard, and sent +messengers to the village, and to all his tenants, and in about an +hour there were fifty torches, and as many sheep-bells, directed upon +Cairnhope hill; and, as men and boys came in from every quarter, to know +why Raby's great alarm-bell was ringing, they were armed with torches +and sent up Cairnhope. + +At last the servant returned from "The Colley Dog," with the alarming +tidings that Miss Carden and Mr. Coventry had gone up the hill, and +never returned. This, however, was hardly news. The Gabriel hounds +always ran before calamity. + +At about eleven o'clock, there being still no news of them, Jael Dence +came to Mr. Raby wringing her hands. "Why do all the men go east for +them?" + +"Because they are on the east side." + +"How can ye tell that? They have lost their way." + +"I am afraid so," groaned Raby. + +"Then why do you send all the men as if they hadn't lost their way? East +side of Cairnhope! why that is where they ought to be, but it is not +where they are, man." + +"You are a good girl, and I'm a fool," cried Raby. "Whoever comes in +after this, I'll send them up by the old church." + +"Give me a torch, and I'll run myself." + +"Ay, do, and I'll put on my boots, and after you." + +Then Jael got a torch, and kilted her gown to her knees, and went +striding through the snow with desperate vigor, crying as she went, for +her fear was great and her hope was small, from the moment she heard the +Gabriel hounds. + +Owing to the torch, Grace saw her first, and uttered a little scream; a +loud scream of rapture replied: the torch went anywhere, and gentle and +simple were locked in each other's arms, Jael sobbing for very joy after +terror, and Grace for sympathy, and also because she wanted to cry, on +more accounts than one. + +Another torch came on, and Jael cried triumphantly, "This way, Squire. +She is here!" and kissed her violently again. + +Mr. Raby came up, and took her in his arms, without a word, being broken +with emotion: and, after he had shaken Coventry by both hands, they all +turned homeward, and went so fast that Coventry gave in with a groan. + +Then Grace told Jael what had befallen him, and just then another torch +came in, held by George the blacksmith, who, at sight of the party, +uttered a stentorian cheer, and danced upon the snow. + +"Behave, now," said Jael, "and here's the gentleman sore hurt in the +river; Geordie, come and make a chair with me." + +George obeyed and put out his hands, with the fingers upward, Jael did +the same, with the fingers downward: they took hands, and, putting their +stalwart arms under Coventry, told him to fling an arm round each of +their necks: he did so, and up he went; he was no more than a feather to +this pair, the strongest man and woman in Cairnhope. + +As they went along, he told them his adventure in the stream, and, when +they heard it, they ejaculated to each other, and condoled with him +kindly, and assured him he was alive by a miracle. + +They reached Raby, and, in the great hall, the Squire collected his +people and gave his orders. "Stop the bell. Broach a barrel of ale, +and keep open house, so long as malt, and bacon, and cheese last. Turn +neither body nor beast from my door this night, or may God shut His gate +in your faces. Here are two guineas, George, to ring the church-bells, +you and your fellows; but sup here first. Cans of hot water upstairs, +for us. Lay supper, instead of dinner; brew a bowl of punch. Light all +the Yule candles, as if it was Christmas eve. But first down on your +knees, all of ye, whilst I thank God, who has baffled those Gabriel +Hell-hounds for once, and saved a good man and a bonny lass from a dog's +death." + +They all went down on their knees, on the marble floor, directly, and +the Squire uttered a few words of hearty thanksgiving, and there was +scarcely a dry eye. + +Then the guests went upstairs, and had their hot baths, and changed +their clothes, and came down to supper in the blazing room. + +Whilst they were at supper, the old servant who waited on them said +something in a low voice to his master. He replied that he would speak +to the man in the hall. + +As soon as he was gone, Miss Carden said in French, "Did you hear that?" + +"No." + +"Well, I did. Now, mind your promise. We shall have to fib. You had +better say nothing. Let me speak for you; ladies fib so much better than +gentlemen." + +Mr. Raby came back, and Grace waited to see if he would tell her. +I don't think he intended to, at first: but he observed her eyes +inquiring, and said, "One of the men, who was out after you tonight, has +brought in word there is a light in Cairnhope old church." + +"Do you believe it?" + +"No. But it is a curious thing; a fortnight ago (I think, I told you) a +shepherd brought me the same story. He had seen the church on fire; at +least he said so. But mark the paralyzing effect of superstition. My +present informant no sooner saw this light--probably a reflection from +one of the distant torches--than he coolly gave up searching for you. +'They are dead,' says he, 'and the spirits in the old church are saying +mass for their souls. I'll go to supper.' So he came here to drink my +ale, and tell his cock-and-bull story." + +Grace put in her word with a sweet, candid face. "Sir, if there had been +a light in that church, should we not have seen it?" + +"Why, of course you would: you must have been within a hundred yards of +it in your wanderings. I never thought of that." + +Grace breathed again. + +"However, we shall soon know. I have sent George and another man right +up to the church to look. It is quite clear now." + +Grace felt very anxious, but she forced on a careless air. "And suppose, +after all, there should be a light?" + +"Then George has his orders to come back and tell me; if there is a +light, it is no ghost nor spirit, but some smuggler, or poacher, or +vagrant, who is desecrating that sacred place; and I shall turn out with +fifty men, and surround the church, and capture the scoundrel, and make +an example of him." + +Grace turned cold and looked at Mr. Coventry. She surprised a twinkle of +satisfaction in his eye. She never forgot it. + +She sat on thorns, and was so distraite she could hardly answer the +simplest question. + +At last, after an hour of cruel suspense, the servant came in, and said, +"George is come back, sir." + +"Oh, please let him come in here, and tell us." + +"By all means. Send him in." + +George appeared, the next moment, in the doorway. "Well?" said Mr. Raby. + +"Well?" said Grace, pale, but self-possessed. + +"Well," said George, sulkily, "it is all a lie. Th' old church is as +black as my hat." + +"I thought as much," said Mr. Raby. "There, go and get your supper." + +Soon after this Grace went up to bed, and Jael came to her, and they +talked by the fire while she was curling her hair. She was in high +spirits, and Jael eyed her with wonder and curiosity. + +"But, miss," said Jael, "the magpie was right. Oh, the foul bird! That's +the only bird that wouldn't go into the ark with Noah and his folk." + +"Indeed! I was not aware of the circumstance." + +"'Twas so, miss; and I know the reason. A very old woman told me." + +"She must have been very old indeed, to be an authority on that subject. +Well, what was the reason?" + +"She liked better to perch on the roof of th' ark, and jabber over the +drowning world; that was why. So, ever after that, when a magpie flies +across, turn back, or look to meet ill-luck." + +"That is to say the worst creatures are stronger than their Creator, +and can bring us bad luck against His will. And you call yourself a +Christian? Why this is Paganism. They were frightened at ravens, and you +at magpies. A fig for your magpies! and another for your Gabriel hounds! +God is high above them all." + +"Ay, sure; but these are signs of His will. Trouble and all comes from +God. And so, whenever you see a magpie, or hear those terrible hounds--" + +"Then tremble! for it is all to end in a bowl of punch, and a roaring +fire; and Mr. Raby, that passes for a Tartar, being so kind to me; and +me being in better spirits than I have been for ever so long." + +"Oh, miss!" + +"And oh, miss, to you. Why, what is the matter? I have been in danger! +Very well; am I the first? I have had an adventure! All the better. +Besides, it has shown me what good hearts there are in the world, yours +amongst the rest." (Kissing her.) "Now don't interrupt, but listen to +the words of the wise and their dark sayings. Excitement is a blessing. +Young ladies need it more than anybody. Half the foolish things we do, +it is because the old people are so stupid and don't provide us enough +innocent excitement. Dancing till five is a good thing now and then; +only that is too bodily, and ends in a headache, and feeling stupider +than before. But to-night, what glorious excitement! Too late for +dinner--drenched with snow--lost on a mountain--anxiety--fear--the +Gabriel hounds--terror--despair--resignation--sudden +relief--warm stockings--delightful sympathy--petted on every +side--hungry--happy--fires--punch! I never lived till to-night--I never +relished life till now. How could I? I never saw Death nor Danger near +enough to be worth a straw." + +Jael made no attempt to arrest this flow of spirits. She waited quietly +for a single pause, and then she laid her hand on the young lady's, and, +fastening her eyes on her, she said quietly,-- + +"You have seen HIM." + +Grace Carden's face was scarlet in a moment, and she looked with a +rueful imploring glance, into those great gray searching eyes of Jael +Dence. + +Her fine silvery tones of eloquence went off into a little piteous whine +"You are very cunning--to believe in a magpie." And she hid her blushing +face in her hands. She took an early opportunity of sending this too +sagacious rustic to bed. + + +Next day Mr. Coventry was so stiff and sore he did not come down to +breakfast. But Grace Carden, though very sleepy, made her appearance, +and had a most affectionate conversation with Mr. Raby. She asked leave +to christen him again. "I must call you something, you know, after +all this. Mr. Raby is cold. Godpapa is childish. What do you say +to--'Uncle'?" + +He said he should be delighted. Then she dipped her forefinger in water. +He drew back with horror. + +"Come, young lady," said he, "I know it is an age of burlesque. But let +us spare the sacraments, and the altar, and such trifles." + +"I am not half so wicked as you think," said Grace. Then she wrote +"Uncle" on his brow, and so settled that matter. + +Mr. Coventry came down about noon, and resumed his courtship. He +was very tender, spoke of the perils they had endured together as an +additional tie, and pressed his suit with ardor. + +But he found a great change in the lady. + +Yesterday, on Cairnhope Peak, she was passive, but soft and complying. +To-day she was polite, but cool, and as slippery as an eel. There was no +pinning her. + +And, at last, she said, "The fact is I'm thinking of our great +preservation, and more inclined to pray than flirt, for once." + +"And so am I," said the man of tact; "but what I offer is a sacred and +life-long affection." + +"Oh, of course." + +"A few hours ago you did me the honor to listen to me. You even hinted I +might speak to your father." + +"No, no. I only asked if you HAD spoken to him." + +"I will not contradict you. I will trust to your own candor. Dear Grace, +tell me, have I been so unfortunate as to offend you since then?" + +"No." + +"Have I lost your respect?" + +"Oh, no." + +"Have I forfeited your good opinion?" + +"Dear me, no." (A little pettishly.) + +"Then how is it that I love you better, if possible, than yesterday, and +you seem not to like me so well as yesterday?" + +"One is not always in the same humor." + +"Then you don't like me to-day?" + +"Oh yes, but I do. And I shall always like you: if you don't tease me, +and urge me too much. It is hardly fair to hurry me so; I am only a +girl, and girls make such mistakes sometimes." + +"That is true; they marry on too short an acquaintance. But you have +known me more than two years, and, in all that time, have I once given +you reason to think that you had a rival in my admiration, my love?" + +"I never watched you to see. But all that time you have certainly +honored me with your attention, and I do believe you love me more than +I deserve. Please do not be angry: do not be mortified. There is no +occasion; I am resolved not to marry until I am of age; that is all; and +where's the harm of that?" + +"I will wait your pleasure; all I ask you, at present, is to relieve me +of my fears, by engaging yourself to me." + +"Ah! but I have always been warned against long engagements." + +"Long engagements! Why, how old are you, may I ask?" + +"Only nineteen. Give me a little time to think." + +"If I wait till you are of age, THAT WILL BE TWO YEARS." + +"Just about. I was nineteen on the 12th of December. What is the +matter?" + +"Oh, nothing. A sudden twinge. A man does not get rolled over sharp +rocks, by a mountain torrent, for nothing." + +"No, indeed." + +"Never mind that, if I'm not to be punished in my heart as well. This +resolution, not to marry for two years, is it your own idea? or has +somebody put it into your head since we stood on Cairnhope, and looked +at Bollinghope?" + +"Please give me credit for it," said Grace, turning very red: "it is the +only sensible one I have had for a long time." + +Mr. Coventry groaned aloud, and turned very pale. + +Grace said she wanted to go upstairs for her work, and so got away from +him. + +She turned at the door, and saw him sink into a chair, with an agony in +his face that was quite new to him. + +She fled to her own room, to think it all over, and she entered it so +rapidly that she caught Jael crying, and rocking herself before the +fire. + +The moment she came in Jael got up, and affected to be very busy, +arranging things; but always kept her back turned to Grace. + +The young lady sat down, and leaned her cheek on her hand, and reflected +very sadly and seriously on the misery she had left in the drawing-room, +and the tears she had found here. + +Accustomed to make others bright and happy by her bare presence, this +beautiful and unselfish young creature was shocked at the misery she +was sowing around her, and all for something her judgment told her would +prove a chimera. And again she asked herself was she brave enough, and +selfish enough, to defy her father and her godfather, whose mind was +written so clearly in that terrible inscription. + +She sat there, cold at heart, a long time, and at last came to a +desperate resolution. + +"Give me my writing-desk." + +Jael brought it her. + +"Sit down there where I can see you; and don't hide your tears from +me. I want to see you cry. I want every help. I wasn't born to make +everybody miserable: I am going to end it." + +She wrote a little, and then she stopped, and sighed; then she wrote a +little more, and stopped, and sighed. Then she burned the letter, and +began again; and as she wrote, she sighed; and as she wrote on, she +moaned. + +And, as she wrote on, the tears began to fall upon the paper. + +It was piteous to see the struggle of this lovely girl, and the patient +fortitude that could sigh, and moan, and weep, yet go on doing the brave +act that made her sigh, and moan, and weep. + +At last, the letter was finished, and directed; and Grace put it in her +bosom, and dismissed Jael abruptly, almost harshly, and sat down, cold +and miserable, before the fire. + +At dinner-time her eyes were so red she would not appear. She pleaded +headache, and dined in her own room. + +Meantime Mr. Coventry passed a bitter time. + +He had heard young Little say, "Wait two years." And now Grace was +evading and procrastinating, and so, literally, obeying that young man, +with all manner of false pretenses. This was a revelation, and cast back +a bright light on many suspicious things he had observed in the church. + +He was tortured with jealous agony. And it added to his misery that he +could not see his way to any hostilities. + +Little could easily be driven out of the country, for that matter; he +had himself told them both how certainly that would befall him if he was +betrayed to the Unions. But honor and gratitude forbade this line; and +Coventry, in the midst of his jealous agony, resisted that temptation +fiercely, would not allow his mind even to dwell upon it for a moment. + +He recalled all his experiences; and, after a sore struggle of passion, +he came to some such conclusion as this: that Grace would have married +him if she had not unexpectedly fallen in with Little, under very +peculiar and moving circumstances; that an accident of this kind would +never occur again, and he must patiently wear out the effect of it. + +He had observed that in playing an uphill game of love the lover must +constantly ask himself, "What should I do, were I to listen to my +heart?" and having ascertained that, must do the opposite. So now Mr. +Coventry grimly resolved to control his wishes for a time, to hide his +jealousy, to hide his knowledge of her deceit, to hide his own anger. He +would wait some months before he again asked her to marry him, unless he +saw a change in her; and, meantime, he would lay himself out to please +her, trusting to this, that there could be no intercourse by letter +between her and a workman, and they were not likely to meet again in a +hurry. + +It required considerable fortitude to curb his love and jealousy, and +settle on this course. But he did conquer after a hard struggle, and +prepared to meet Miss Carden at dinner with artificial gayety. + +But she did not appear; and that set Mr. Coventry thinking again. +Why should she have a headache? He had a rooted disbelief in women's +headaches. His own head had far more reason to ache, and his heart too. +He puzzled himself all dinner-time about this headache, and was very bad +company. + +Soon after dinner he took a leaf out of her book, pretended headache, +and said he should like to take a turn by himself in the air. + +What he really wanted to do was to watch Miss Carden's windows, for he +had all manner of ugly suspicions. + +There seemed to be a strong light in the room. He could see no more. + +He walked moodily up and down, very little satisfied with himself, and +at last he got ashamed of his own thoughts. + +"Oh, no!" he said, "she is in her room, sure enough." + +He turned his back, and strolled out into the road. + +Presently he heard the rustle of a woman's dress. He stepped into the +shade of the firs directly, and his heart began to beat hard. + +But it was only Jael Dence. She came out within a few yards of him. +She had something white in her hand, which, however, she instinctively +conveyed into her bosom the moment she found herself in the moonlight. +Coventry saw her do it though. + +She turned to the left, and walked swiftly up the road. + +Now Coventry knew nothing about this girl, except that she belonged to +a class with whom money generally goes a long way. And he now asked +himself whether it might not be well worth his while to enlist her +sympathies on his side. + +While he was coming to this conclusion, Jael, who was gliding along at +a great pace, reached a turn in the road, and Mr. Coventry had to run +after her to catch her. + +When he got to the turn in the road, she was just going round another +turn, having quickened her pace. + +Coventry followed more leisurely. She might be going to meet her +sweetheart; and, if so, he had better talk to her on her return. + +He walked on till he saw at some distance a building, with light shining +though it in a peculiar way; and now the path became very rugged and +difficult. He came to a standstill, and eyed the place where his +rival was working at that moment. He eyed it with a strange mixture +of feelings. It had saved his life and hers, after all. He fell into +another mood, and began to laugh at himself for allowing himself to be +disturbed by such a rival. + +But what is this? Jael Dence comes in sight again: she is making for the +old church. + +Coventry watched her unseen. She went to the porch, and, after she had +been there some time, the door was opened just a little, then wide, +and she entered the building. He saw it all in a moment: the girl was +already bought by the other side, and had carried his rival a letter +before his eyes. + +A clandestine correspondence! + +All his plans and his resolutions melted away before this discovery. +There was nothing to be done but to save the poor girl from this +miserable and degrading attachment, and its inevitable consequences. + +He went home, pale with fury, and never once closed his eyes all night. + +Next day he ordered his dog-cart early; and told Mr. Raby and Grace he +was going to Hillsborough for medical advice: had a pain in his back he +could not get rid of. + +He called on the chief constable of Hillsborough, and asked him, +confidentially, if he knew any thing about a workman called Little. + +"What; a Londoner, sir? the young man that is at odds with the Trades?" + +"I shouldn't wonder. Yes; I think he is. A friend of mine takes an +interest in him." + +"And so do I. His case was a disgrace to the country, and to the +constabulary of the place. It occurred just ten days before I came here, +and it seems to me that nothing was done which ought to have been done." + +Mr. Coventry put in a question or two, which elicited from Mr. Ransome +all he knew about the matter. + +"Where does this Little live?" was the next inquiry. + +"I don't know; but I think you could learn at Mr. Cheetham's. The only +time I ever saw Little, he was walking with the foreman of those works. +He was pointed out to me. A dark young man; carries himself remarkably +well--doesn't look like a workman. If they don't know at Cheetham's, +I'll find him out for you in twenty-four hours." + +"But this Grotait. Do you know him?" + +"Oh, he is a public character. Keeps 'The Cutlers' Arms,' in Black +Street." + +"I understand he repudiates all these outrages." + +"He does. But the workmen themselves are behind the scenes; and what do +they call him? Why, 'Old Smitem.'" + +"Ah! You are one of those who look below the surface," said the +courtier. + +He then turned the conversation, and, soon after, went away. He had been +adroit enough to put his questions in the languid way of a man who had +no personal curiosity, and was merely discharging a commission. + +Mr. Ransome, as a matter of form, took a short note of the conversation; +but attached no importance to it. However, he used the means at his +command to find out Little's abode. Not that Mr. Coventry had positively +asked him to do it; but, his attention being thus unexpectedly called to +the subject, he felt desirous to talk to Little on his own account. + +Mr. Coventry went straight to "The Cutlers' Arms," but he went slowly. +A powerful contest was now going on within him; jealousy and rage +urged him onward, honor and gratitude held him back. Then came his +self-deceiving heart, and suggested that Miss Carden had been the first +to break her promise (she had let Jael Dence into Little's secret), +and that he himself was being undermined by cunning and deceit: strict +notions of honor would be out of place in such a combat. Lastly, he felt +it his DUTY to save Miss Carden from a degrading connection. + +All these considerations, taken together, proved too strong for his good +faith; and so stifled the voice of conscience, that it could only keep +whispering against the deed, but not prevent it. + +He went direct to "The Cutlers' Arms." He walked into the parlor and +ordered a glass of brandy-and-water, and asked if he could see Mr. +Grotait, privately. Mr. Grotait came in. + +"Sit down, Mr. Grotait. Will you have any thing?" + +"A glass of ale, sir, if you please." + +When this had been brought, and left, and the parties were alone, +Coventry asked him whether he could receive a communication under a +strict promise of secrecy. + +"If it is a trade matter, sir, you can trust me. A good many have." + +"Well then, I can tell you something about a workman called Little. But +before I say a word, I must make two express conditions. One is, that no +violence shall be used toward him; the other, that you never reveal to +any human creature, it was I who told you." + +"What, is he working still?" + +"My conditions, Mr. Grotait?" + +"I promise you absolute secrecy, sir, as far as you are concerned. As to +your other condition, the matter will work thus: if your communication +should be as important as you think, I can do nothing--the man is not in +the saw-trade--I shall carry the information to two other secretaries, +and shall not tell them I had it from Mr. Coventry, of Bollinghope." +(Mr. Coventry started at finding himself known.) "Those gentlemen will +be sure to advise with me, and I shall suggest to them to take effectual +measures, but to keep it, if possible, from the knowledge of all those +persons who discredit us by their violent acts." + +"Well then, on that understanding--the man works all night in a deserted +church at Cairnhope; it is all up among the hills." + +Grotait turned red. "Are you sure of this?" + +"Quite sure?" + +"You have seen him?" + +"Yes." + +"Has he a forge?" + +"Yes; and bellows, and quantities of molds, and strips of steel. He is +working on a large scale." + +"It shall be looked into, sir, by the proper persons. Indeed, the sooner +they are informed, the better." + +"Yes, but mind, no violence. You are strong enough to drive him out of +the country without that." + +"I should hope so." + +Coventry then rose, and left the place; but he had no sooner got into +the street, than a sort of horror fell on him; horror of himself, +distrust and dread of the consequences, to his rival but benefactor. + +Almost at the door he was met by Mr. Ransome, who stopped him and gave +him Little's address; he had obtained it without difficulty from Bayne. + +"I am glad you reminded me, sir," said he; "I shall call on him myself, +one of these days." + +These words rang in Coventry's ears, and put him in a cold perspiration. +"Fool!" thought he, "to go and ask a public officer, a man who hears +every body in turn." + +What he had done disinclined him to return to Cairnhope. He made a call +or two first, and loitered about, and then at last back to Raby, gnawed +with misgivings and incipient remorse. + +Mr. Grotait sent immediately for Mr. Parkin, Mr. Jobson, and Mr. Potter, +and told them the secret information he had just received. + +They could hardly believe it at first; Jobson, especially, was +incredulous. He said he had kept his eye on Little, and assured them the +man had gone into woodcarving, and was to be seen in the town all day. + +"Ay," said Parkin, "but this is at night; and, now I think of it, I met +him t'other day, about dusk, galloping east, as hard as he could go." + +"My information is from a sure source," said Grotait, stiffly. + +Parkin.--"What is to be done?" + +Jobson.--"Is he worth another strike?" + +Potter.--"The time is unfavorable: here's a slap of dull trade." + +The three then put their heads together, and various plans were +suggested and discussed, and, as the parties were not now before the +public, that horror of gunpowder, vitriol, and life-preservers, which +figured in their notices and resolutions, did not appear in their +conversation. Grotait alone was silent and doubtful. This Grotait was +the greatest fanatic of the four, and, like all fanatics, capable of +vast cruelty: but his cruelty lay in his head, rather than in his heart. +Out of Trade questions, the man, though vain and arrogant, was of a +genial and rather a kindly nature; and, even in Trade questions, being +more intelligent than his fellows, he was sometimes infested with a +gleam of humanity. + +His bigotry was, at this moment, disturbed by a visitation of that kind. + +"I'm perplexed," said he: "I don't often hesitate on a Trade question +neither. But the men we have done were always low-lived blackguards, who +would have destroyed us, if we had not disabled them. Now this Little is +a decent young chap. He struck at the root of our Trades, so long as +he wrought openly. But on the sly, and nobody knowing but ourselves, +mightn't it be as well to shut our eyes a bit? My informant is not in +trade." + +The other three took a more personal view of the matter. Little was +outwitting, and resisting them. They saw nothing for it but to stop him, +by hook or by crook. + +While they sat debating his case in whispers, and with their heads so +close you might have covered them all with a tea-tray, a clear musical +voice was heard to speak to the barmaid, and, by her direction, in +walked into the council-chamber--Mr. Henry Little. + +This visit greatly surprised Messrs. Parkin, Jobson, and Potter, and +made them stare, and look at one another uneasily. But it did not +surprise Grotait so much, and it came about in the simplest way. That +morning, at about eleven o'clock, Dr. Amboyne had called on Mrs. Little, +and had asked Henry, rather stiffly, whether he was quite forgetting +Life, Labor and Capital. Now the young man could not but feel that, +for some time past, he had used the good doctor ill; had neglected and +almost forgotten his benevolent hobby; so the doctor's gentle reproach +went to his heart, and he said, "Give me a day or two, sir, and I'll +show you how ashamed I am of my selfish behavior." True to his pledge, +he collected all his notes together, and prepared a report, to be +illustrated with drawings. He then went to Cheetham's, more as a matter +of form than any thing, to see if the condemned grindstone had been +changed. To his infinite surprise he found it had not, and Bayne told +him the reason. Henry was angry, and went direct to Grotait about it. + +But as soon as he saw Jobson, and Parkin, and Potter, he started, and +they started. "Oh!" said he, "I didn't expect to find so much good +company. Why, here's the whole quorum." + +"We will retire, sir, if you wish it." + +"Not at all. My orders are to convert you all to Life, Labor, and +Capital (Grotait pricked up his ears directly); and, if I succeed, +the Devil will be the next to come round, no doubt. Well, Mr. Grotait, +Simmons is on that same grindstone you and I condemned. And all for +a matter of four shillings. I find that, in your trade, the master +provides the stone, but the grinder hangs and races it, which, in +one sense, is time lost. Well, Simmons declines the new stone, unless +Cheetham will pay him by time for hanging and racing it; Cheetham +refuses; and so, between them, that idiot works on a faulty stone. Will +you use your influence with the grinder?" + +"Well, Mr. Little, now, between ourselves don't you think it rather +hard that the poor workman should have to hang and race the master's +grindstone for nothing?" + +"Why, they share the loss between them. The stone costs the master three +pounds; and hanging it costs the workman only four or five shillings. +Where's the grievance?" + +"Hanging and racing a stone shortens the grinder's life; fills his lungs +with grit. Is the workman to give Life and Labor for a forenoon, and +is Capital to contribute nothing? Is that your view of Life, Labor, and +Capital, young man?" + +Henry was staggered a moment. "That is smart," said he. "But a rule of +trade is a rule, till it is altered by consent of the parties that made +it. Now, right or wrong, it is the rule of trade here that the small +grinders find their own stones, and pay for power; but the saw-grinders +are better off, for they have not to find stones, nor power, and their +only drawback is that they must hang and race a new stone, which costs +the master sixty shillings. Cheetham is smarting under your rules, and +you can't expect him to go against any rule, that saves him a shilling." + +"What does the grinder think?" + +"You might as well ask what the grindstone thinks." + +"Well, what does the grinder say, then?" + +"Says he'd rather run the stone out, than lose a forenoon." + +"Well, sir, it is his business." + +"It may be a man's business to hang himself; but it is the bystanders' +to hinder him." + +"You mistake me. I mean that the grinder is the only man who knows +whether a stone is safe." + +"Well, but this grinder does not pretend his stone is safe. All he says +is, safe or not, he'll run it out. So now the question is, will you +pay four shillings from your box for this blockhead's loss of time in +hanging and racing a new stone?" + +All the four secretaries opened their eyes with surprise at this. But +Grotait merely said he had no authority to do that; the funds of the +Union were set apart for specified purposes. + +"Very likely," said Henry, getting warm: "but, when there's life to be +TAKEN, your Union can find money irregularly; so why grudge it, when +there's life to be saved perhaps, and ten times cheaper than you pay for +blood?" + +"Young man," said Grotait, severely, "did you come here to insult us +with these worn-out slanders?" + +"No, but I came to see whether you secretaries, who can find pounds to +assassinate men, and blow up women and children with gunpowder, can find +shillings to secure the life of one of your own members; he risks it +every time he mounts his horsing." + +"Well, sir, the application is without precedent, and I must decline it; +but this I beg to do as courteously, as the application has been made +uncourteously." + +"Oh, it is easy to be polite, when you've got no heart." + +"You are the first ever brought that charge against me." + +"You ought to be ashamed of yourself," said Potter, warmly. "No heart! +Mr. Grotait is known for a good husband, a tender father, and the truest +friend in Hillsborough." + +The others echoed these sentiments warmly and sincerely; for, as strange +as it may appear to those who have not studied human nature at first +hand, every word of this eulogy was strictly true. + +"Thank you, gentlemen," said Grotait. "But we must make allowances. Mr. +Little is smarting under a gross and dastardly outrage, and also under +a fair defeat; and thinks his opponents must be monsters. Now I should +like to show him the contrary. Let Simmons take care of himself. You +have given him good advice, and much to your credit: now have you +nothing to say to us, on your own account?" + +"Not a word," said Henry, steadily + +"But suppose I could suggest a way by which you could carry on your +trade in Hillsborough, and offend nobody?" + +"I should decline to hear it even. You and I are at war on that. You +have done your worst, and I shall do my best to make you all smart for +it, the moment I get a chance." + +Grotait's cheek reddened with anger at this rebuff, and it cost him an +effort to retain his friendly intentions. "Come, come," said he, rather +surlily, "don't be in a hurry till you have heard the nature of my +proposal. Here, Jess, a quart of the best ale. Now, to begin, let us +drink and be comfortable together." + +He passed the glass to Little first. But the young man's blood was +boiling with his wrongs, and this patronizing air irritated him to boot. +He took the glass in his hand, "Here's quick exposure--sudden death--and +sure damnation--to all hypocrites and assassins!" He drained the glass +to this toast, flung sixpence on the table, and strode out, white with +passion himself, and leaving startled faces behind him. + +"So be it," said Grotait; and his wicked little eye glittered +dangerously. + + +That same evening, a signal, well known to certain workmen in +Hillsborough, peeped in the window of "The Cutlers' Arms." And, in +consequence, six or seven ill-conditioned fellows gathered about the +doors and waited patiently for further information. + +Amongst these was a sturdy fellow of about nine-and-twenty, whose +existence was a puzzle to his neighbors. During the last seven years he +had worked only eighteen months all together. The rest of the time +he had been on the Saw-Grinders' box, receiving relief, viz.: seven +shillings and sixpence for his wife, and two shillings for each child; +and every now and then he would be seen with three or four sovereigns in +his possession. + +The name of this masterful beggar, of this invalid in theory, who, in +fact, could eat three pounds of steak at a sitting, was Biggs; but it +is a peculiarity of Hillsborough to defy baptismal names, and substitute +others deemed spicier. Out of the parish register and the records of the +police courts, the scamp was only known as Dan Tucker. + +This Dan stood, with others, loitering about "The Cutlers' Arms." + +Presently out came Grotait, and surveyed the rascally lot. He beckoned +to Dan, and retired. + +Dan went in after him. + +"Drat his luck!" said one of the rejected candidates, "he always gets +the job." The rest then dispersed. + +Tucker was shown into a pitch-dark room, and there a bargain was struck +between him and men unseen. He and two more were to go to Cairnhope, +and DO Little. He was to avoid all those men who had lately stood at the +door with him, and was to choose for his companions Simmons the grinder, +and one Sam Cole, a smooth, plausible fellow, that had been in many a +dark job, unsuspected even by his wife and family, who were respectable. + +Thus instructed, Tucker went to the other men, and soon reported to +Grotait that he had got Cole all right, but that Simmons looked coldly +on the job. He was in full work, for one thing, and said Little had had +his squeak already, and he didn't see following him eleven miles off; +he had, however, asked him whether Little had a wife and children, which +question he, Tucker, could not answer. + +"But I can," said Grotait. "He is a bachelor. You can tell Simmons so. +There are reasons why Ned Simmons must be in this. Try him to-morrow at +dinner-time. Bid two pounds more; and--his wife is near her time--tell +him this job will help him buy her wine and things," said the kind, +parental, diabolical Grotait. + + +Next morning Henry worked with the pen for Dr. Amboyne till twelve +o'clock. He then, still carrying out his friend's views, went down to Mr +Cheetham's words to talk to Simmons. + +But he found an ill-looking fellow standing by the man's side, and close +at his ear. This was no other than Dan Tucker, who by a neat coincidence +was tempting him to DO Little. + +Yesterday's conversation had unsettled Simmons, and he did not come +to work till twelve o'clock. He then fixed a small pulley-wheel to his +grindstone, to make up for lost time. + +He was still resisting the tempter, but more faintly than yesterday, +when Little came in, and spoke to him. Both he and Dan were amazed +at his appearance on the scene at that particular moment. They glared +stupidly but said nothing. + +"Look here, Simmons," said Little. "I have been to your friend Grotait, +and asked him to pay you for what you call time lost in hanging and +racing a new stone. He won't do it. That's your FRIEND. Now I'm your +ENEMY; so the Union says. Well, enemy or not, I'll do what Grotait +won't. I'll pay you the four shillings for lost time, if you will stop +that stone at once, and hang another." + +"Why, what's wrong with the stone?" + +"The best judge in Hillsborough condemned it; and now, if you are not +running it with an undersized pulley-wheel, to try it worse!" + +Simmons got stupid and irritated between the two. His bit of manhood +revolted against Little's offer, made whilst he was half lending his ear +to Tucker's proposal; and, on the other hand, that very offer irritated +him with Tucker, for coming and tempting him to DO this very Little, who +was a good sort. + +"---- you both!" said the rough fellow. "I wish you'd let me alone. Here +I've lost my morning's work already." Then to Little, "Mind thyself, old +lad. Happen thou's in more danger than I am." + +"What d'ye mean by that?" said Little, very sharply. + +But Simmons saw he had gone too far, and now maintained a sullen +silence. + +Henry turned to Tucker. "I don't know who you are, but I call you +witness that I have done all I can for this idiot. Now, if he comes to +harm, his blood be upon his own head." + +Then Henry went off in dudgeon, and, meeting Bayne in the yard, had a +long discussion with him on the subject. + +The tempter took advantage of Little's angry departure, and steadily +resumed his temptation. + +But he was interrupted in his turn. + +The defect in this grindstone was not so serious but that the stone +might perhaps have been ground out with fair treatment: but, by fixing +a small pulley-wheel, Simmons had caused it to rotate at furious speed. +This tried it too hard, and it flew in two pieces, just as the grinder +was pressing down a heavy saw on it with all his force. + +One piece, weighing about five hundredweight, tore the horsing chains +out of the floor, and went clean through the window (smashing the +wood-work), out into the yard, and was descending on Little's head; but +he heard the crash and saw it coming; he ran yelling out of the way, +and dragged Bayne with him. The other fragment went straight up to the +ceiling, and broke a heavy joist as if it had been a cane; then fell +down again plump, and would have destroyed the grinder on the spot, had +he been there; but the tremendous shock had sent him flying clean over +the squatter board, and he fell on his stomach on the wheel-band of the +next grindstone, and so close to the drum, that, before any one could +recover the shock and seize him, the band drew him on to the drum, and +the drum, which was drawing away from the window, pounded him against +the wall with cruel thuds. + +One ran and screamed to stop the power, another to cut the big +wheel-bands. All this took several seconds; and here seconds were torn +flesh and broken bones. Just as Little darted into the room, pale with +his own narrow escape, and awe-stricken at the cries of horror within, +the other grinders succeeded in dragging out, from between the wall and +the drum, a bag of broken bones and blood and grease, which a minute +before was Ned Simmons, and was talking over a deed of violence to be +done. + +The others carried him and laid him on a horsing; and there they still +supported his head and his broken limbs, sick with horror. + +The man's face was white, and his eyes stared, and his body quivered. +They sprinkled him with water. + +Then he muttered, "All right. I am not much hurt.--Ay, but I am though. +I'm done for." + +After the first terror of the scene had passed, the men were for taking +him to the infirmary. But Little interposed, eagerly, "No, no. I'll pay +the doctor myself sooner. He shall be nursed at home, and have all that +skill can do to save him. Oh, why, why would he not listen to me?" + +A stretcher was got, and a mattress put on it, and they carried him +through the streets, while one ran before to tell the unhappy wife, +and Little took her address, and ran to Dr. Amboyne. The doctor went +instantly to the sufferer. + +Tucker assisted to carry the victim home. He then returned to Grotait, +and told him the news. Dan was not so hardened but what he blubbered in +telling it, and Grotait's eyes were moist with sympathy. + +They neither of them spoke out, and said, "This upsets our design on +Little." Each waited to see whether that job was to go on. Each was +ashamed to mention it now. So it came to a standstill. + +As for Little, he was so shocked by this tragedy and so anxious about +its victim, that he would not go out to Cairnhope. He came, in the +evening to Dr. Amboyne, to inquire, "Can he live?" + +"I can't say yet. He will never work again." + +Then, after a silence, he fixed his eyes on young Little, and said, +"I am going to make a trial of your disposition. This is the man I +suspected of blowing you up; and I'm of the same opinion still." + +"Then he has got his deserts," were Henry's first words, after a pause +of astonishment. + +"Does that mean you forgive him, or you don't forgive him?" + +"I dare say I should forgive the poor wretch, if he was to ask me." + +"And not without?" + +"No. I might try and put it out of my head; but that is all I could do." + +"Is it true that you are the cause of his not being taken to the +infirmary?" + +"Yes, I said I'd pay out of my own pocket sooner; and I'm not the sort +to go from my word. The man shall want for nothing, sir. But please +don't ask me to love my enemies, and all that Rot. I scorn hypocrisy. +Every man hates his enemies; he may hate 'em out like a man, or palaver +'em, and beg God to forgive 'em (and that means damn 'em), and hate 'em +like a sneak; but he always hates 'em." + +The doctor laughed heartily. "Oh, how refreshing a thing it is to fall +in with a fellow who speaks his real mind. However, I am not your enemy, +am I?" + +"No. You are the best friend I ever had--except my mother." + +"I am glad you think so; because I have a favor to ask you." + +"Granted, before ever you speak." + +"I want to know, for certain, whether Simmons was the man who blew you +up; and I see but one way of learning it. You must visit him and be +kind to him; and then my art tells me, he won't leave the world without +telling you. Oblige me by taking him this bottle of wine, at once, and +also this sedative, which you can administer if he is in violent pain, +but not otherwise." + +"Doctor," said the young man, "you always get your own way with me. And +so you ought." + +Little stood by Simmons's bedside. + +The man's eye was set, his cheek streaked with red, and his head was +bandaged. He labored in breathing. + +Young Little looked at him gravely, and wondered whether this battered +figure was really the man who had so nearly destroyed him. + +After some minutes of this contemplation, he said gravely "Simmons, I +have brought you some wine." + +The man stared at him, and seemed confused. He made no reply. + +"Give me a spoon," said Henry. + +Mrs. Simmons sat by the bedside rocking herself; she was stupefied with +grief; but her sister, a handy girl, had come to her in her trouble: she +brought Henry a spoon directly. + +He poured out a little wine, and put it to the sufferer's lips. He drank +it, and said it was rare good stuff. Henry gave him a little more. + +Simmons then looked at him more intelligently and attentively, and gave +a sort of shiver. "Who be you?" + +"Henry Little; who advised you not to run that stone." + +"Ah!" said Simmons, "I thought it was you." He seemed puzzled. But, +after a while, he said, "I wish I had hearkened thee, lad. Give me some +more of yonder stuff. What is it?" + +"Port wine." Then he turned to the girl, and gave her a sovereign, and +sent her out for some mutton-chops. "Meat and wine are all the physic +you are to have, my poor fellow." + +"It won't be for long, lad. And a good job too. For I'm a bad 'un. I'm a +bad 'un." + +Henry then turned to the poor woman, and tried to say something to +console her, but the words stuck in his throat. She was evidently near +her confinement; and there lay her husband, worse than in his grave. +Little broke down himself, while trying to comfort her. + +The sufferer heard him, and said, all of a sudden, "Hold a light here." + +Henry took the candle, and held it over him. + +"Nay, nay, it is thy face I want to see." + +Henry was puzzled at the request, but did as he was asked. + +Simmons gave a groan. "Ay," said he, "thou'st all right. And I lie here. +That seems queer." + +The sister now returned, and Henry wrote her his address, and conversed +with her, and told her the whole story of the grindstone, and said that, +as he had hindered Simmons from being taken to the infirmary, he felt +bound to see he did not suffer by that interference. He gave her his +address, and said, if anything was wanted, she must come to him, or to +his mother if he should be out. + +No doubt the women talked of his kindness by the sick bed, and Simmons +heard it. + +Early in the morning Eliza Watney called at Little's house, with her +eyes very red, and said her brother-in-law wanted to speak to him. + +He went with her directly; and, on the road, asked her what it was +about. + +"I'm ashamed to tell you," said she, and burst out crying. "But I hope +God will reward you; and forgive him: he is a very ignorant man." + +"Here I am, Simmons." + +"So I see." + +"Anything I can do for you?" + +"No." + +"You sent for me." + +"Did I? Well, I dare say I did. But gi' me time. Gi' me time. It's noane +so easy to look a man in the face, and tell him what I'm to tell thee. +But I can't die with it on me. It chokes me, ever since you brought me +yonder stuff, and the women set a-talking. I say--old lad--'twas I did +thee yon little job at Cheetham's. But I knew no better." + +There was a dead silence. And then Henry spoke. + +"Who set you on?" + +"Nay, that's their business." + +"How did you do it?" + +At this question--will it be believed?--the penitent's eye twinkled with +momentary vanity. "I fastened a tea-cup to an iron rake, and filled the +cup with powder; then I passed it in, and spilt the powder out of cup, +and raked it in to the smithy slack, and so on, filling and raking in. +But I did thee one good turn, lad; I put powder as far from bellows as I +could. Eh, but I was a bad 'un to do the like to thee; and thou's a good +'un to come here. When I saw thee lie there, all scorched and shaking, +I didn't like my work; and now I hate it. But I knew no better at the +time. And, you see, I've got it worse myself. And cheap served too." + +"Oh, Mr. Little," said Eliza Watney; "TRY and forgive him." + +"My girl," said Henry, solemnly, "I thought I never could forgive the +man who did that cruel deed to me, and I had never injured any one. But +it is hard to know one's own mind, let alone another man's. Now I look +at him lying pale and battered there, it seems all wiped out. I forgive +you, my poor fellow, and I hope God will forgive you too." + +"Nay. He is not so soft as thou. This is how He forgives me. But I knew +no better. Old gal, learn the young 'un to read, that's coming just as +I'm going; it is sore against a chap if he can't read. Right and wrong +d--n 'em, they are locked up in books, I think: locked away from a chap +like me. I know a little better now. But, eh, dear, dear, it is come too +late." And now the poor wretch began to cry at a gleam of knowledge of +right and wrong having come to him only just when he could no longer +profit by it. + +Henry left him at last, with the tears in his eyes. He promised them all +to come every day. + +He called on Dr. Amboyne, and said, "You are always right, doctor. +Simmons was the man, he has owned it, and I forgave him." + +He then went and told Mr. Holdfast. That gentleman was much pleased at +the discovery, and said, "Ah, but who employed him? That is what you +must discover." + +"I will try," said Henry. "The poor fellow had half a mind to make a +clean breast; but I didn't like to worry him over it." + +Returning home he fell in with Grotait and Parkin. They were talking +earnestly at the door of a public-house, and the question they were +discussing was whether or not Little's affair should be revived. + +They were both a good deal staggered by the fate of Simmons, Parkin +especially, who was rather superstitious. He had changed sides, and was +now inclined to connive, or, at all events to temporize; to abandon the +matter till a more convenient time. Grotait, on the other hand, whose +vanity the young man had irritated, was bent on dismounting his forge. +But even he had cooled a little, and was now disinclined to violence. +He suggested that it must be easy to drive a smith out of a church, by +going to the parochial authorities; and they could also send Little an +anonymous letter, to tell him the Trades had their eyes on him; by this +double stroke, they would probably bring him to some reasonable terms. + +It certainly was a most unfortunate thing that Little passed that way +just then; unfortunate that Youth is so impetuous. + +He crossed the street to speak to these two potentates, whom it was his +interest to let alone--if he could only have known it. + +"Well, gentlemen, have you seen Simmons?" + +"No," said Mr. Parkin. + +"What, not been to see the poor fellow who owes his death to you?" + +"He is not dead yet." + +"No, thank Heaven! He has got a good work to do first; some hypocrites, +assassins, and cowards to expose." + +Parkin turned pale; Grotait's eye glistened like a snake's: he made +Parkin a rapid signal to say nothing, but only listen. + +"He has begun by telling me who it was that put gunpowder into my forge, +and how it was done. I have forgiven him. He was only the tool of much +worse villains; base, cowardly, sneaking villains. Those I shall not +forgive. Oh, I shall know all about it before long. Good-morning." + +This information and threat, and the vindictive bitterness and +resolution with which the young man had delivered it, struck terror into +the gentle Parkin, and shook even Grotait. The latter, however, soon +recovered himself, and it became a battle for life or death between him +and Little. + +He invited Parkin to his own place, and there the pair sat closeted. + +Dan Tucker and Sam Cole were sent for. + +Tucker came first. He was instantly dispatched to Simmons, with money +from the Saw Grinders' box. He was to ascertain how much Simmons had let +out, and to adjure him to be true to the Trade, and split on no man but +himself. When he had been gone about twenty minutes, Sam Cole came in, +and was instructed to get two other men in place of Simmons, and be in +readiness to do Little. + +By-and-by Tucker returned with news. Simmons had at present split only +on himself; but the women were evidently in love with Little; said +he was their only friend; and he, Tucker, foresaw that, with their +co-operation, Simmons would be turned inside out by Little before he +died. + +Grotait struck his hand on the table. "The Unions are in danger," said +he. "There is but one way, Little must be made so that he can't leave +Cairnhope while Simmons is alive." + +So important did the crisis appear to him, that he insisted on Parkin +going with him at once to Cairnhope, to reconnoiter the ground. + +Parkin had a gig and a fast horse: so, in ten minutes more, they were on +the road. + +They reached Cairnhope, put up at the village inn, and soon extracted +some particulars about the church. They went up to it, and examined it, +and Grotait gave Parkin a leg up, to peer through the window. + +In this position they were nailed by old George. + +"What be you at?" + +"What is that to you?" said Grotait. + +"It is plenty. You mustn't come trespassing here. Squire won't have it." + +"Trespassing in a churchyard! Why it belongs to all the world." + +"Nay, this one belongs to the Lord o' the manor." + +"Well, we won't hurt your church. Who keeps the key?" + +"Squire Raby." + +Old George from this moment followed them about everywhere, grumbling at +their heels, like a mastiff. + +Grotait, however, treated him with cool contempt, and proceeded to make +a sketch of the door, and a little map showing how the church could be +approached from Hillsborough on foot without passing through Cairnhope +village. This done, he went back with Parkin to the inn, and thence to +Hillsborough. + +It was old Christmas Eve. Henry was working at his forge, little +dreaming of danger. Yet it was close at hand, and from two distinct +quarters. + +Four men, with crape masks, and provided with all manner of tools, and +armed with bludgeons, were creeping about the churchyard, examining and +listening. Their orders were to make Little so that he should not leave +Cairnhope for a month. And that, in plain English, meant to beat him +within an inch of his life, if not kill him. + +At the same time, a body of nine men were stealing up the road, with +designs scarcely less hostile to Little. + +These assailants were as yet at a considerable distance, but more +formidable in appearance than the others being most of them armed with +swords, and led by a man with a double-barreled gun. + +Grotait's men, having well surveyed the ground, now crept softly up to +the porch, and examined the lock. + +The key was inside, and they saw no means of forcing the lock without +making a noise, and putting their victim on his guard. + +After a long whispered consultation, they resolved to unscrew the +hinges. + +These hinges were of great length, and were nailed upon the door, but +screwed into the door-post with four screws each. + +Two men, with excellent tools, and masters of the business, went softly +to work. One stood, and worked on the upper screws; the other kneeled, +and unfastened the lower screws. + +They made no more noise than a rat gnawing; yet, such was their caution, +and determination to surprise their victim, that they timed all their +work by Little's. Whenever the blows of his hammer intermitted, they +left off; and began again when he did. + +When all the screws were out but two, one above, one below, they +beckoned the other two men, and these two drove large gimlets into the +door, and so held it that it might not fall forward when the last screw +should come out. + +"Are all screws out?" whispered Cole, who was the leader. + +"Ay," was the whispered reply. + +"Then put in two more gimlets." + +That was done. + +"Now, men," whispered Cole. "Lay the door softly down outside: then, up +sticks--into church--and DO HIM!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + +If Mr. Coventry, before he set all this mischief moving, could have seen +the INSIDE of Grace Carden's letter to Henry Little! + + +"DEAR MR. LITTLE,--I do not know whether I ought to write to you at all, +nor whether it is delicate of me to say what I am going; but you have +saved my life, and I do so want to do all I can to atone for the pain I +have given you, who have been so good to me. I am afraid you will never +know happiness, if you waste your invaluable life longing after what is +impossible. There is an impassable barrier between you and me. But +you might be happy if you would condescend to take my advice, and let +yourself see the beauty and the goodness of another. The person who +bears this letter comes nearer to perfection than any other woman I ever +saw. If you would trust my judgment (and, believe me, I am not to be +mistaken in one of my own sex), if you could turn your heart toward her, +she would make you very happy. I am sure she could love you devotedly, +if she only heard those words from your lips, which every woman requires +to hear before she surrenders her affections. Pray do not be angry with +me; pray do not think it cost me little to give this strange but honest +advice to one I admire so. But I feel it would be so weak and selfish in +me to cling to that, which, sooner or later, I must resign, and to make +so many persons unhappy, when all might be happy, except perhaps myself. + +"Once more, forgive me. Do not think me blind; do not think me +heartless; but say, this is a poor girl, who is sadly perplexed, and is +trying very hard to be good and wise, and not selfish. + +"One line, to say you will consider my advice, and never hate nor +despise your grateful and unhappy friend. + +"GRACE CARDEN." + + +When she had dispatched this letter, she felt heroic. + +The next day, she wished she had not written it, and awaited the reply +with anxiety. + +The next day, she began to wonder at Little's silence: and by-and-by she +was offended at it. Surely what she had written with so great an effort +was worth a reply. + +Finally, she got it into her head that Little despised her. Upon this +she was angry with him for not seeing what a sacrifice she had made, +and for despising her, instead of admiring her a little, and pitying +her ever so much. The old story in short--a girl vexed with a man for +letting her throw dust in his eyes. + +And, if she was vexed with Little for not appreciating her sacrifice, +she was quite as angry with Coventry and Jael for being the causes of +that unappreciated sacrifice. So then she was irritable and cross. But +she could not be that long: so she fell into a languid, listless state: +and then she let herself drift. She never sent Jael to the church again. + +Mr. Coventry watched all her moods; and when she reached the listless +stage, he came softly on again, and began to recover his lost ground. + + +On the fifth of January occurred a rather curious coincidence. In +Hillsborough Dr. Amboyne offered his services to Mrs. Little to +reconcile her and her brother. Mrs. Little feared the proposal came too +late: but showed an inclination to be reconciled for Henry's sake. But +Henry said he would never be reconciled to a man who had insulted his +mother. He then reminded her she had sent him clandestinely into Raby +Hall to see her picture. "And what did I see? Your picture was +turned with its face to the wall, and insulting words written on the +back--'Gone into trade.' I didn't mean to tell yell, mother; but you see +I have. And, after that, you may be reconciled to the old scoundrel +if you like; but don't ask me." Mrs. Little was deeply wounded by this +revelation. She tried to make light of it, but failed. She had been a +beauty, and the affront was too bitter. Said she, "You mustn't judge him +like other people: he was always so very eccentric. Turn my picture to +the wall! My poor picture! Oh, Guy, Guy, could one mother have borne you +and me?" Amboyne had not a word more to say; he was indignant himself. + +Now that very afternoon, as if by the influence of what they call a +brain-wave, Grace Carden, who felt herself much stronger with Mr. Raby +than when she first came, was moved to ask him, with many apologies, and +no little inward tremor, whether she might see the other side of that +very picture before she went. + +"What for?" + +"Don't be angry, uncle dear. Curiosity." + +"I do not like to refuse you anything, Grace. But--Well, if I lend you +the key, will you satisfy your curiosity, and then replace the picture +as it is?" + +"Yes, I will." + +"And you shall do it when I am not in the room. It would only +open wounds that time has skinned. I'll bring you down the key at +dinner-time." Then, assuming a lighter tone, "Your curiosity will be +punished; you will see your rival in beauty. That will be new to you." + +Grace was half frightened at her own success, and I doubt whether she +would ever have asked for the key again; but Raby's word was his bond; +he handed her the key at dinner-time. + +Her eyes sparkled when she got it; but she was not to open it before +him; so she fell thinking: and she determined to get the gentlemen into +the drawing-room as soon as she could, and then slip back and see this +famous picture. + +Accordingly she left the table rather earlier than usual, and sat down +to her piano in the drawing-room. + +But, alas, her little maneuver was defeated. Instead of the gentlemen +leaving the dining-room, a servant was sent to recall her. + +It was old Christmas Eve, and the Mummers were come. + +Now, of all the old customs Mr. Raby had promised her, this was the +pearl. + +Accordingly, her curiosity took for the time another turn, and she was +soon seated in the dining-room, with Mr. Raby and Mr. Coventry, awaiting +the Mummers. + +The servants then came in, and, when all was ready, the sound of a +fiddle was heard, and a fiddler, grotesquely dressed, entered along with +two clowns, one called the Tommy, dressed in chintz and a fox's skin +over his shoulders and a fox's head for a cap; and one, called the +Bessy, in a woman's gown and beaver hat. + +This pair introduced the true dramatis personae, to the drollest violin +accompaniment, consisting of chords till the end of each verse, and then +a few notes of melody. + + "Now the first that I call on + Is George, our noble king, + Long time he has been at war, + Good tidings back he'll bring. + Too-ral-loo." + +Thereupon in came a man, with black breeches and red stripes at the +side, a white shirt decked with ribbons over his waistcoat, and a little +hat with streamers, and a sword. + +The clown walked round in a ring, and King George followed him, holding +his sword upright. + +Meantime the female clown chanted,-- + + "The next that we call on, + He is a squire's son; + He's like to lose his love, + Because he is so young. + Too-ral-loo." + +The Squire's Son followed King George round the ring; and the clowns, +marching and singing at the head, introduced another, and then another +sword-dancer, all attired like the first, until there were five marching +round and round, each with his sword upright. + +Then Foxey sang, to a violin accompaniment, + + "Now, fiddler, then, take up thy fiddle, + Play the lads their hearts' desire, + Or else we'll break thy fiddle, + And fling thee a-back o' the fire." + +On this the fiddler instantly played a dance-tune peculiar to this +occasion, and the five sword-dancers danced by themselves in a ring, +holding their swords out so as to form a cone. + +Then a knot, prepared beforehand, was slipped over the swords, and all +the swords so knotted were held aloft by the first dancer; he danced in +the center awhile, under the connected swords, then deftly drew his own +sword out and handed it to the second dancer; the second gave the third +dancer his sword, and so on, in rotation, till all the swords were +resumed. + +Raby's eyes sparkled with delight at all this, and he whispered his +comments on the verses and the dance. + +"King George!" said he. "Bosh! This is the old story of St. George and +the Dragon, overburdened with modern additions." As to the dance, he +assured her that, though danced in honor of old Christmas, it was older +than Christianity, and came from the ancient Goths and Swedes. + +These comments were interrupted by a man, with a white face, who burst +into the assembly crying, "Will ye believe me now? Cairnhope old church +is all afire!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + +"Ay, Squire," said Abel Eaves, for he was the bearer of this strange +news, "ye wouldn't believe ME, now come and see for yourself." + +This announcement set all staring; and George the blacksmith did +but utter the general sentiment when, suddenly dropping his assumed +character of King George, he said, "Bless us and save us! True Christmas +Eve; and Cairnhope old church alight!" + +Then there was a furious buzz of tongues, and, in the midst of it Mr. +Raby disappeared, and the sword-dancers returned to the kitchen, talking +over this strange matter as they went. + +Grace retired to the drawing-room followed by Coventry. + +She sat silent some time, and he watched her keenly. + +"I wonder what has become of Mr. Raby?" + +Mr. Coventry did not know. + +"I hope he is not going out." + +"I should think not, it is a very cold night; clear, but frosty." + +"Surely he would never go to see." + +"Shall I inquire?" + +"No; but that might put it into his head. But I wish I knew where he +was." + +Presently a servant brought the tea in. + +Miss Carden inquired after Mr. Raby. + +"He is gone out, miss; but he won't be long, I was to tell you." + +Grace felt terribly uneasy and restless! rang the bell and asked for +Jael Dence. The reply was that she had not been to the hall that day. + +But, soon afterward, Jael came up from the village, and went into the +kitchen of Raby. There she heard news, which soon took her into the +drawing-room. + +"Oh, miss," said she, "do you know where the squire is?" + +"Gone to the church?" asked Grace, trembling. + +"Ay, and all the sword-dancers at his back." And she stood there and +wrung her hands with dismay. + + +The ancients had a proverb, "Better is an army of stags with a lion for +their leader, than an army of lions with a stag for their leader." +The Cairnhope sword-dancers, though stout fellows and strong against +a mortal foe, were but stags against the supernatural; yet, led by Guy +Raby, they advanced upon the old church with a pretty bold front, only +they kept twenty yards in their leader's rear. The order was to march in +dead silence. + +At the last turn in the road their leader suddenly halted, and, kneeling +on one knee, waved to his men to keep quiet: he had seen several dark +figures busy about the porch. + +After many minutes of thrilling, yet chilling, expectation, he rose and +told his men, in a whisper, to follow him again. + +The pace was now expedited greatly, and still Mr. Raby, with his +double-barreled gun in his hand, maintained a lead of some yards and his +men followed as noiselessly as they could, and made for the church: sure +enough it was lighted inside. + + +The young man who was thus beset by two distinct bands of enemies, +deserved a very different fate at the hands of his fellow-creatures. + +For, at this moment, though any thing but happy himself, he was working +some hours every day for the good of mankind; and was every day visiting +as a friend the battered saw-grinder who had once put his own life in +mortal peril. + +He had not fathomed the letter Grace had sent him. He was a young man +and a straightforward; he did not understand the amiable defects of the +female character. He studied every line of this letter, and it angered +and almost disgusted him. It was the letter of a lady; but beneath the +surface of gentleness and politeness lay a proposal which he considered +mean and cold-blooded. It lowered his esteem for her. + +His pride and indignation were roused, and battled with his love, +and they were aided by the healthy invigorating habits into which Dr. +Amboyne had at last inveigled him, and so he resisted: he wrote more +than one letter in reply to Grace Carden; but, when he came to read them +over and compare them with her gentle effusion, he was ashamed of his +harshness, and would not send the letter. + +He fought on; philanthropy in Hillsborough, forging in Cairnhope Church; +and still he dreamed strange dreams now and then: for who can work, both +night and day, as this man did--with impunity? + +One night he dreamed that he was working at his forge, when suddenly the +floor of the aisle burst, and a dead knight sprang from the grave with +a single bound, and stood erect before him, in rusty armor: out of his +helmet looked two eyes like black diamonds, and a nose like a falcon's. +Yet, by one of the droll contradictions of a dream, this impetuous, +warlike form no sooner opened its lips, than out issued a lackadaisical +whine. "See my breastplate, good sir," said he. "It was bright as silver +when I made it--I was like you, I forged my own weapons, forged them +with these hands. But now the damps of the grave have rusted it. +Odsbodikins! is this a thing for a good knight to appear in before his +judge? And to-morrow is doomsday, so they all say." + +Then Henry pitied the poor simple knight (in his dream), and offered his +services to polish the corslet up a bit against that great occasion. He +pointed toward his forge, and the knight marched to it, in three wide +steps that savored strongly of theatrical burlesque. But the moment he +saw the specimens of Henry's work lying about, he drew back, and wheeled +upon the man of the day with huge disdain. "What," said he, "do you +forge toys! Learn that a gentleman can only forge those weapons of war +that gentlemen do use. And I took you for a Raby!" + +With these bitter words he vanished, with flashing eyes and a look +of magnificent scorn, and left his fiery, haughty features imprinted +clearly on Henry's memory. + +One evening, as he plied his hammer, he heard a light sound at a window, +in an interval of his own noise. He looked hastily up, and caught a +momentary sight of a face disappearing from the window. It was gone like +a flash even as he caught sight of it. + +Transient as the glance was, it shook him greatly. He heated a bar of +iron white hot at one end, and sallied out into the night. But there was +not a creature to be seen. + +Then he called aloud, "Who's there?" No reply. "Jael, was it you?" Dead +silence. + +He returned to his work, and set the appearance down to an ocular +illusion. But his dreams had been so vivid, that this really seemed only +one step more into the realm of hallucination. + +This was an unfortunate view of the matter. + +On old Christmas Eve he lighted the fires in his mausoleum first, and +at last succeeded in writing a letter to Grace Carden. He got out of +the difficulty in the best way, by making it very short. He put it in +an envelope, and addressed it, intending to give it to Jael Dence, from +whom he was always expecting a second visit. + +He then lighted his forge, and soon the old walls were ringing again +with the blows of his hammer. + +It was ten o'clock at night; a clear frosty night; but he was heated +and perspiring with his ardent work, when, all of a sudden, a cold air +seemed to come in upon him from a new quarter--the door. He left his +forge, and took a few steps to where he could see the door. Instead of +the door, he saw the blue sky. + +He uttered an exclamation, and rubbed his eyes. + +It was no hallucination. The door lay flat on the ground, and the stars +glittered in the horizon. + +Young Little ran toward the door; but, when he got near it, he paused, +and a dire misgiving quelled him. A workman soon recognizes a workman's +hand; and he saw Hillsborough cunning and skill in this feat, and +Hillsborough cunning and cruelty lurking in ambush at the door. + +He went back to his forge, and, the truth must be told, his knees felt +weak under him with fears of what was to come. + +He searched about for weapons, and could find nothing to protect him +against numbers. Pistols he had: but, from a wretched over-security, he +had never brought them to Cairnhope Church. + +Oh, it was an era of agony that minute, in which, after avoiding the +ambuscade that he felt sure awaited him at the door, he had nothing on +earth he could do but wait and see what was to come next. + +He knew that however small his chance of escape by fighting, it was his +only one; and he resolved to receive the attack where he was. He blew +his bellows and, cold at heart, affected to forge. + +Dusky forms stole into the old church. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + +Little blew his coals to a white heat: then took his hammer into his +left hand, and his little iron shovel, a weapon about two feet long, +into his right. + +Three assailants crept toward him, and his position was such that two at +least could assail him front and rear. He counted on that, and measured +their approach with pale cheek but glittering eye, and thrust his shovel +deep into the white coals. + +They crept nearer and nearer, and, at last, made an almost simultaneous +rush on him back and front. + +The man in the rear was a shade in advance of the other. Little, whose +whole soul was in arms, had calculated on this, and turning as they came +at him, sent a shovelful of fiery coals into that nearest assailant's +face, then stepped swiftly out of the way of the other, who struck at +him too immediately for him to parry; ere he could recover the wasted +blow, Little's hot shovel came down in his head with tremendous force, +and laid him senseless and bleeding on the hearth, with blood running +from his ears. + +Little ladled the coals right and left on the other two assailants, one +of whom was already yelling with the pain of the first shovelful; then, +vaulting suddenly over a pew, he ran for the door. + +There he was encountered by Sam Cole, an accomplished cudgel-player, +who parried his blows coolly, and gave him a severe rap on the head that +dazzled him. But he fought on, till he heard footsteps coming behind +him, and then rage and despair seized him, he drew back, shifted his +hammer into his right hand and hurled it with all his force at Cole's +breast, for he feared to miss his head. Had it struck him on the breast, +delivered as it was, it would probably have smashed his breastbone, and +killed him; but it struck him on his throat, which was, in some degree, +protected by a muffler: it struck him and sent him flying like a +feather: he fell on his back in the porch, yards from where he received +that prodigious blow. + +Henry was bounding out after him, when he was seized from behind, and +the next moment another seized him too, and his right hand was now +disarmed by throwing away the hammer. + +He struggled furiously with them, and twice he shook them off, and +struck them with his fist, and jobbed them with his shovel quick and +short, as a horse kicking. + +But one was cunning enough to make a feint at his face, and then fell +down and lay hold of his knees: he was about to pulverize this fellow +with one blow of his shovel, when the other flung his arms round him. It +became a mere struggle. Such was his fury and his vigor, however, that +they could not master him. He played his head like a snake, so that they +could not seize him disadvantageously; and at last he dropped his shovel +and got them both by the throat, and grasped them so fiercely that their +faces were purple, and their eyes beginning to fix, when to his dismay, +he received a violent blow on the right arm that nearly broke it: he +let go, with a cry of pain, and with his left hand twisted the other man +round so quickly, that he received the next blow of Cole's cudgel. Then +he dashed his left fist into Cole's eye, who staggered, but still barred +the way; so Little rushed upon him, and got him by the throat, and would +soon have settled him: but the others recovered themselves ere he could +squeeze all the wind out of Cole, and it became a struggle of three to +one. + +He dragged them all three about with him; he kicked, he hit, he did +every thing that a man with one hand, and a lion's heart, could do. + +But gradually they got the better of him; and at last it came to this, +that two were struggling on the ground with him, and Cole standing over +them all three, ready to strike. + +"Now, hold him so, while I settle him," cried Cole, and raised his +murderous cudgel. + +It came down on Little's shoulder, and only just missed his head. + +Again it came down, and with terrible force. + +Up to this time he had fought as mute as a fox. But now that it had +come to mere butchery, he cried out, in his agony, "They'll kill me. My +mother! Help! Murder! Help!" + +"Ay! thou'lt never forge no more!" roared Cole, and thwack came down the +crushing bludgeon. + +"Help! Murder! Help!" screamed the victim, more faintly; and at the next +blow more faintly still. + +But again the murderous cudgel was lifted high, to descend upon his +young head. + +As the confederates held the now breathless and despairing victim to +receive the blow, and the butcher, with one eye closed by Henry's fist, +but the other gleaming savagely, raised the cudgel to finish him, +Henry saw a huge tongue of flame pour out at them all, from outside the +church, and a report, that sounded like a cannon, was accompanied by the +vicious ping of shot. Cole screamed and yelled, and dropped his cudgel, +and his face was covered with blood in a moment; he yelled, and covered +his face with his hands; and instantly came another flash, another +report, another cruel ping of shot, and this time his hands were covered +with blood. + +The others rolled yelling out of the line of fire, and ran up the aisle +for their lives. + +Cole, yelling, tried to follow; but Henry, though sick and weak with the +blows, caught him, and clung to his knees, and the next moment the place +was filled with men carrying torches and gleaming swords, and led by a +gentleman, who stood over Henry, in evening dress, but with the haughty +expanded nostrils, the brilliant black eyes, and all the features of +that knight in rusty armor who had come to him in his dream and left him +with scorn. + +At this moment a crash was heard: two of the culprits, with desperate +agility, had leaped on to the vestry chest, and from that on to the +horse, and from him headlong out of the window. + +Mr. Raby dispatched all his men but one in pursuit, with this brief +order--"Take them, alive or dead--doesn't matter which--they are only +cutlers; and cowards." + +His next word was to Cole. "What, three blackguards to one!--that's how +Hillsborough fights, eh?" + +"I'm not a blackguard," said Henry, faintly. + +"That remains to be proved, sir," said Raby, grimly. + +Henry made answer by fainting away. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + +When Henry Little came to himself, he was seated on men's hands, and +being carried through the keen refreshing air. Mr. Raby was striding on +in front; the horse's hoofs were clamping along on the hard road behind; +and he himself was surrounded by swordsmen in fantastic dresses. + +He opened his eyes, and thought, of course, it was another vision. +But no, the man, with whose blows his body was sore, and his right +arm utterly numbed, walked close to him between two sword-dancers with +Raby-marks and Little-marks upon him, viz., a face spotted with blood, +and a black eye. + +Little sighed. + +"Eh, that's music to me," said a friendly voice close to him. It was +the King George of the lyrical drama, and, out of poetry, George the +blacksmith. + +"What, it is you, is it?" said Little. + +"Ay, sir, and a joyful man to hear you speak again. The cowardly +varmint! And to think they have all got clear but this one! Are ye sore +hurt, sir?" + +"I'm in awful pain, but no bones broken." Then, in a whisper--"Where are +you taking me, George?" + +"To Raby Hall," was the whispered reply. + +"Not for all the world! if you are my friend, put me down, and let me +slip away." + +"Don't ask me, don't ask me," said George, in great distress. "How could +I look Squire in the face? He did put you in my charge." + +"Then I'm a prisoner!" said Henry, sternly. + +George hung his head, but made no reply. + +Henry also maintained a sullen silence after that. + + +The lights of Raby came in sight. + +That house contained two women, who awaited the result of the nocturnal +expedition with terrible anxiety. + +Its fate, they both felt, had been determined before they even knew that +the expedition had started. + +They had nothing to do but to wait, and pray that Henry had made his +escape, or else had not been so mad as to attempt resistance. + +In this view of things, the number and even the arms of his assailants +were some comfort to them, as rendering resistance impossible. + +As for Mr. Coventry, he was secretly delighted. His conscience was +relieved. Raby would now drive his rival out of the church and out of +the country without the help of the Trades, and his act of treachery and +bad faith would be harmless. Things had taken the happiest possible turn +for him. + +For all that, this courtier affected sympathy, and even some anxiety, to +please Miss Carden, and divert all suspicion from himself. But the true +ring was wanting to his words, and both the women felt them jar, and got +away from him, and laid their heads together, in agitated whispers. And +the result was, they put shawls over their heads, and went together out +into the night. + +They ran up the road, sighing and clasping their hands, but no longer +speaking. + +At the first turn they saw the whole body coming toward them. + +"I'll soon know," said Jael, struggling with her agitation. "Don't +you be seen, miss; that might anger the Squire; and, oh, he will be a +wrathful man this night, if he caught him working in yonder church." + +Grace then slipped back, and Jael ran on. But no sooner did she come +up with the party, than Raby ordered her back, in a tone she dared not +resist. + +She ran back, and told Grace they were carrying him in, hurt, and the +Squire's eyes were like hot coals. + +Grace slipped into the drawing-room and kept the door ajar. + +Soon afterward, Raby, his men, and his prisoners, entered the hall, and +Grace heard Raby say, "Bring the prisoners into the dining-room." + +Grace Carden sat down, and leaned her head upon her hand, and her little +foot beat the ground, all in a flutter. + +But this ended in a spirited resolve. She rose, pale, but firm, +and said, "Come with me, Jael;" and she walked straight into the +dining-room. Coventry strolled in after her. + +The room was still brilliantly lighted. Mr. Raby was seated at his +writing-table at the far end, and the prisoners, well guarded, stood +ready to be examined. + +"You can't come in here," was Mr. Raby's first word to Grace. + +But she was prepared for this, and stood her ground. "Excuse me, dear +uncle, but I wish to see you administer justice; and, besides, I believe +I can tell you something about one of the prisoners." + +"Indeed! that alters the case. Somebody give Miss Carden a chair." + +She sat down, and fixed her eyes upon Henry Little--eyes that said +plainly, "I shall defend you, if necessary:" his pale cheek was flushing +at sight of her. + +Mr. Raby arranged his papers to make notes, and turned to Cole. "The +charge against you is, that you were seen this night by several persons +engaged in an assault of a cruel and aggravated character. You, and two +other men, attacked and overpowered an individual here present; and, +while he was helpless, and on the ground, you were seen to raise a heavy +cudgel (Got the cudgel, George?)--" + +"Ay, your worship, here 'tis." + +"--And to strike him several times on the head and limbs, with all your +force." + +"Oh, cruel! cruel!" + +"This won't do, Miss Carden; no observations, please. In consequence +of which blows he soon after swooned away, and was for some time +unconscious, and--" + +"Oh!" + +"--For aught I know, may have received some permanent injury." + +"Not he," said Cole; "he's all right. I'm the only man that is hurt; and +I've got it hot; he hit me with his hammer, and knocked me down like a +bullock. He's given me this black eye too." + +"In self-defense, apparently. Which party attacked the other first?" + +"Why they attacked me, of course," said Henry. "Four of them." + +"Four! I saw but three." + +"Oh, I settled one at starting, up near the forge. Didn't you find him?" +(This to George.) + +"Nay, we found none of the trash but this," indicating Cole, with a +contemptuous jerk of the thumb. + +"Now, don't all speak at once," said Mr. Raby. "My advice to you is to +say nothing, or you'll probably make bad worse. But if you choose to say +anything, I'm bound to hear it." + +"Well, sir," said Cole, in a carrying voice, "what I say is this: what +need we go to law over this? If you go against me for hitting him with +a stick, after he had hit me with a blacksmith's hammer, I shall have to +go against you for shooting me with a gun." + +"That is between you and me, sir. You will find a bystander may shoot +a malefactor to save the life of a citizen. Confine your defense, at +present, to the point at issue. Have you any excuse, as against this +young man?" (To Henry.)--"You look pale. You can sit down till your turn +comes." + +"Not in this house." + +"And why not in this house, pray? Is your own house a better?" + +No answer from Henry. A look of amazement and alarm from Grace. But she +was afraid to utter a word, after the admonition she had received. + +"Well, sir," said Cole, "he was desecrating a church." + +"So he was, and I shall talk to him in his turn. But you desecrated +it worse. He turned it into a blacksmith shop; you turned it into +a shambles. I shall commit you. You will be taken to Hillsborough +to-morrow; to-night you will remain in my strong-room. Fling him down +a mattress and some blankets, and give him plenty to eat and drink; I +wouldn't starve the devil on old Christmas Eve. There, take him away. +Stop; search his pockets before you leave him alone." + +Cole was taken away, and Henry's turn came. + +Just before this examination commenced, Grace clasped her hands, and +cast a deprecating look on Henry, as much as to say, "Be moderate." And +then her eyes roved to and fro, and the whole woman was in arms, and on +the watch. + +Mr. Raby began on him. "As for you, your offense is not so criminal in +the eye of the law; but it is bad enough; you have broken into a church +by unlawful means; you have turned it into a smithy, defiled the graves +of the dead, and turned the tomb of a good knight into an oven, to the +scandal of men and the dishonor of god. Have you any excuse to offer?" + +"Plenty. I was plying an honest trade, in a country where freedom is +the law. The Hillsborough Unions combined against me, and restrained my +freedom, and threatened my life, ay, and attempted my life too, before +to-day: and so the injustice and cruelty of men drove me to a sanctuary, +me and my livelihood. Blame the Trades, blame the public laws, blame the +useless police: but you can't blame me; a man must live." + +"Why not set up your shop in the village? Why wantonly desecrate a +church?" + +"The church was more secret, and more safe: and nobody worships in it. +The wind and the weather are allowed to destroy it; you care so little +for it you let it molder; then why howl if a fellow uses it and keeps it +warm?" + +At this sally there was a broad rustic laugh, which, however, Mr. Raby +quelled with one glance of his eye. + +"Come, don't be impertinent," said he to Little. + +"Then don't you provoke a fellow," cried Henry, raising his voice. + +Grace clasped her hands in dismay. + +Jael Dence said, in her gravest and most mellow voice, "You do forget +the good Squire saved your life this very night." + +This was like oil on all the waters. + +"Well, certainly I oughtn't to forget that," said Henry, apologetically. +Then he appealed piteously to Jael, whose power over him struck every +body directly, including Grace Carden. "Look here, you mustn't think, +because I don't keep howling, I'm all right. My arm is disabled: my back +is almost broken: my thigh is cut. I'm in sharp pain, all this time: and +that makes a fellow impatient of being lectured on the back of it all. +Why doesn't he let me go? I don't want to affront him now. All I want is +to go and get nursed a bit somewhere." + +"Now that is the first word of reason and common sense you have uttered, +young man. It decides me not to detain you. All I shall do, under the +circumstances, is to clear your rubbish out of that holy building, +and watch it by night as well as day. Your property, however, shall be +collected, and delivered to you uninjured: so oblige me with your name +and address." + +Henry made no reply. + +Raby turned his eye full upon him. + +"Surely you do not object to tell me your name." + +"I do." + +"Why?" + +"Excuse me." + +"What are you afraid of? Do you doubt my word, when I tell you I shall +not proceed against you?" + +"No: it is not that at all. But this is no place for me to utter my +father's name. We all have our secrets, sir. You have got yours. There's +a picture, with its face to the wall. Suppose I was to ask you to tell +all the world whose face it is you insult and hide from the world?" + +Raby turned red with wrath and surprise, at this sudden thrust. "You +insolent young scoundrel!" he cried. "What is that to you, and what +connection can there be between that portrait and a man in your way of +life?" + +"There's a close connection," said Henry, trembling with anger, in his +turn: "and the proof is that, when that picture is turned to the light, +I'll tell you my name: and, till that picture is turned to the light, +I'll not tell you my name; and if any body here knows my name, and tells +it you, may that person's tongue be blistered at the root!" + +"Oh, how fearful!" cried Grace, turning very pale. "But I'll put an end +to it all. I've got the key, and I've his permission, and I'll--oh, Mr. +Raby, there's something more in this than we know." She darted to the +picture, and unlocked the padlock, and, with Jael's assistance, began to +turn the picture. Then Mr. Raby rose and seemed to bend his mind inward, +but he neither forbade, nor encouraged, this impulsive act of Grace +Carden's. + +Now there was not a man nor a woman in the room whose curiosity had not +been more or less excited about this picture; so there was a general +movement toward it, of all but Mr. Raby, who stood quite still, turning +his eye inward, and evidently much moved, though passive. + +There happened to be a strong light upon the picture, and the lovely +olive face, the vivid features, and glorious black eyes and eyebrows, +seemed to flash out of the canvas into life. + +Even the living faces, being blondes, paled before it, in the one +particular of color. They seemed fair glittering moons, and this a +glowing sun. + +Grace's first feelings were those of simple surprise and admiration. +But, as she gazed, Henry's words returned to her, and all manner of +ideas struck her pell-mell. "Oh, beautiful! beautiful!" she cried. Then, +turning to Henry, "You are right; it was not a face to hide from the +world--oh! the likeness! just look at HIM, and then at her! can I be +mistaken?" + +This appeal was made to the company, and roused curiosity to a high +pitch; every eye began to compare the dark-skinned beauty on the wall +with the swarthy young man, who now stood there, and submitted in +haughty silence to the comparison. + +The words caught Mr. Raby's attention. He made a start, and elbowing +them all out of his way, strode up to the picture. + +"What do you say, Miss Carden? What likeness can there be between +my sister and a smith?" and he turned and frowned haughtily on Henry +Little. + +Henry returned his look of defiance directly. + +But that very exchange of defiance brought out another likeness, which +Grace's quick eye seized directly. + +"Why, he is still liker you," she cried. "Look, good people! Look at +all three. Look at their great black eyes, and their brown hair. Look +at their dark skins, and their haughty noses. Oh, you needn't blow +your nostrils out at me, gentlemen; I am not a bit afraid of either of +you.--And then look at this lovely creature. She is a Raby too, only +softened down by her sweet womanliness. Look at them all three, if they +are not one flesh and blood, I have no eyes." + +"Oh yes, miss; and this lady is his mother. For I have SEEN her; and she +is a sweet lady; and she told me I had a Cairnhope face, and kissed me +for it." + +Upon this from Jael, the general conviction rose into a hum that buzzed +round the room. + +Mr. Raby was struck with amazement. At last he turned slowly upon Henry, +and said, with stiff politeness, "Is your name Little, sir?" + +"Little is my name, and I'm proud of it." + +"Your name may be Little, but your face is Raby. All the better for you, +sir." + +He then turned his back to the young man, and walked right in front of +the picture, and looked at it steadily and sadly. + +It was a simple and natural action, yet somehow done in so imposing a +way, that the bystanders held their breath, to see what would follow. + +He gazed long and steadily on the picture, and his features worked +visibly. + +"Ay!" he said. "Nature makes no such faces nowadays. Poor unfortunate +girl!" And his voice faltered a moment. + +He then began to utter, in a low grave voice, some things that took +every body by surprise, by the manner as well as the matter; for, with +his never once taking his eyes off the picture, and speaking in a voice +softened by the sudden presence of that womanly beauty, the companion of +his youth, it was just like a man speaking softly in a dream. + +"Thomas, this picture will remain as it is while I live." + +"Yes, sir." + +"I find I can bear the sight of you. As we get older we get tougher. +You look as if you didn't want me to quarrel with your son? Well, I will +not: there has been quarreling enough. Any of the loyal Dences here?" +But he never even turned his head from the picture to look for them. + +"Only me, sir; Jael Dence, at your service. Father's not very well." + +"Nathan, or Jael, it is all one, so that it is Dence. You'll take that +young gentleman home with you, and send him to bed. He'll want nursing: +for he got some ugly blows, and took them like a gentleman. The young +gentleman has a fancy for forging things--the Lord knows what. He +shall not forge things in a church, and defile the tombs of his own +forefathers; but" (with a groan) "he can forge in your yard. All the +snobs in Hillsborough sha'n't hinder him, if that is his cursed hobby. +Gentlemen are not to be dictated to by snobs. Arm three men every night +with guns; load the guns with ball, not small shot, as I did; and if +those ruffians molest him again, kill them, and then come to me and +complain of them. But, mind you kill them first--complain afterward. And +now take half-a-dozen of these men with you, to carry him to the farm, +if he needs it. THERE, EDITH!" + +And still he never moved his eyes from the picture, and the words seemed +to drop out of him. + +Henry stood bewildered, and, ere he could say anything that might revive +the dormant irritation of Mr. Raby against him, female tact interposed. +Grace clasped her hands to him, with tears in her eyes; and as for Jael +Dence, she assumed the authority with which she had been invested and +hurried him bodily away; and the sword-dancers all gathered round him, +and they carried him in triumphant procession, with the fiddler playing, +and George whistling, the favorite tune of "Raby come home again," while +every sturdy foot beat the hard and ringing road in admirable keeping +with that spirit-stirring march. + +When he was gone, Grace crept up to Mr. Raby, who still stood before the +picture, and eyed it and thought of his youth. She took his arm wondrous +softly with her two hands, rested her sweet head against his shoulder, +and gazed at it along with him. + +When she had nestled to him some time in this delicate attitude, she +turned her eyes up to him, and murmured, "how good, how noble you are: +and how I love you." Then, all in a moment, she curled round his neck, +and kissed him with a tender violence, that took him quite by surprise. + +As for Mr. Coventry, he had been reduced to a nullity, and escaped +attention all this time: he sat in gloomy silence, and watched with +chilled and foreboding heart the strange turn events had taken, and were +taking; events which he, and no other man, had set rolling. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + + +Frederick Coventry, being still unacquainted with the contents of +Grace's letter, was now almost desperate. Grace Carden, inaccessible +to an unknown workman, would she be inaccessible to a workman whom Mr. +Raby, proud as he was, had publicly recognized as his nephew? This was +not to be expected. But something was to be expected, viz., that in a +few days the door would be closed with scorn in the face of Frederick +Coventry, the miserable traitor, who had broken his solemn pledge, +and betrayed his benefactor to those who had all but assassinated him. +Little would be sure to suspect him, and the prisoner, when he came to +be examined, would furnish some clew. + +A cold perspiration bedewed his very back, when he recollected that the +chief constable would be present at Cole's examination, and supply the +link, even if there should be one missing. He had serious thoughts of +leaving the country at once. + +Finding himself unobserved, he walked out of the room, and paced up and +down the hall. + +His thoughts now took a practical form. He must bribe the prisoner to +hold his tongue. + +But how? and when? and where? + +After to-night there might be no opportunity of saying a word to him. + +While he was debating this in his mind, Knight the butler crossed the +hall. + +Coventry stopped him, and asked where the prisoner was. + +"Where Squire told us to put him, sir." + +"No chance of his escaping--I hope?" + +"Not he, sir. + +"I should like to take a look at him." + +Knight demurred. "Well, sir, you see the orders are--but, of course, +master won't mind you. I'll speak to him." + +"No, it is not worth while. I am only anxious the villain should be +secure." This of course was a feeler. + +"Oh, there's no fear of that. Why, he is in the strong room. It's right +above yours. If you'll come with me, sir, I'll show you the door." +Coventry accompanied him, and Thomas Knight showed him a strong door +with two enormous bolts outside, both shot. + +Coventry felt despair, and affected satisfaction. + +Then, after a pause, he said, "But is the window equally secure?" + +"Two iron bars almost as thick as these bolts: and, if it stood open, +what could he do but break his neck, and cheat the gallows? He is all +right, sir; never you fear. We sarched him from head to foot, and found +no eend o' tools in his pockets. He is a deep 'un. But we are Yorkshire +too, as the saying is. He goes to Hillsbro' town-hall to-morrow; and +glad to be shut on him." + +Coventry complimented him, and agreed with him that escape was +impossible. + +He then got a light, and went to his own bedroom, and sat down, cold at +heart, before the fire. + +He sat in that state, till two o'clock in the morning, distracting his +brain with schemes, that were invented only to be dismissed as idle. + +At last an idea came to him. He took his fishing-rod, and put the +thinner joints together, and laid them on the bed. He then opened his +window very cautiously. But as that made some noise, he remained quite +quiet for full ten minutes. Then he got upon the window-seat, and passed +the fishing rod out. After one or two attempts he struck the window +above, with the fine end. + +Instantly he heard a movement above, and a window cautiously opened. + +He gave a low "Hem!" + +"Who's that?" whispered the prisoner, from above. + +"A man who wants you to escape." + +"Nay; but I have no tools." + +"What do you require?" + +"I think I could do summut with a screw-driver." + +"I'll send you one up." + +The next minute a couple of small screw-drivers were passed up--part of +the furniture of his gun. + +Cole worked hard, but silently, for about an hour, and then he whispered +down that he should be able to get a bar out. But how high was it from +the ground? + +"About forty feet." + +Coventry heard the man actually groan at the intelligence. + +"Let yourself down on my window-sill. I can find you rope enough for +that." + +"What, d'ye take me for a bird, that can light of a gate?" + +"But the sill is solid stone, and full a foot wide." + +"Say ye so, lad? Then luck is o' my side. Send up rope." + +The rope was sent up, and presently was fast to something above and +dangled down a little past the window-sill. + +"Put out a light on sill," whispered the voice above. + +"I will." + +Then there was a long silence, during which Coventry's blood ran cold. + +As nothing further occurred, he whispered, "What is the matter?" + +"My stomach fails me. Send me up a drop of brandy, will ye? Eh, man, but +this is queer work." + +"I can't get it up to you; you must drink it here. Come, think! It will +be five years' penal servitude if you don't." + +"Is the rope long enough?" + +"Plenty for that." + +Then there was another awful silence. + +By-and-by a man's legs came dangling down, and Cole landed on the sill, +still holding tight by the rope. He swung down on the sill, and slid +into the room, perspiring and white with fear. + +Coventry gave him some brandy directly,--Cole's trembling hand sent it +flying down his throat, and the two men stared at each ether. + +"Why, it is a gentleman!" + +"Yes." + +"And do you really mean to see me clear?" + +"Drink a little more brandy, and recover yourself, and then I'll tell +you." + +When the man was fortified and ready for fresh exertions, Coventry told +him he must try and slip out of the house at the front door: he would +lend him a feather and some oil to apply to the bolts if necessary. + +When the plan of operation was settled, Coventry asked him how long it +would take him to get to Hillsborough. + +"I can run it in two hours." + +"Then if I give the alarm in an hour and a half, it won't hurt." + +"Give me that start and you may send bloodhounds on my heels, they'll +never catch me." + +"Now take off your shoes." + +While he was taking them off, Cole eyed his unexpected friend very +keenly, and took stock of all his features. + +When he was ready, Coventry opened his door very carefully, and placed a +light so as to be of some use to the fugitive. Cole descended the stairs +like a cat, and soon found the heavy bolts and drew them; then slipped +out into the night, and away, with fleet foot and wondering heart, to +Hillsborough. + +Coventry put out his light and slipped into bed. + +About four o'clock in the morning the whole house was alarmed with loud +cries, followed by two pistol-shots: and all those who ran out of their +bedrooms at all promptly, found Coventry in his nightgown and trowsers, +with a smoking pistol in his hand, which he said he had discharged at a +robber. The account he gave was, that he had been suddenly awakened by +hearing his door shut, and found his window open; had slipped on his +trowsers, got to his pistols, and run out just in time to see a man +opening the great front door: had fired twice at him, and thought he +must have hit him the second time. + +On examining the window the rope was found dangling. + +Instantly there was a rush to the strong-room. + +The bird was flown. + +"Ah!" said Coventry. "I felt there ought to be some one with him, but I +didn't like to interfere." + +George the groom and another were mounted on swift horses, and took the +road to Hillsborough. + +But Cole, with his start of a hundred minutes, was safe in a back slum +before they got half way. + +What puzzled the servants most was how Cole could have unscrewed the +bar, and where he could have obtained the cord. And while they were +twisting this matter every way in hot discussion, Coventry quaked, for +he feared his little gunscrews would be discovered. But no, they were +not in the room. + +It was a great mystery; but Raby said they ought to have searched the +man's body as well as his pockets. + +He locked the cord up, however, and remarked it was a new one, and had +probably been bought in Hillsborough. He would try and learn where. + +At breakfast-time a bullet was found in the door. Coventry apologized. + +"Your mistake was missing the man, not hitting the door," said Raby. +"One comfort, I tickled the fellow with small shot. It shall be slugs +next time. All we can do now is to lay the matter before the police. I +must go into Hillsborough, I suppose." + +He went into Hillsborough accordingly, and told the chief constable the +whole story, and deposited the piece of cord with him. He found that +zealous officer already acquainted with the outline of the business, +and on his mettle to discover the authors and agents of the outrage, if +possible. And it occurred to his sagacity that there was at this moment +a workman in Hillsborough, who must know many secrets of the Trades, and +had now nothing to gain by concealing them. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + + +Thus the attempt to do Little was more successful than it looks. Its +object was to keep Little and Simmons apart, and sure enough those two +men never met again in life. + +But, on the other hand, this new crime imbittered two able men against +the Union, and put Grotait in immediate peril. Mr. Ransome conferred +with Mr. Holdfast and they both visited Simmons, and urged him to make a +clean breast before he left the world. + +Simmons hesitated. He said repeatedly, "Gi' me time! gi' me time!" + +Grotait heard of these visits, and was greatly alarmed. He set Dan +Tucker and another to watch by turns and report. + +Messrs. Holdfast and Ransome had an ally inside the house. Eliza Watney +had come in from another town, and had no Hillsborough prejudices. She +was furious at this new outrage on Little, who had won her regard, +and she hoped her brother-in-law would reveal all he knew. Such a +confession, she thought, might remove the stigma from himself to those +better-educated persons, who had made a tool of her poor ignorant +relative. + +Accordingly no sooner did the nurse Little had provided inform her, in a +low voice, that there was A CHANGE, than she put on her bonnet, and went +in all haste to Mr. Holdfast, and also to the chief constable, as she +had promised them to do. + +But of course she could not go without talking. She met an acquaintance +not far from the door, and told her Ned was near his end, and she was +going to tell the gentlemen. + +Dan Tucker stepped up to this woman, and she was as open-mouthed to him +as Eliza had been to her. Dan went directly with the news to Grotait. + +Grotait came all in a hurry, but Holdfast was there before him, and was +actually exhorting Simmons to do a good action in his last moments, and +reveal those greater culprits who had employed him, when Grotait, ill at +ease, walked in, sat down at the foot of the bed, and fixed his eye on +Simmons. + +Simmons caught sight of him and stared, but said nothing to him. Yet, +when Holdfast had done, Simmons was observed to look at Grotait, though +he replied to the other. "If you was a Hillsbro' man, you'd know we tell +on dead folk, but not on quick. I told on Ned Simmons, because he was as +good as dead; but to tell on Trade, that's different." + +"And I think, my poor fellow," suggested Grotait, smoothly, "you might +spend your last moments better in telling US what you would wish the +Trade to do for your wife, and the child if it lives." + +"Well, I think ye might make the old gal an allowance till she marries +again." + +"Oh, Ned! Ned!" cried the poor woman. "I'll have no man after thee." And +a violent burst of grief followed. + +"Thou'll do like the rest," said the dying man. "Hold thy bellering, and +let me speak, that's got no time to lose. How much will ye allow her, +old lad?" + +"Six shillings a week, Ned." + +"And what is to come of young 'un?" + +"We'll apprentice him." + +"To my trade?" + +"You know better than that, Ned. You are a freeman; but he won't be a +freeman's son by our law, thou knowst. But there's plenty of outside +trades in Hillsbro'. We'll bind him to one of those, and keep an eye on +him, for thy sake." + +"Well, I must take what I can get." + +"And little enough too," said Eliza Watney. "Now do you know that they +have set upon Mr. Little and beaten him within an inch of his life? Oh, +Ned, you can't approve that, and him our best friend." + +"Who says I approve it, thou fool?" + +"Then tell the gentleman who the villain was; for I believe you know." + +"I'll tell 'em summut about it." + +Grotait turned pale; but still kept his glittering eye fixed on the sick +man. + +"The job was offered to me; but I wouldn't be in it. I know that much. +Says I, 'He has had his squeak.'" + +"Who offered you the job?" asked Mr. Holdfast. And at this moment +Ransome came in. + +"What, another black coat!" said Simmons. "----, if you are not like so +many crows over a dead horse." He then began to wander, and Holdfast's +question remained unanswered. + +This aberration continued so long, and accompanied with such +interruptions of the breathing, that both Holdfast and Ransome despaired +of ever hearing another rational word from the man's lips. + +They lingered on, however, and still Grotait sat at the foot of the bed, +with his glittering eye fixed on the dying man. + +Presently Simmons became silent, and reflected. + +"Who offered me the job to do Little?" said he, in a clear rational +voice. + +"Yes," said Mr. Holdfast. "And who paid you to blow up the forge?" +Simmons made no reply. His fast fleeting powers appeared unable now to +hold an idea for above a second or two. + +Yet, after another short interval, he seemed to go back a second time to +the subject as intelligibly as ever. + +"Master Editor!" said he, with a sort of start. + +"Yes." And Holdfast stepped close to his bedside. + +"Can you keep a secret?" + +Grotait started up. + +"Yes!" said Holdfast, eagerly. + +"THEN SO CAN I." + +These were the last words of Ned Simmons. He died, false to himself, but +true to his fellows, and faithful to a terrible confederacy, which, in +England and the nineteenth century, was Venice and the middle ages over +again. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + + +Mr. Coventry, relieved of a great and immediate anxiety, could now turn +his whole attention to Grace Carden; and she puzzled him. He expected to +see her come down beaming with satisfaction at the great event of last +night. Instead of that she appeared late, with cheeks rather pale, and +signs of trouble under her fair eyes. + +As the day wore on, she showed positive distress of mind, irritable and +dejected by turns, and quite unable to settle to anything. + +Mr. Coventry, with all his skill, was quite at fault. He could +understand her being in anxiety for news about Little; but why not +relieve her anxiety by sending a servant to inquire? Above all, why this +irritation? this positive suffering? + +A mystery to him, there is no reason why it should be one to my readers. +Grace Carden, for the first time in her life, was in the clutches of a +fiend, a torturing fiend, called jealousy. + +The thought that another woman was nursing Henry Little all this time +distracted her. It would have been such heaven to her to tend him, after +those cruel men had hurt him so; but that pure joy was given to another, +and that other loved him, and could now indulge and show her love. Show +it? Why, she had herself opened his eyes to Jael's love, and advised him +to reward it. + +And now she could do nothing to defend herself. The very improvement in +Henry's circumstances held her back. She could not write to him and say, +"Now I know you are Mr. Raby's nephew, that makes all the difference." +That would only give him fresh offense, and misrepresent herself; for +in truth she had repented her letter long before the relationship was +discovered. + +No; all she could do was to wait till Jael Dence came up, and then +charge her with some subtle message, that might make Henry Little pause +if he still loved her. + +She detected Coventry watching her. She fled directly to her own room, +and there sat on thorns, waiting for her rival to come and give her an +opportunity. + +But afternoon came, and no Jael; evening came, and no Jael. + +"Ah!" thought Grace, bitterly, "she is better employed than to come +near me. She is not a self-sacrificing fool like me. When I had the +advantage, I gave it up; now she has got it, she uses it without mercy, +decency, or gratitude. And that is the way to love. Oh! if my turn could +but come again. But it never will." + +Having arrived at this conclusion, she lay on the couch in her own room, +and was thoroughly miserable. + +She came down to dinner, and managed to take a share in the +conversation, but was very languid; and Coventry detected that she had +been crying. + +After dinner, Knight brought in a verbal message from Jael to Mr. Raby, +to the effect that the young gentleman was stiff and sore, and she had +sent into Hillsborough for Dr. Amboyne. + +"Quite right of her," said the squire. "You needn't look so alarmed, +Grace; there are no bones broken; and he is in capital hands: he +couldn't have a tenderer nurse than that great strapping lass, nor a +better doctor than my friend and maniac, Amboyne." + +Next morning, soon after breakfast, Raby addressed his guests as +follows:--"I was obliged to go into Hillsborough yesterday, and postpone +the purification of that sacred building. But I set a watch on it; and +this day I devote to a pious purpose; I'm going to un-Little the church +of my forefathers; and you can come with me, if you choose." This +invitation, however, was given in a tone so gloomy, and so little +cordial, that Coventry, courtier-like, said in reply, he felt it would +be a painful sight to his host, and the fewer witnesses the better. Raby +nodded assent, and seemed pleased. Not so Miss Carden. She said: "If +that is your feeling, you had better stay at home. I shall go. I have +something to tell Mr. Raby when we get there; and I'm vain enough +to think it will make him not quite so angry about the poor dear old +church." + +"Then come, by all means," said Raby; "for I'm angry enough at present." + +Before they got half way to the church, they were hailed from behind: +and turning round, saw the burly figure of Dr. Amboyne coming after +them. + +They waited for him, and he came up with them. He had heard the whole +business from Little, and was warm in the praises of his patient. + +To a dry inquiry from Raby, whether he approved of his patient +desecrating a church, he said, with delicious coolness, he thought there +was not much harm in that, the church not being used for divine service. + +At this, Raby uttered an inarticulate but savage growl; and Grace, to +avert a hot discussion, begged the doctor not to go into that question, +but to tell her how Mr. Little was. + +"Oh, he has received some severe contusions, but there is nothing +serious. He is in good hands, I assure you. I met him out walking with +his nurse; and I must say I never saw a handsomer couple. He is dark; +she is fair. She is like the ancient statues of Venus, massive and +grand, but not clumsy; he is lean and sinewy, as a man ought to be." + +"Oh, doctor, this from you?" said Grace, with undisguised spite. + +"Well, it WAS a concession. He was leaning on her shoulder, and her +face and downcast eyes were turned toward him so sweetly--said I to +myself--Hum!" + +"What!" said Raby. "Would you marry him to a farmer's daughter?" + +"No; I'd let him marry whom he likes; only, having seen him and his +nurse together, it struck me that, between two such fine creatures of +the same age, the tender relation of patient and nurse, sanctioned, as I +hear it is, by a benevolent uncle--" + +"Confound your impudence!" + +"--Would hardly stop there. What do you think, Miss Carden?" + +"I'll tell you, if you will promise, on your honor, never to repeat what +I say." And she slackened her pace, and lingered behind Mr. Raby. + +He promised her. + +"Then," she whispered in his ear, "I HATE YOU!" + +And her eyes flashed blue fire at him, and startled him. + +Then she darted forward, and took Mr. Raby's arm, with a scarlet face, +and a piteous deprecating glance shot back at the sagacious personage +she had defied. + +Dr. Amboyne proceeded instantly to put himself in this young lady's +place, and so divine what was the matter. The familiar process soon +brought a knowing smile to his sly lip. + +They entered the church, and went straight to the forge. + +Raby stood with folded arms, and contemplated the various acts of +sacrilege with a silent distress that was really touching. + +Amboyne took more interest in the traces of the combat. "Ah!" said he, +"this is where he threw the hot coals in their faces--he has told me all +about it. And look at this pool of blood on the floor! Here he felled +one of them with his shovel. What is this? traces of blood leading up to +this chest!" + +He opened the chest, and found plain proofs inside that the wounded man +had hid himself in it for some time. He pointed this out to Raby; and +gave it as his opinion that the man's confederates had come back for +him, and carried him away. "These fellows are very true to one another. +I have often admired them for that." + +Raby examined the blood-stained interior of the chest, and could not +help agreeing with the sagacious doctor. + +"Yes," said he, sadly; "if we had been sharp, we might have caught the +blackguard. But I was in a hurry to leave the scene of sacrilege. Look +here; the tomb of a good knight defiled into an oven, and the pews +mutilated--and all for the base uses of trade." And in this strain he +continued for a long time so eloquently that, at last, he roused Grace +Carden's ire. + +"Mr. Raby," said she, firmly, "please add to those base uses one more. +One dismal night, two poor creatures, a man and a woman, lost their +way in the snow; and, after many a hard struggle, the cold and the snow +overpowered them, and death was upon them. But, just at her last gasp, +the girl saw a light, and heard the tinkling of a hammer. She tottered +toward it; and it was a church. She just managed to strike the door with +her benumbed hands, and then fell insensible. When she came to herself, +gentle hands had laid her before two glorious fires in that cold tomb +there. Then the same gentle hands gave her food and wine, and words +of comfort, and did everything for her that brave men do for poor weak +suffering women. Yes, sir, it was my life he saved, and Mr. Coventry's +too; and I can't bear to hear a word against him, especially while I +stand looking at his poor forge, and his grates, that you abuse; but +I adore them, and bless them; and so would you, if they had saved +your life, as they did mine. You don't love me one bit; and it is very +cruel." + +Raby stood astonished and silent. At last he said, in a very altered +tone, quite mild and deprecating, "Why did you not tell me this before?" + +"Because he made us promise not. Would you have had me betray my +benefactor?" + +"No. You are a brave girl, an honest girl. I love you more than a bit, +and, for your sake, I forgive him the whole thing. I will never call +it sacrilege again, since its effect was to save an angel's life. Come, +now, you have shown a proper spirit, and stood up for the absent, and +brought me to submission by your impetuosity, so don't spoil it all by +crying." + +"No, I won't," said Grace, with a gulp. But her tears would not cease +all in a moment. She had evoked that tender scene, in which words and +tears of true and passionate love had rained upon her. They were an era +in her life; had swept forever out of her heart all the puny voices that +had prattled what they called love to her; and that divine music, should +she ever hear it again? She had resigned it, had bidden it shine upon +another. For this, in reality, her tears were trickling. + +Mr. Raby took a much lighter view of it, and, to divert attention from +her, he said, "Hallo! why this inscription has become legible. It used +to be only legible in parts. Is that his doing?" + +"Not a doubt of it," said Amboyne. + +"Set that against his sacrilege." + +"Miss Carden and I are both agreed it was not sacrilege. What is here in +this pew? A brass! Why this is the brass we could none of us decipher. +Hang me, if he has not read it, and restored it!" + +"So he has. And where's the wonder? We live in a glorious age" (Raby +smiled) "that has read the written mountains of the East, and the +Abyssinian monuments: and he is a man of the age, and your mediaeval +brasses are no more to him than cuneiform letters to Rawlinson. Let me +read this resuscitated record. 'Edith Little, daughter of Robert Raby, +by Leah Dence his wife:' why here's a hodge-podge! What! have the noble +Rabys intermarried with the humble Dences?" + +"So it seems. A younger son." + +"And a Raby, daughter of Dence, married a Little three hundred years +ago?" + +"So it seems." + +"Then what a pity this brass was not deciphered thirty years ago! But +never mind that. All I demand is tardy justice to my protege. Is +not this a remarkable man? By day he carves wood, and carries out a +philanthropic scheme (which I mean to communicate to you this very day, +together with this young man's report); at night he forges tools that +all Hillsborough can't rival; in an interval of his work he saves a +valuable life or two; in another odd moment he fights like a lion, one +to four; even in his moments of downright leisure, when he is neither +saving life nor taking it, he practices honorable arts, restores the +fading letters of a charitable bequest, and deciphers brasses, and +vastly improves his uncle's genealogical knowledge, who, nevertheless, +passed for an authority, till my Crichton stepped upon the scene." + +Raby bore all this admirably. "You may add," said he, "that he +nevertheless finds time to correspond with his friends. Here is a +letter, addressed to Miss Carden, I declare!" + +"A letter to me!" said Grace, faintly. + +Raby handed it over the pew to her, and turned the address, so that she +could judge for herself. + +She took it very slowly and feebly, and her color came and went. + +"You seemed surprised; and so am I. It must have been written two days +ago." + +"Yes." + +"Why, what on earth could he have to say to you?" + +"I suppose it is the reply to mine," stammered Grace. + +Mr. Raby looked amazement, and something more. + +Grace faltered out an explanation. "When he had saved my life, I was so +grateful I wanted to make him a return. I believed Jael Dence and he--I +have so high an opinion of her--I ventured to give him a hint that he +might find happiness there." + +Raby bit his lip. "A most singular interference on the part of a young +lady," said he, stiffly. "You are right, doctor; this age resembles +no other. I suppose you meant it kindly; but I am very sorry you felt +called upon, at your age, to put any such idea into the young man's +head." + +"So am I," said poor Grace. "Oh, pray forgive me. I am so unhappy." And +she hid her face in her hands. + +"Of course I forgive you," said Raby. "But, unfortunately, I knew +nothing of all this, and went and put him under her charge; and here he +has found a precedent for marrying a Dence--found it on this confounded +brass! Well, no matter. Life is one long disappointment. What does he +say? Where is the letter gone to? It has vanished." + +"I have got it safe," said Grace, deprecatingly. + +"Then please let me know what he says." + +"What, read his letter to you?" + +"Why not, pray? I'm his uncle. He is my heir-at-law. I agree with +Amboyne, he has some fine qualities. It is foolish of me, no doubt, +but I am very anxious to know what he says about marrying my tenant's +daughter." Then, with amazing dignity, "Can I be mistaken in thinking +I have a right to know who my nephew intends to marry?" And he began to +get very red. + +Grace hung her head, and, trembling a little, drew the letter very +slowly out of her bosom. + +It just flashed through her mind how cruel it was to make her read out +the death-warrant of her heart before two men; but she summoned all a +woman's fortitude and self-defense, prepared to hide her anguish under a +marble demeanor, and quietly opened the letter. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + + +"You advise me to marry one, when I love another; and this, you think, +is the way to be happy. It has seldom proved so, and I should despise +happiness if I could only get it in that way. + +"Yours, sadly but devotedly, + +"H. LITTLE. + +"Will you wait two years?" + + +Grace, being on her defense, read this letter very slowly, and as if +she had to decipher it. That gave her time to say, "Yours, et cetera," +instead of "sadly and devotedly." (Why be needlessly precise?) As for +the postscript, she didn't trouble them with that at all. + +She then hurried the letter into her pocket, that it might not be asked +for, and said, with all the nonchalance she could manage to assume, "Oh, +if he loves somebody else!" + +"No; that is worse still," said Mr. Raby. "In his own rank of life, it +is ten to one if he finds anything as modest, as good, and as loyal as +Dence's daughter. It's some factory-girl, I suppose." + +"Let us hope not," said Grace, demurely; but Amboyne noticed that her +cheek was now flushed, and her eyes sparkling like diamonds. + +Soon afterward she strolled apart, and took a wonderful interest in the +monuments and things, until she found an opportunity to slip out into +the church-yard. There she took the letter out, and kissed it again and +again, as if she would devour it; and all the way home she was as gay as +a lark. Amboyne put himself in her place. + +When they got home, he said to her, "My dear Miss Carden, I have a favor +to ask you. I want an hour's conversation with Mr. Raby. Will you be so +very kind as to see that I am not interrupted?" + +"Oh yes. No; you must tell me, first, what you are going to talk about. +I can't have gentlemen talking nonsense together UNINTERRUPTEDLY." + +"You ladies claim to monopolize nonsense, eh? Well, I am going to talk +about my friend, Mr. Little. Is he nonsense?" + +"That depends. What are you going to say about him?" + +"Going to advance his interests--and my own hobby. Such is man." + +"Never mind what is man; what is your hobby?" + +"Saving idiotic ruffians' lives." + +"Well, that is a hobby. But, if Mr. Little is to profit by it, never +mind; you shall not be interrupted, if I can keep 'les facheux' away." + +Accordingly she got her work, and sat in the hall. Here, as she +expected, she was soon joined by Mr. Coventry, and he found her in a +gracious mood, and in excellent spirits. + +After some very pleasant conversation, she told him she was keeping +sentinel over Dr. Amboyne and his hobby. + +"What is that?" + +"Saving idiotic ruffians' lives. Ha! ha! ha!" + +Her merry laugh rang through the hall like a peal of bells. + +Coventry stared, and then gave up trying to understand her and her +eternal changes. He just set himself to please her, and he never found +it easier than that afternoon. + +Meantime Dr. Amboyne got Raby alone, and begged leave, in the first +place, to premise that his (Raby's) nephew was a remarkable man. To +prove it, he related Little's whole battle with the Hillsborough Trades; +and then produced a report the young man had handed him that very day. +It was actually in his pocket during the fight, mute protest against +that barbarous act. + +The Report was entitled--"LIFE, LABOR AND CAPITAL IN HILLSBOROUGH," and +was divided into two parts. + +Part 1 was entitled--"PECULIARITIES OF CUTLERY HURTFUL TO LIFE AND +HEALTH." + +And part 2 was entitled--"The REMEDIES TO THE ABOVE." + +Part 2 was divided thus:-- + +A. What the masters could do. + +B. What the workmen could do. + +C. What the Legislature could do. + +Part 1 dealt first with the diseases of the grinders; but instead of +quoting it, I ask leave to refer to Chapter VIII., where the main facts +lie recorded. + + +Having thus curtailed the Report, I print the remainder in an Appendix, +for the use of those few readers who can endure useful knowledge in +works of this class. + +Raby read the report without moving a muscle. + + +"Well, what do you think of him?" asked Amboyne. + +"I think he is a fool to trouble his head whether these animals live or +die." + +"Oh, that is my folly; not his. At bottom, he cares no more than you +do." + +"Then I retract my observation." + +"As to its being folly, or as to Little being the fool?" + +"Whichever you like best." + +"Thank you. Well, but to be serious, this young man is very anxious +to be a master, instead of a man. What do you say? Will you help his +ambition, and my sacred hobby?" + +"What, plunge you deeper in folly, and him in trade? Not I. I don't +approve folly, I hate trade. But I tell you what I'll do. If he and his +mother can see my conduct in its proper light, and say so, they can come +to Raby, and he can turn gentleman, take the name of Raby, as he has got +the face, and be my heir." + +"Are you serious, Raby?" + +"Perfectly." + +"Then you had better write it, and I'll take it to him." + +"Certainly." He sat down and wrote as follows: + + +"SIR,--What has recently occurred appears calculated to soften one of +those animosities which, between persons allied in blood, are always to +be regretted. I take the opportunity to say, that if your mother, under +your advice, will now reconsider the duties of a trustee, and my conduct +in that character, and her remarks on that conduct, I think she will do +me justice, and honor me once more with her esteem. Should this be the +result, I further hope that she and yourself will come to Raby, and that +you will change that way of life which you have found so full of +thorns, and prepare yourself to succeed to my name and place. I am, your +obedient servant, + +"GUY RABY." + + +"There read that." + +Amboyne read it, and approved it. Then he gave a sigh, and said, "And so +down goes my poor hobby." + +"Oh, never mind," said Raby; "you've got one or two left in your +stable." + +Dr. Amboyne went out, and passed through the hall. There he found Mr. +Coventry and Miss Carden: the latter asked him, rather keenly, if the +conference was over. + +"Yes, and not without a result: I'll read it to you." He did so, and +Grace's cheek was dyed with blushes, and her eyes beamed with joy. + +"Oh, how noble is, and how good you are. Run! Fly!" + +"Such movements are undignified, and unsuited to my figure. Shall I roll +down the hill? That would be my quickest way." + +This discussion was cut short by a servant, who came to tell the doctor +that a carriage was ordered for him, and would be round in a minute. Dr. +Amboyne drove off, and Miss Carden now avoided Coventry: she retired +to her room. But, it seems, she was on the watch; for, on the doctor's +return, she was the person who met him in the hall. + +"Well?" said she, eagerly. + +"Well, would you believe it? he declines. He objects to leave his way of +life, and to wait for dead men's shoes." + +"Oh, Dr. Amboyne! And you were there to advise him!" + +"I did not venture to advise him. There was so much to be said on both +sides." Then he went off to Raby with the note; but, as he went, he +heard Grace say, in a low voice, "Ah, you never thought of me." + +Little's note ran thus: + + +"SIR,--I thank you for your proposal; and as to the first part of it, I +quite agree, and should be glad to see my mother and you friends again. +But, as to my way of life, I have chosen my path, and mean to stick to +it. I hope soon to be a master, instead of a workman, and I shall try +and behave like a gentleman, so that you may not have to blush for me. +Should blush for myself if I were to give up industry and independence, +and take to waiting for dead men's shoes; that is a baser occupation +than any trade in Hillsborough, I think. This is not as politely written +as I could wish; but I am a blunt fellow, and I hope you will excuse +it. I am not ungrateful to you for shooting those vermin, nor for your +offer, though I can not accept it. Yours respectfully, + +"HENRY LITTLE." + + +Raby read this, and turned white with rage. + +He locked the letter up along with poor Mrs. Little's letters, and +merely said, "I have only one request to make. Never mention the name of +Little to me again." + +Dr. Amboyne went home very thoughtful. + +That same day Mr. Carden wrote from London to his daughter informing her +he should be at Hillsborough next day to dinner. She got the letter +next morning, and showed it to Mr. Raby. He ordered his carriage after +breakfast for Hillsborough. + +This was a blow to Grace. She had been hoping all this time a fair +opportunity might occur for saying something to young Little. + +She longed to write to him, and set his heart and her own at rest. But +a great shyness and timidity paralyzed her, and she gave up the idea +of writing, and had hitherto been hoping they might meet, and she might +reinstate herself by some one cunning word. And now the end of it all +was, that she was driven away from Raby Hall without doing any thing but +wish, and sigh, and resolve, and give up her resolutions with a blush. + +The carriage passed the farm on its way to Hillsborough. This was +Grace's last chance. + +Little was standing at the porch. + +A thrill of delight traversed Grace's bosom. + +It was followed, however, by a keen pang. Jael Dence sat beside him, +sewing; and Grace saw, in a moment, she was sewing complacently. It +was more than Grace could bear. She pulled the check-string, and the +carriage stopped. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + + +Henry Little, at this moment, was in very low spirits. His forge was in +the yard, and a faithful body-guard at his service; but his right arm +was in a sling, and so he was brought to a stand-still; and Coventry was +with Grace at the house; and he, like her, was tortured with jealousies; +and neither knew what the other suffered. + +But everything vanished in a flood of joy when the carriage stopped and +that enchanting face looked out at him, covered with blushes, that told +him he could not be indifferent to her. + +"Oh, Mr. Little, are you better?" + +"I'm all right. But, you see, I can't work." + +"Ah, poor arm. But why should you work? Why not accept Mr. Raby's offer? +How proud you are!" + +"Should you have thought any better of me if I had?" + +"No. I don't want you altered. It would spoil you. You will come and +see us at Woodbine Villa! Only think how many things we have to talk of +now." + +"May I?" + +"Why, of course." + +"And will you wait two years for me?" + +"Two years!" (blushing like a rose.) "Why, I hope it will not be two +days before you come and see us." + +"Ah, you mock me." + +"No; no. But suppose you should take the advice I gave you in my mad +letter?" + +"There's no fear of that." + +"Are you sure?" (with a glance at Jael.) + +"Quite sure." + +"Then--good-by. Please drive on." + +She wouldn't answer his question; but her blushes and her radiant +satisfaction, and her modest but eloquent looks of love, fully +compensated her silence on that head, and the carriage left him standing +there, a figure of rapture. + +Next day Dr. Amboyne rode up to the farm with a long envelope, and +waved it over his head in triumph. It contained a communication from the +Secretary of the Philanthropic Society. The committee were much struck +with Mr. Little's report, but feared that no manufacturer would act on +his suggestions. They were willing to advance L500 toward setting Mr. +Little himself up as a manufacturer, if he would bind himself to adopt +and carry out the improvements suggested in his report. The loan to bear +no interest, and the return of the capital to depend upon the success of +the scheme. Dr. Amboyne for the society, to have the right of inspecting +Mr. Little's books, if any doubt should arise on that head. An agreement +was inclosed, and this was more full, particular, and stringent in form +than the above, but the purport substantially the same. + +Little could not believe his good fortune at first. But there was no +disbelieving it; the terms were so cold, precise, and business-like. + +"Ah, doctor," said he, "you have made a man of me; for this is your +doing, I know." + +"Of course I used my influence. I was stimulated by two spurs, +friendship and my hobby. Now shake hands over it, and no fine speeches, +but tell me when you can begin. 'My soul's in arms, and eager for the +fray.'" + +"Begin? Why as soon as I get the money." + +"That will come down directly, if I telegraph that you accept the terms. +Call in a witness, and sign the agreement." + +Jael Dence was called in, and the agreement signed and witnessed, and +away went the doctor in high spirits, after making an appointment with +Henry in Hillsborough for the next day. + +Henry and Jael Dence talked eagerly over his new prospects. But though +they were great friends, there was nothing to excite Grace's jealousy. +No sooner was Little proved to be Raby's nephew than Jael Dence, in her +humility, shrank back, and was inwardly ashamed of herself. She became +respectful as well as kind; called him "the young master" behind his +back, and tried to call him "Sir" to his face, only he would not let +her. + +Next day Little went to his mother and told her all. She was deeply +interested, but bitterly disappointed at Henry's refusal of Raby's +offer. "He will never forgive us now," she said. "And oh, Henry, if you +love Grace Carden, that was the way to marry her." This staggered him; +but he said he had every reason to hope she would marry him without his +sacrificing his independence, and waiting with his hands in his pockets +for dead men's shoes. + +Then he went to Dr. Amboyne, and there were the five hundred pounds +waiting for him; but, never having possessed such a sum before, he +begged the doctor to give him only L100 at a time. To finish for the +present with this branch of the story, he was lucky enough to make an +excellent bargain, bought the plant and stock of a small master-grinder +recently deceased. He then confined the grinding to saws and razors; and +this enabled him to set up his own forge on the premises, and to employ +a few file-cutters. It was all he could do at starting. Then came +the important question, What would the Trades say? He was not long in +suspense; Grotait called on him, expressed his regret at the attack that +had been made on him, and his satisfaction that now the matter could be +happily arranged. "This," said he, "is the very proposal I was going to +make to you (but you wouldn't hear me), to set up as a small master, and +sell your carving-tools to London instead of to Hillsboro'." + +"What! will that make me right with the trade?" + +"Pretty near. We protect the workmen from unfair competition, not the +masters. However, if you wish to cure the sore altogether, let your own +hands grind the tools, and send them out to be handled by Parkin: he has +got men on the box; trade is dull." + +"Well, I don't object to that." + +"Then, I say, let by-gones be gone-byes." + +They shook hands over this, and in a very few hours it was known that +Mr. Little was right with the trade. + +His early experiences as a philanthropic master were rather curious; but +I shall ask leave to relate them in a series of their own, and to deal +at present with matters of more common interest. + +He called twice on Grace Carden; but she was out. The third time he +found her at home; but there was a lady with her, talking about the ball +Mr. and Miss Carden were about to give. It was a subject calculated to +excite volubility, and Henry could not get in a word edgewise. But he +received some kind glances that made his heart beat. + +The young lady sat there and gabbled; for she felt sure that no topic +imported by a male creature could compete in interest with "the ball." +So, at last, Henry rose in despair. But Grace, to whom her own ball had +been a bore for the last half hour, went with him to the door; and he +seized the opportunity to tell her he was a workmen no longer, but a +master, having workmen under him. + +Grace saw he was jubilant, so she was glad directly, and said so. + +But then she shook her pretty head, and hoped he would not have to +regret Mr. Raby's offer. + +"Never," said he, firmly; "unless I lose you. Now I'm a master, instead +of a man, won't you wait two years for me?" + +"No," said Grace, archly. Then, with a look that sent him to heaven, +"Not two, but TWENTY, sooner than you should be unhappy, after all you +and I--" + +The sentence was never completed. She clapped one hand swiftly before +her scarlet face, and ran away to hide, and think of what she had done. +It was full five minutes before she would bring her face under the eye +of that young gossip in the drawing-room. + +As for Henry, he received the blow full in his heart, and it quite +staggered him. He couldn't believe it at first; but when he realized +it, waves and waves of joy seemed to rise inside him, and he went off in +such a rapture he hardly trod the earth. + +He went home, and kissed his mother, and told her, and she sympathized +with him perforce, though she was jealous at bottom, poor thing. + + +The next day Grace received an unexpected visitor--Jael Dence. + +Grace stared at sight of her, and received her very coldly. + +"Oh, miss," said Jael, "don't look so at me that love you dearly;" and +with this threw her arms round her neck, and kissed her. + +Grace was moved by this; but felt uncomfortable, and even struggled +a little, but in vain. Jael was gentle, but mighty. "It's about your +letter, miss." + +"Then let me go," cried Grace. "I wish I had never written it." + +"Nay; don't say so. I should never have known how good you are." + +"What a fool I am, you mean. How dare you read my letter? Oh! did he +show it you? That was very cruel, if he did." + +"No, miss, he never showed it me; and I never read it. I call it mean +to read another body's letter. But, you know, 'tisn't every woman +thinks so: and a poor lass that is very fond of me--and I scold her +bitterly--she took the letter out of his pocket, and told me what was in +it." + +"Very well, then," said Grace, coldly, "it is right you should also read +his answer. I'll bring it you." + +"Not to-day, miss, if you please. There is no need. I know him: he is +too much of a man to marry one girl when he loves another; and 'tis you +he loves, and I hope you will be happy together." + +A few quiet tears followed these brave words, and Grace looked at her +askant, and began to do her justice. + +"Ah!" said she, with a twinge of jealousy, "you know him better than I. +You have answered for him, in his very words. Yet you can't love him +as I do. I hope you are not come to ask me to give him up again, for I +can't." Then she said, with quick defiance, "Take him from me, if you +can." Then, piteously, "And if you do, you will kill me." + +"Dear heart, I came of no such errand. I came to tell you I know how +generous you have been to me, and made me your friend till death; and, +when a Dence says that, she means it. I have been a little imprudent: +but not so very. First word I said to him, in this very house, was, 'Are +you really a workman?' I had the sense to put that question; for, the +first moment I clapped eyes on him, I saw my danger like. Well, he might +have answered me true; but you see he didn't. I think I am not so much +to blame. Well, he is the young squire now, and no mate for me; and he +loves you, that are of his own sort. That is sure to cure me--after +a while. Simple folk like me aren't used to get their way, like the +gentry. It takes a deal of patience to go through the world. If you +think I'll let my heart cling to another woman's sweetheart--nay, but +I'd tear it out of my breast first. Yes, I dare say, it will be a year +or two before I can listen to another man's voice without hating him for +wooing of me; but time cures all that don't fight against the cure. And +YOU'LL love me a little, miss, now, won't you? You used to do, before I +deserved it half as well as I do to-day." + +"Of course I shall love you, my poor Jael. But what is my love, compared +with that you are now giving up so nobly?" + +"It is not much," said Jael, frankly; "but 'a little breaks a high +fall.' And I'm one that can only enjoy my own. Better a penny roll with +a clear conscience, than my neighbor's loaf. I'd liever take your love, +and deserve it, than try to steal his." + +All this time Grace was silently watching her, to see if there was any +deceit, or self-deceit, in all this; and, had there been, it could not +have escaped so keen and jealous an eye. But no, the limpid eye, the +modest, sober voice, that trembled now and then, but always recovered +its resolution, repelled doubt or suspicion. + +Grace started to her feet, and said, with great enthusiasm. "I give you +the love and respect you deserve so well; and I thank God for creating +such a character now and then--to embellish this vile world." + +Then she flung herself upon Jael, with wonderful abandon and grace, and +kissed her so eagerly that she made poor Jael's tears flow very fast +indeed. + +She would not let her go back to Cairnhope. + + +Henry remembered about the ball, and made up his mind to go and stand in +the road: he might catch a glimpse of her somehow. He told his mother +he should not be home to supper; and to get rid of the time before +the ball, he went to the theater: thence, at ten o'clock, to "Woodbine +Villa," and soon found himself one of a motley group. Men, women, +and children were there to see the company arrive; and as, among +working-people, the idle and the curious are seldom well-to-do, they +were rather a scurvy lot, and each satin or muslin belle, brave with +flowers and sparkling with gems, had to pass through a little avenue of +human beings in soiled fustian, dislocated bonnets, rags, and unwashed +faces. + +Henry got away from this class of spectators, and took up his station +right across the road. He leaned against the lamp-post, and watched the +drawing-room windows for Grace. + +The windows were large, and, being French, came down to the balcony. +Little saw many a lady's head and white shoulders, but not the one he +sought. + +Presently a bedroom window was opened, and a fair face looked out into +the night for a moment. It was Jael Dence. + +She had assisted Miss Carden to dress, and had then, at her request, +prepared the room, and decked it with flowers, to receive a few of the +young lady's more favored friends. This done, she opened the window, and +Henry Little saw her. + +Nor was it long before she saw him; for the light of the lamp was full +on him. + +But he was now looking intently in at the drawing-room windows, and with +a ghastly expression. + +The fact is, that in the short interval between his seeing Jael and +her seeing him, the quadrilles had been succeeded by a waltz, and Grace +Carden's head and shoulders were now flitting at intervals, past the +window in close proximity to the head of her partner. What with her +snowy, glossy shoulders, her lovely face, and her exquisite head and +brow encircled with a coronet of pearls, her beauty seemed half-regal, +half-angelic; yet that very beauty, after the first thrill of joy which +the sudden appearance of a beloved one always causes, was now passing +cold iron through her lover's heart. For why? A man's arm was round the +supple waist, a man's hand held that delicate palm, a man's head seemed +wedded to that lovely head, so close were the two together. And the +encircling arm, the passing hand, the head that came and went, and rose +and sank, with her, like twin cherries on a stalk, were the arm, the +hand, and the head of Mr. Frederick Coventry. + +Every time those two heads flitted past the window together, they +inflicted a spasm of agony on Henry Little, and, between the spasms, +his thoughts were bitter beyond expression. An icy barrier still +between them, and none between his rival and her! Coventry could dance +voluptuously with her before all the world; but he could only stand at +the door of that Paradise, and groan and sicken with jealous anguish at +the sight. + +Now and then he looked up, and saw Jael Dence. She was alone. Like him, +she was excluded from that brilliant crowd. He and she were born to +work; these butterflies on the first floor, to enjoy. + +Their eyes met; he saw soft pity in hers. He cast a mute, but touching +appeal. She nodded, and withdrew from the window. Then he knew the +faithful girl would try and do something or other for him. + +But he never moved from his pillar of torture. Jealous agony is the one +torment men can not fly from; it fascinates, it holds, it maddens. + +Jael came to the drawing-room door just as the waltz ended, and tried +to get to Miss Carden; but there were too many ladies and gentlemen, +especially about the door. + +At last she caught Grace's eye, but only for a moment; and the young +lady was in the very act of going out on the balcony for air, with her +partner. + +She did go out, accompanied by Mr. Coventry, and took two or three +turns. Her cheek was flushed, her eye kindled, and the poor jealous +wretch over the way saw it, and ascribed all that to the company of his +rival. + +While she walked to and fro with fawn-like grace, conversing with Mr. +Coventry, yet secretly wondering what that strange look Jael had given +her could mean, Henry leaned, sick at heart, against the lamp-post over +the way; and, at last, a groan forced its way out of him. + +Faint as the sound was, Grace's quick ear caught it, and she turned her +head. She saw him directly, and blushed high, and turned pale, all in a +moment; for, in that single moment, her swift woman's heart told her why +he was so ghastly, and why that sigh of distress. + +She stopped short in her walk, and began to quiver from head to foot. + +But, after a few moments of alarm, distress, and perplexity, love and +high spirit supplied the place of tact, and she did the best and most +characteristic thing she could. Just as Mr. Coventry, who had observed +her shiver, was asking her if she found it too cold, she drew herself up +to her full height, and, turning round, kissed her hand over the balcony +to Henry Little with a sort of princely grandeur, and an ardor of +recognition and esteem that set his heart leaping, and his pale cheek +blushing, and made Coventry jealous in his turn. Yes, one eloquent +gesture did that in a moment. + +But the brave girl was too sensitive to prolong such a situation: the +music recommenced at that moment, and she seized the opportunity, and +retired to the room; she courtesied to Little at the window, and this +time he had the sense to lift his hat to her. + +The moment she entered the room Grace Carden slipped away from Mr. +Coventry, and wound her way like a serpent through the crowd, and found +Jael Dence at the door. She caught her by the arm, and pinched her. She +was all trembling. Jael drew her up the stairs a little way. + +"You have seen him out there?" + +"Yes; and I--oh!" + +"There! there. Think of the folk. Fight it down." + +"I will. Go to him, and say I can't bear it. Him to stand there--while +those I don't care a pin for--oh, Jael, for pity's sake get him home to +his mother." + +"There, don't you fret. I know what to say." + +Jael went down; borrowed the first shawl she could lay her hand on; +hooded herself with it, and was across the road in a moment. + +"You are to go home directly." + +"Who says so?" + +"She does." + +"What, does she tell me to go away, and leave her to him?" + +"What does that matter? her heart goes with you." + +"No, no." + +"Won't you take my word for it? I'm not given to lying." + +"I know that. Oh, Jael, sweet, pretty, good-hearted Jael, have pity on +me, and tell me the truth: is it me she loves, or that Coventry?" + +"It is you." + +"Oh, bless you! bless you! Ah, if I could only be sure of that, what +wouldn't I do for her? But, if she loves me, why, why send me away? It +is very cruel that so many should be in the same room with her, and HE +should dance with her, and I must not even look on and catch a glimpse +of her now and then. I won't go home." + +"Ah!" said Jael, "you are like all the young men: you think only of +yourself. And you call yourself a scholar of the good doctor's." + +"And so I am." + +"Then why don't you go by his rule, and put yourself in a body's place? +Suppose you was in her place, master of this house like, and dancing +with a pack of girls you didn't care for, and SHE stood out here, pale +and sighing; and suppose things were so that you couldn't come out to +her, nor she come in to you, wouldn't it cut you to the heart to see her +stand in the street and look so unhappy--poor lad? Be good, now, and +go home to thy mother. Why stand here and poison the poor young lady's +pleasure--such as 'tis--and torment thyself." Jael's own eyes filled, +and that proof of sympathy inclined Henry all the more to listen to her +reason. + +"You are wise, and good, and kind," he said. "But oh, Jael, I adore her +so, I'd rather be in hell with her than in heaven without her. Half a +loaf is better than no bread. I can't go home and turn my back on the +place where she is. Yes, I'm in torments; but I see. They can't rob my +EYES of her." + +"To oblige HER!" + +"Yes; I'll do anything to oblige HER. If I could only believe she loves +me." + +"Put it to the proof, if you don't believe me." + +"I will. Tell her I'd much rather stay all night, and catch a glimpse of +her now and then; but yet, tell her I'll go home, if she will promise me +not to dance with that Coventry again." + +"There is a condition!" said Jael. + +"It is a fair one," said Henry, doggedly, "and I won't go from it." + +Jael looked at him, and saw it was no use arguing the matter. So she +went in to the house with his ultimatum. + +She soon returned, and told him that Miss Grace, instead of being angry, +as she expected, had smiled and looked pleased, and promised not to +dance with Mr. Coventry nor any body else any more that night, "if he +would go straight home and consult his beautiful mother." "Those were +her words," said the loyal Dence. "She did say them twice over to make +sure." + +"God bless her!" cried Henry, warmly; "and bless you too, my best +friend. I'll go this moment." + +He cast a long, lingering look at the window, and went slowly down the +street. + +When he got home, his mother was still up and secretly anxious. + +He sat down beside her, and told her where he had been and how it had +all ended. "I'm to consult my beautiful mother," said he, kissing her. + +"What, does she think I am like my picture now?" + +"I suppose so. And you are as beautiful as ever in my eyes, mother. And +I do consult you." + +Mrs. Little's black eyes flashed; but she said, calmly, + +"What about, dearest?" + +"I really don't know. I suppose it was about what happened tonight. +Perhaps about it all." + +Mrs. Little leaned her head upon her hand and thought. + +After a moment's reflection, she said to Henry, rather coldly, "If she +is not a very good girl, she must be a very clever one." + +"She is both," said Henry, warmly. + +"Of that I shall be the best judge," said Mrs. Little, very coldly +indeed. + +Poor Henry felt quite chilled. He said no more; nor did his mother +return to the subject till they parted for the night, and then it was +only to ask him what church Miss Carden went to--a question that seemed +to be rather frivolous, but he said he thought St. Margaret's. + +Next Sunday evening, Mrs. Little and he being at tea together, she said +to him quietly--"Well, Harry, I have seen her." + +"Oh mother! where?" + +"At St. Margaret's Church." + +"But how did you know her? By her beauty?" + +Mrs. Little smiled, and took a roll of paper out of her muff, that lay +on the sofa. She unfolded it, and displayed a drawing. It represented +Grace Carden in her bonnet, and was a very good likeness. + +The lover bounced on it, and devoured it with astonishment and delight. + +"Taken from the bust, and retouched from nature," said Mrs. Little. +"Yes, dear, I went to St. Margaret's, and asked a pew-opener where she +sat. I placed myself where I could command her features; and you may be +sure, I read her very closely. Well, dear, she bears examination. It is +a bright face, a handsome face, and a good face; and almost as much in +love as you are." + +"What makes you fancy that? Oh, you spoke to her?" + +"Certainly not. But I observed her. Restless and listless by turns--her +body in one place, her mind in another. She was so taken up with her own +thoughts she could not follow the service. I saw the poor girl try very +hard several times, but at last she gave it up in despair. Sometimes +she knitted her brow and a young girl seldom does that unless she is +thwarted in her love. And I'll tell you a surer sign still: sometimes +tears came for no visible reason, and stood in her eyes. She is in love; +and it can not be with Mr. Coventry of Bollinghope; for, if she loved +him, she would have nothing to brood on but her wedding-dress; and they +never knit their brows, nor bedew their eyes, thinking of that; that's +a smiling subject. No, it is true love on both sides, I do believe; +and that makes my woman's heart yearn. Harry, dear, I'll make you +a confession. You have heard that a mother's love is purer and more +unselfish than any other love: and so it is. But even mothers are not +quite angels always. Sometimes they are just a little jealous: not, I +think, where they are blessed with many children; but you are my one +child, my playmate, my companion, my friend, my only love. That sweet +girl has come, and I must be dethroned. I felt this, and--no, nothing +could ever make me downright thwart your happiness; but a mother's +jealousy made me passive, where I might have assisted you if I had been +all a mother should be." + +"No, no, mother; I am the one to blame. You see, it looked so hopeless +at first, I used to be ashamed to talk freely to you. It's only of late +I have opened my heart to you as I ought." + +"Well, dear, I am glad you think the blame is not all with me. But what +I see is my own fault, and mean to correct it. She gave you good advice, +dear--to consult your mother. But you shall have my assistance as well; +and I shall begin at once, like a zealous ally. When I say at once--this +is Sunday--I shall begin to-morrow at one o'clock." + +Then Henry sat down at her knee, and took her white hand in his brown +ones. + +"And what shall you do at one o'clock, my beautiful mother?" + +"I shall return to society." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + + +Next morning Mrs. Little gave her son the benefit of her night's +reflections. + +"You must let me have some money--all you can spare from your business; +and whilst I am doing something with it for you, you must go to London, +and do exactly what I tell you to do." + +"Exactly? Then please write it down." + +"A very good plan. Can you go by the express this morning?" + +"Why, yes, I could; only then I must run down to the works this minute +and speak to the foreman." + +"Well, dear, when you come back, your instructions shall be written, and +your bag packed." + +"I say, mother, you are going into it in earnest. All the better for +me." + +At twelve he started for London, with a beautiful set of carving-tools +in his bag, and his mother's instructions in his pocket: those +instructions sent him to a fashionable tailor that very afternoon. With +some difficulty he prevailed on this worthy to make him a dress-suit in +twenty-four hours. Next day he introduced himself to the London trade, +showed his carving-tools, and, after a hard day's work, succeeded in +obtaining several orders. + +Then he bought some white ties and gloves and an opera hat, and had his +hair cut in Bond Street. + +At seven he got his clothes at the tailor's, and at eight he was in the +stalls of the opera. His mother had sent him there, to note the dress +and public deportment of gentlemen and ladies, and use his own judgment. +He found his attention terribly distracted by the music and the raptures +it caused him; but still he made some observations; and, consequently, +next day he bought some fashionable shirts and sleeve studs and ribbon +ties; ordered a morning suit of the same tailor, to be sent to him at +Hillsborough; and after canvassing for customers all day, telegraphed +his mother, and reached Hillsborough at eleven P.M. + +At first sight of him Mrs. Little exclaimed: + +"Oh! What have you done with your beautiful hair?" + +He laughed, and said this was the fashion. + +"But it is like a private soldier." + +"Exactly. Part of the Volunteer movement, perhaps." + +"Are you sure it is the fashion, dear?" + +"Quite sure. All the swells in the opera were bullet-headed just like +this." + +"Oh, if it is the fashion!" said Mrs. Little; and her mind succumbed +under that potent word. + +She asked him about the dresses of the ladies in the opera. + +His description was very lame. He said he didn't know he was expected to +make notes of them. + +"Well, but you might be sure I should like to know. Were there no ladies +dressed as you would like to see your mother dressed?" + +"Good heavens, no! I couldn't fancy you in a lot of colors; and your +beautiful head deformed into the shape of a gourd, with a beast of a +chignon stuck out behind, made of dead hair." + +"No matter. Mr. Henry; I wish I had been with you at the opera. I should +have seen something or other that would have become me." She gave a +little sigh. + +He was not to come home to dinner that day, but stay at the works, till +she sent for him. + +At six o'clock, Jael Dence came for him in a fly, and told him he was to +go home with her. + +"All right," said he; "but how did you come there?" + +"She bade me come and see her again--that day I brought the bust. So I +went to see her, and I found her so busy, and doing more than she was +fit, poor thing, so I made bold to give her a hand. That was yesterday; +and I shall come every day--if 'tis only for an hour--till the curtains +are all up." + +"The curtains! what curtains?" + +"Ask no questions, and you will hear no lies." + +Henry remonstrated; Jael recommended patience; and at last they reached +a little villa half way up Heath Hill. "You are at home now," said Jael, +dryly. The new villa looked very gay that evening, for gas and fires +were burning in every room. + +The dining-room and drawing room were both on the ground-floor; had each +one enormous window with plate glass, and were rooms of very fair size, +divided by large folding-doors. These were now open, and Henry found his +mother seated in the dining-room, with two workwomen, making curtains, +and in the drawing-room were two more, sewing a carpet. + +The carpet was down in the dining-room. The tea-table was set, and gave +an air of comfort and housewifely foresight, in the midst of all the +surrounding confusion. + +Young Little stared. Mrs. Little smiled. + +"Sit down, and never mind us: give him his tea, my good Jael." + +Henry sat down, and, while Jael was making the tea, ventured on a feeble +expostulation. "It's all very fine, mother, but I don't like to see you +make a slave of yourself." + +"Slaving!" said Jael, with a lofty air of pity. "Why, she is working for +her own." Rural logic! + +"Oh," said Mrs. Little to her, "these clever creatures we look up to so +are rather stupid in some things. Slave! Why, I am a general leading my +Amazons to victory." And she waved her needle gracefully in the air. + +"Well, but why not let the shop do them, where you bought the curtains?' + +"Because, my dear, the shop would do them very badly, very dearly, and +very slowly. Do you remember reading to me about Caesar, and what he +said--'that a general should not say to his troops "GO and attack +the enemy," "but COME and attack the enemy"?' Well, that applies to +needle-work. I say to these ladies, 'COME sew these curtains with me;' +and the consequence is, we have done in three days what no shop in +Hillsborough would have done for us in a fortnight; but, as for slaves, +the only one has been my good Jael there. She insisted on moving all the +heavy boxes herself. She dismissed the porter; she said he had no pith +in his arms--that was your expression, I think?" + +"Ay, ma'am; that was my word: and I never spoke a truer; the useless +body. Why, ma'am, the girls in Cairnhope are most of them well-grown +hussies, and used to work in the fields, and carry full sacks of grain +up steps. Many's the time I have RUN with a sack of barley on my back: +so let us hear no more about your bits of boxes. I wish my mind was as +strong." + +"Heaven forbid!" said Mrs. Little, with comic fervor. Henry laughed. But +Jael only stared, rather stupidly. By-and-by she said she must go now. + +"Henry shall take you home, dear." + +"Nay, I can go by myself." + +"It is raining a little, he will take you home in the cab." + +"Nay, I've got legs of my own," said the rustic. + +"Henry, dear," said the lady, quietly, "take her home in the cab, and +then come back to me." + +At the gate of Woodbine Villa, Jael said "it was not good-night this +time; it was good-by: she was going home for Patty's marriage." + +"But you will come back again?" said Henry. + +"Nay, father would be all alone. You'll not see me here again, unless +you were in sorrow or sickness." + +"Ah, that's like you, Jael. Good-by then, and God bless you wherever you +go." + +Jael summoned all her fortitude, and shook hands with him in silence. +They parted, and she fought down her tears, and he went gayly home to +his mother. She told him she had made several visits, and been cordially +received. "And this is how I paved the way for you. So, mind! I said my +brother Raby wished you to take his name, and be his heir; but you had +such a love of manufactures and things, you could not be persuaded to +sit down as a country gentleman. 'Indeed,' I said, his 'love of the +thing is so great that, in order to master it in all its branches, +nothing less would serve him than disguising himself, and going as a +workman. But now,' I said, 'he has had enough of that, so he has set +up a small factory, and will, no doubt, soon achieve a success.' Then +I told them about you and Dr. Amboyne. Your philanthropic views did +not interest them for a single moment; but I could see the poor dear +doctor's friendship was a letter of introduction. There will be no +difficulty, dear. There shall be none. What society Hillsborough boasts, +shall open its arms to you." + +"But I'm afraid I shall make mistakes." + +"Our first little parties shall be given in this house. Your free +and easy way will be excused in a host; the master of the house has a +latitude; and, besides, you and I will rehearse. By the way, please be +more careful about your nails; and you must always wear gloves when you +are not working; and every afternoon you will take a lesson in dancing +with me." + +"I say, mother, do you remember teaching me to dance a minuet, when I +was little?" + +"Perfectly. We took great pains; and, at last, you danced it like an +angel. And, shall I tell you, you carry yourself very gracefully?--well, +that is partly owing to the minuet. But a more learned professor will +now take you in hand. He will be here tomorrow at five o'clock." + +Mrs. Little's rooms being nearly square, she set up a round table, at +which eight could dine. But she began with five or six. + +Henry used to commit a solecism or two. Mrs. Little always noticed +them, and told him. He never wanted telling twice. He was a genial young +fellow, well read in the topics of the day, and had a natural wit; Mrs. +Little was one of those women who can fascinate when they choose; and +she chose now; her little parties rose to eight; and as, at her table, +everybody could speak without rudeness to everybody else, this +round table soon began to eclipse the long tables of Hillsborough in +attraction. + +She and Henry went out a good deal; and, at last, that which Mrs. +Little's good sense had told her must happen, sooner or later, took +place. They met. + +He was standing talking with one of the male guests, when the servant +announced Miss Carden; and, whilst his heart was beating high, she +glided into the room, and was received by the mistress of the house with +all that superabundant warmth which ladies put on and men don't: guess +why? + +When she turned round from this exuberant affection, she encountered +Henry's black eye full of love and delight, and his tongue tied, and his +swarthy cheek glowing red. She half started, and blushed in turn; and +with one glance drank in every article of dress he had on. Her eyes +beamed pleasure and admiration for a moment, then she made a little +courtesy, then she took a step toward him, and held out her hand a +little coyly. + +Their hands and eyes encountered; and, after that delightful collision, +they were both as demure as cats approaching cream. + +Before they could say a word of any consequence, a cruel servant +announced dinner, to the great satisfaction of every other soul in the +room. + +Of course they were parted at dinner-time; but they sat exactly opposite +each other, and Henry gazed at her so, instead of minding his business, +that she was troubled a little, and fain to look another way. For all +that, she found opportunity once or twice to exchange thoughts with him. +Indeed, in the course of the two hours, she gave him quite a lesson how +to speak with the eye--an art in which he was a mere child compared with +her. + +She conveyed to him that she saw his mother and recognized her; and also +she hoped to know her. + +But some of her telegrams puzzled him. + +When the gentlemen came up after dinner, she asked him if he would not +present her to his mother. + +"Oh, thank you!" said he, naively; and introduced them to each other. + +The ladies courtesied with grace, but a certain formality, for they both +felt the importance of the proceeding, and were a little on their guard. + +But they had too many safe, yet interesting topics, to be very long at a +loss. + +"I should have known you by your picture, Mrs. Little." + +"Ah, then I fear it must be faded since I saw it last." + +"I think not. But I hope you will soon judge for yourself." + +Mrs. Little shook her head. Then she said, graciously, "I hear it is to +you I am indebted that people can see I was once--what I am not now." + +Grace smiled, well pleased. "Ah," said she, "I wish you could have +seen that extraordinary scene, and heard dear Mr. Raby. Oh, madam, let +nothing make you believe you have no place in his great heart!" + +"Pray, pray, do not speak of that. This is no place. How could I bear +it?" and Mrs. Little began to tremble. + +Grace apologized. "How indiscreet I am; I blurt out every thing that is +in my heart." + +"And so do I," said Henry, coming to her aid. + +"Ah, YOU," said Grace, a little saucily. + +"We do not accept you for our pattern, you see. Pray excuse our bad +taste, Harry." + +"Oh, excuse ME, Mrs. Little. In some things I should indeed be proud if +I could imitate him; but in others--of course--you know!" + +"Yes, I know. My dear, there is your friend Mr. Applethwaite." + +"I see him," said Henry, carelessly. + +"Yes; but you don't see every thing," said Grace, slyly. + +"Not all at once, like you ladies. Bother my friend Applethwaite. Well, +if I must, I must. Here goes--from Paradise to Applethwaite." + +He went off, and both ladies smiled, and one blushed; and, to cover her +blush, said, "it is not every son that has the grace to appreciate his +mother so." + +Mrs. Little opened her eyes at first, and then made her nearest approach +to a laugh, which was a very broad smile, displaying all her white +teeth. "That is a turn I was very far from expecting," said she. + +The ice was now broken, and, when Henry returned, he found them +conversing so rapidly and so charmingly, that he could do little more +than listen. + +At last Mr. Carden came in from some other party, and carried his +daughter off, and the bright evening came too soon to a close; but +a great point had been gained: Mrs. Little and Grace Carden were +acquaintances now, and cordially disposed to be friends. + +The next time these lovers met, matters did not go quite so smoothly. It +was a large party, and Mr. Coventry was there. The lady of the house was +a friend of his, and assigned Miss Carden to him. He took her down to +dinner, and Henry sat a long way off but on the opposite side of the +table. + +He was once more doomed to look on at the assiduities of his rival, and +it spoiled his dinner for him. + +But he was beginning to learn that these things must be in society; and +his mother, on the other side of the table, shrugged her shoulders to +him, and conveyed by that and a look that it was a thing to make light +of. + +In the evening the rivals came into contact. + +Little, being now near her he loved, was in high spirits, and talked +freely and agreeably. He made quite a little circle round him; and as +Grace was one of the party, and cast bright and approving eyes on him, +it stimulated him still more, and he became quite brilliant. + +Then Coventry, who was smarting with jealousy, set himself to cool all +this down by a subtle cold sort of jocoseness, which, without being +downright rude, operates on conversation of the higher kind like frost +on expanding buds. It had its effect, and Grace chafed secretly, but +could not interfere. It was done very cleverly. Henry was bitterly +annoyed; but his mother, who saw his rising ire in his eye, carried him +off to see a flowering cactus in a hot-house that was accessible from +the drawing-room. When she had got him there, she soothed him and +lectured him. "You are not a match for that man in these petty acts +of annoyance, to which a true gentleman and a noble rival would hardly +descend, I think; at all events, a wise one would not; for, believe me, +Mr. Coventry will gain nothing by this." + +"Isn't driving us off the field something? Oh, for the good old days +when men settled these things in five minutes, like men; the girl to +one, and the grave to t'other." + +"Heaven forbid those savage days should ever return. We will defeat this +gentleman quietly, if you please." + +"How?" + +"Well, whenever he does this sort of thing, hide your anger; be polite +and dignified; but gradually drop the conversation, and manage to convey +to the rest that it is useless contending against a wet blanket. Why, +you foolish boy, do you think Grace Carden likes him any the better? +Whilst you and I talk, she is snubbing him finely. So you must stay here +with me, and give them time to quarrel. There, to lessen the penance, +we will talk about her. Last time we met her, she told me you were the +best-dressed gentleman in the room." + +"And did she like me any better for that?" + +"Don't you be ungracious, dear. She was proud of you. It gratified her +that you should look well in every way. Oh, if you think that we are +going to change our very natures for you, and make light of dress--why +did I send you to a London tailor? and why am I always at you about your +gloves?" + +"Mother, I am on thorns." + +"Well, we will go back. Stop; let me take a peep first." + +She took a peep, and reported, + +"The little circle is broken up. Mr. Coventry could not amuse them as +you did. Ah! she is in the sulks, and he is mortified. I know there's a +French proverb 'Les absens ont toujours tort.' But it is quite untrue; +judicious absence is a weapon, and I must show you how and when to use +it." + +"Mother, you are my best friend. What shall we do next?" + +"Why, go back to the room with me, and put on an imperturbable good +humor, and ignore him; only mind you do that politely, or you will give +him an advantage he is too wise to give you." + +Henry was about to obey these orders, but Miss Carden took the word out +of his mouth. + +"Well! the cactus?" + +Then, as it is not easy to reply to a question so vague, Henry +hesitated. + +"There, I thought so," said Grace. + +"What did you think?" inquired Mrs. Little. + +"Oh, people don't go into hot-houses to see a cactus; they go to flirt +or else gossip. I'll tell Mrs. White to set a short-hand writer in the +great aloe, next party she gives. Confess, Mrs. Little, you went to +criticise poor us, and there is no cactus at all." + +"Miss Carden, I'm affronted. You shall smart for this. Henry, take her +directly and show her the cactus, and clear your mother's character." + +Henry offered his arm directly, and they went gayly off. + +"Is she gone to flirt, or to gossip?" asked a young lady. + +"Our watches must tell us that," said Mrs. Little. "If they stay five +minutes--gossip." + +"And how many--flirtation?" + +"Ah, my dear, YOU know better than I do. What do you say? +Five-and-twenty?" + +The young ladies giggled. + +Then Mr. Coventry came out strong. He was mortified, he was jealous; he +saw a formidable enemy had entered the field, and had just outwitted and +out-maneuvered him. So what does he do but step up to her, and say to +her, with the most respectful grace, "May I be permitted to welcome you +back to this part of the world? I am afraid I can not exactly claim your +acquaintance; but I have often heard my father speak of you with the +highest admiration. My name is Coventry." + +"Mr. Coventry, of Bollinghope?" (He bowed.) "Yes; I had the pleasure of +knowing your mother in former days." + +"You, have deserted us too long." + +"I do not flatter myself I have been missed." + +"Is anybody ever missed, Mrs. Little? Believe me, few persons are +welcomed back so cordially as you are." + +"That is very flattering, Mr. Coventry. It is for my son's sake I have +returned to society." + +"No doubt; but you will remain there for your own. Society is your +place. You are at home in it, and were born to shine in it." + +"What makes you think that, pray?" and the widow's cheek flushed a +little. + +"Oh, Mrs. Little, I have seen something of the world. Count me amongst +your most respectful admirers. It is a sentiment I have a right to, +since I inherit it." + +"Well, Mr. Coventry, then I give you leave to admire me--if you can. +Ah, here they come. Two minutes! I am afraid it was neither gossip nor +flirtation, but only botany." + +Grace and Henry came back, looking very radiant. + +"What do you think?" said Grace, "I never was more surprised in my life, +there really is a cactus, and a night cereus into the bargain. Mrs. +Little, behold a penitent. I bring you my apology, and a jardenia." + +"Oh, how sweet! Never mind the apology. Quarrel with me often, and bring +me a jardenia. I'll always make it up on those terms." + +"Miss White," said Grace, pompously, "I shall require a few dozen +cuttings from your tree, please tell the gardener. Arrangements are +such, I shall have to grow jardenias on a scale hitherto unprecedented." + +There was a laugh, and, in the middle of it, a servant announced Miss +Carden's carriage. + +"What attentive servants you have, Miss White. I requested that man to +be on the watch, and, if I said a good thing, to announce my carriage +directly; and he did it pat. Now see what an effective exit that gives +me. Good-by, Miss White, good-by, Mrs. Little; may you all disappear as +neatly." + +Mr. Coventry stepped smartly forward, and offered her his arm with +courteous deference; she took it, and went down with him, but shot +over his shoulder a side-glance of reproach at Little, for not being so +prompt as his rival. + +"What spirits!" said a young lady. + +"Yes," said another; "but she was as dull as the grave last time I met +her." + +So ended that evening, with its little ups and downs. + + +Soon after this, Henry called on Miss Carden, and spent a heavenly hour +with her. He told her his plans for getting on in the world, and +she listened with a demure complacency, that seemed to imply she +acknowledged a personal interest in his success. She told him she had +always ADMIRED his independence in declining his uncle's offer, and now +she was beginning to APPROVE it: "It becomes a man," said she. + +From the future they went to the past, and she reminded him of the +snow-storm and the scene in the church; and, in speaking of it, her +eye deepened in color, her voice was low and soft, and she was all +tenderness. + +If love was not directly spoken, it was constantly implied, and, in +fact, that is how true love generally speaks. The eternal "Je vous aime" +of the French novelist is false to nature, let me tell you. + +"And, when I come back from London, I hope your dear mother will give me +opportunities of knowing her better." + +"She will be delighted; but, going to London!" + +"Oh, we spend six weeks in London every year; and this is our time. I +was always glad to go, before--London is very gay now you know--but I am +not glad now." + +"No more am I, I can assure you. I am very sorry." + +"Six weeks will soon pass." + +"Six weeks of pain is a good long time. You are the sunshine of my life. +And you are going to shine on others, and leave me dark and solitary." + +"But how do you know I shall shine on others? Perhaps I shall be duller +than you will, and think all the more of Hillsborough, for being in +London." + +The melting tone in which this was said, and the coy and tender +side-glance that accompanied it, were balm of Gilead to the lover. + +He took comfort, and asked her, cheerfully, if he might write to her. + +She hesitated a single moment, and then said "Yes." + +She added, however, after a pause, "But you can't; for you don't know my +address." + +"But you will tell me." + +"Never! never! Fifty-eight Clarges Street." + +"When do you go?" + +"The day after to-morrow: at twelve o'clock." + +"May I see you off at the train?" + +She hesitated. "If--you--like," said she, slowly: "but I think you had +better not." + +"Oh, let me see the last of you." + +"Use your own judgment, dear." + +The monosyllable slipped out, unintentionally: she was thinking of +something else. Yet, as soon as she had uttered it, she said "Oh!" and +blushed all, over. "I forgot I was not speaking to a lady," said she, +innocently: then, right archly, "please forgive me." + +He caught her hand, and kissed it devotedly. + +Then she quivered all over. "You mustn't," said she with the gentlest +possible tone of reproach. "Oh dear, I am so sorry I am going." And she +turned her sweet eyes on him, with tears in them. + +Then a visitor was announced, and they parted. + + +He was deep in love. He was also, by nature, rather obstinate. Although +she had said she thought it would be better for him not to see her off, +yet he would go to the station, and see the last of her. + + +He came straight from the station to his mother. She was upstairs. He +threw himself into a chair, and there she found him, looking ghastly. + +"Oh, mother! what shall I do?" + +"What is the matter, love?" + +"She is false; she is false. She has gone up to London with that +Coventry." + + +APPENDIX. + +EXTRACT FROM HENRY LITTLE'S REPORT. + + +The File-cutters. + +"This is the largest trade, containing about three thousand men, and +several hundred women and boys. Their diseases and deaths arise from +poisoning by lead. The file rests on a bed of lead during the process +of cutting, which might more correctly be called stamping; and, as +the stamping-chisel can only be guided to the required nicety by the +finger-nail, the lead is constantly handled and fingered, and enters the +system through the pores. + +"Besides this, fine dust of lead is set in motion by the blows that +drive the cutting-chisel, and the insidious poison settles on the hair +and the face, and is believed to go direct to the lungs, some of it. + +"The file-cutter never lives the span of life allotted to man. After +many small warnings his thumb weakens. He neglects that; and he gets +touches of paralysis in the thumb, the arm, and the nerves of the +stomach; can't digest; can't sweat; at last, can't work; goes to the +hospital: there they galvanize him, which does him no harm; and boil +him, which does him a deal of good. He comes back to work, resumes his +dirty habits, takes in fresh doses of lead, turns dirty white or sallow, +gets a blue line round his teeth, a dropped wrist, and to the hospital +again or on to the file-cutter's box; and so he goes miserably on and +off, till he drops into a premature grave, with as much lead in his body +as would lap a hundredweight of tea." + +THE REMEDIES. + +A. What the masters might do. + +"1. Provide every forge with two small fires, eighteen inches from the +ground. This would warm the lower limbs of the smiths. At present their +bodies suffer by uneven temperature; they perspire down to the waist, +and then freeze to the toe. + +"2. For the wet-grinders they might supply fires in every wheel, abolish +mud floors, and pave with a proper fall and drain. + +"To prevent the breaking of heavy grinding-stones, fit them with the +large strong circular steel plate--of which I subjoin a drawing--instead +of with wedges or insufficient plates. They might have an eye to life, +as well as capital, in buying heavy grindstones. I have traced the death +of one grinder to the master's avarice: he went to the quarry and bought +a stone for thirty-five shillings the quarry-master had set aside as +imperfect; its price would have been sixty shillings if it had been fit +to trust a man's life to. This master goes to church twice a Sunday, +and is much respected by his own sort: yet he committed a murder for +twenty-five shillings. Being Hillsborough, let us hope it was a murderer +he murdered. + +"For the dry-grinders they might all supply fans and boxes. Some do, and +the good effect is very remarkable. Moreover the present fans and boxes +could be much improved. + +"One trade--the steel-fork grinders--is considerably worse than the +rest; and although the fan does much for it, I'm told it must still +remain an unhealthy trade. If so, and Dr. Amboyne is right about Life, +Labor, and Capital, let the masters co-operate with the Legislature, and +extinguish the handicraft. + +"For the file-cutters, the masters might-- + +1st. Try a substitute for lead. It is all very well to say a file must +rest on lead to be cut. Who has ever employed brains on that question? +Who has tried iron, wood, and gutta-percha in layers? Who has ever tried +any thing, least of all the thing called Thought? + +"2d. If lead is the only bed--which I doubt, and the lead must be +bare--which I dispute, then the master ought to supply every gang +of file-cutters with hooks--taps, and basins and soap, in some place +adjoining their work-rooms. Lead is a subtle, but not a swift, poison; +and soap and water every two hours is an antidote. + +"3d. They ought to forbid the introduction of food into file-cutting +rooms. Workmen are a reckless set, and a dirty set; food has no business +in any place of theirs, where poison is going. + +"B. What the workmen might do. + +"1st. Demand from the masters these improvements I have suggested, and, +if the demand came through the secretaries of their Unions, the masters +would comply. + +"2d. They might drink less and wash their bodies with a small part +of the money so saved: the price of a gill of gin and a hot bath +are exactly the same; only the bath is health to a dry-grinder, or +tile-cutter; the gin is worse poison to him than to healthy men. + +"3d. The small wet-grinders, who have to buy their grindstones, might +buy sound ones, instead of making bargains at the quarry, which prove +double bad bargains when the stone breaks, since then a new stone is +required, and sometimes a new man, too. + +"4th. They might be more careful not to leave the grindstone in water. I +have traced three broken stones in one wheel to that abominable piece of +carelessness. + +"5th. They ought never to fix an undersized pulley wheel. Simmons killed +himself by that, and by grudging the few hours of labor required to hang +and race a sound stone. + +"6th. If files can only be cut on lead, the file-cutters might anoint the +lead over night with a hard-drying ointment, soluble in turps, and this +ointment might even be medicated with an antidote to the salt of lead. + +"7th. If files can only be cut on BARE lead, the men ought to cut their +hair close, and wear a light cap at work. They ought to have a canvas +suit in the adjoining place (see above); don it when they come, and doff +it when they go. They ought to leave off their insane habit of licking +the thumb and finger of the left hand--which is the leaded hand--with +their tongues. This beastly trick takes the poison direct to the +stomach. They might surely leave it to get there through the pores; it +is slow, but sure. I have also repeatedly seen a file-cutter eat his +dinner with his filthy poisoned fingers, and so send the poison home +by way of salt to a fool's bacon. Finally, they ought to wash off the +poison every two hours at the taps. + +"8th. Since they abuse the masters and justly, for their greediness, +they ought not to imitate their greediness by driving their poor little +children into unhealthy trades, and so destroying them body and soul. +This practice robs the children of education at the very seed-time of +life, and literally murders many of them; for their soft and porous +skins, and growing organs, take in all poisons and disorders quicker +than an adult. + +C. What the Legislature might do. + +"It might issue a commission to examine the Hillsborough trades, and, +when accurately informed, might put some practical restraints both on +the murder and the suicide that are going on at present. A few of the +suggestions I have thrown out might, I think, be made law. + +"For instance, the master who should set a dry-grinder to a trough +without a fan, or put his wet-grinders on a mud floor and no fire, or +his file-cutters in a room without taps and basins, or who should be +convicted of willfully buying a faulty grindstone, might be made subject +to a severe penalty; and the municipal authorities invested with rights +of inspection, and encouraged to report. + +"In restraint of the workmen, the Legislature ought to extend the +Factory Acts to Hillsborough trades, and so check the heartless avarice +of the parents. At present, no class of her Majesty's subjects cries +so loud, and so vainly, to her motherly bosom, and the humanity of +Parliament as these poor little children; their parents, the lowest +and most degraded set of brutes in England, teach them swearing and +indecency at home, and rob them of all decent education, and drive them +to their death, in order to squeeze a few shillings out of their young +lives; for what?--to waste in drink and debauchery. Count the public +houses in this town. + +"As to the fork-grinding trade, the Legislature might assist the masters +to extinguish it. It numbers only about one hundred and fifty persons, +all much poisoned, and little paid. The work could all be done by +fifteen machines and thirty hands, and, in my opinion, without the +expense of grindstones. The thirty men would get double wages: the odd +hundred and twenty would, of course, be driven into other trades, +after suffering much distress. And, on this account, I would call in +Parliament, because then there would be a temporary compensation offered +to the temporary sufferers by a far-sighted and, beneficent measure. +Besides, without Parliament, I am afraid the masters could not do it. +The fork-grinders would blow up the machines, and the men who worked +them, and their wives and their children, and their lodgers, and their +lodgers' visitors. + +"For all that, if your theory of Life, Labor, and Capital is true, all +incurably destructive handicrafts ought to give way to machinery, and +will, as Man advances." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + + +"What! eloped?" + +"Heaven forbid! Why, mother, I didn't say she was alone with him; her +father was of the party." + +"Then surely you are distressing yourself more than you need. She goes +to London with her papa, and Mr. Coventry happens to go up the same day; +that is really all." + +"Oh, but, mother, it was no accident. I watched his face, and there was +no surprise when he came up with his luggage and saw her." + +Mrs. Little pondered for a minute, and then said, "I dare say all +her friends knew she was going up to London to-day; and Mr. Coventry +determined to go up the same day. Why, he is courting her: my dear +Henry, you knew before to-day that you had a rival, and a determined +one. If you go and blame her for his acts, it will be apt to end in his +defeating you." + +"Will it? Then I won't blame her at all." + +"You had better not till you are quite sure: it is one way of losing a +high-spirited girl." + +"I tell you I won't. Mother!" + +"Well, dear?" + +"When I asked leave to come to the station and see her off, she seemed +put out." + +"Did she forbid you?" + +"No; but she did not like it somehow. Ah, she knew beforehand that +Coventry would be there." + +"Gently, gently! She might think it possible, and yet not know it. More +likely it was on account of her father. You have never told him that you +love his daughter?" + +"No." + +"And he is rather mercenary: perhaps that is too strong a word; but, in +short, a mere man of the world. Might it not be that Grace Carden would +wish him to learn your attachment either from your lips or from her own, +and not detect it in an impetuous young man's conduct on the platform of +a railway, at the tender hour of parting?" + +"Oh, how wise you are, and what an insight you have got! Your words are +balm. But, there--he is with her for ever so long, and I am here all +alone." + +"Not quite alone, love; your counselor is by your side, and may, +perhaps, show you how to turn this to your advantage. You write to +her every day, and then the postman will be a powerful rival to Mr. +Coventry, perhaps a more powerful one than Mr. Coventry to you." + +Acting on this advice, Henry wrote every day to Grace Carden. She was +not so constant in her replies; but she did write to him now and then, +and her letters breathed a gentle affection that allayed his jealousy, +and made this period of separation the happiest six weeks he had ever +known. As for Grace, about three o'clock she used to look out for the +postman, and be uneasy and restless if he was late, and, when his knock +came, her heart would bound, and she generally flew upstairs with +the prize, to devour it in secret. She fed her heart full with these +letters, and loved the writer better and better. For once the present +suitor lost ground, and the absent suitor gained it. Mrs. Little divined +as much from Grace's letters and messages to herself; and she said, with +a smile, "You see 'Les absents n'ont pas toujours tort.'" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + + +I must now deal briefly with a distinct vein of incidents, that occurred +between young Little's first becoming a master and the return of the +Cardens from London. + +Little, as a master, acted up to the philanthropic theories he had put +forth when a workman. + +The wet-grinders in his employ submitted to his improved plates, his +paved and drained floor, and cozy fires, without a murmur or a word of +thanks. By degrees they even found out they were more comfortable than +other persons in their condition, and congratulated themselves upon it. + +The dry-grinders consented, some of them, to profit by his improved +fans. Others would not take the trouble to put the fans in gear, and +would rather go on inhaling metal-dust and stone-grit. + +Henry reasoned, but in vain; remonstrated, but with little success. Then +he discharged a couple: they retired with mien of martyrs; and their +successors were admitted on a written agreement that left them no +option. The fan triumphed. + +The file-cutters were more troublesome; they clung to death and disease, +like limpets to established rocks; they would not try any other bed than +bare lead, and they would not wash at the taps Little had provided, and +they would smuggle in dinners and eat with poisoned hands. + +Little reasoned, and remonstrated, but with such very trifling +success, that, at last, he had to put down the iron heel; he gave the +file-cutters a printed card, with warning to leave on one side, and his +reasons on the other. + +In twenty-four hours he received a polite remonstrance from the +secretary of the File-Cutters' Union. + +He replied that the men could remain, if they would sign an agreement +to forego certain suicidal practices, and to pay fines in case of +disobedience; said fines to be deducted from their earnings. + +Then the secretary suggested a conference at the "Cutlers' Arms." Little +assented: and there was a hot argument. The father of all file-cutters +objected to tyranny and innovation: Little maintained that Innovation +was nearly always Improvement--the world being silly--and was manifestly +improvement in the case under consideration. He said also he was merely +doing what the Union itself ought to do: protecting the life of Union +men who were too childish and wrong-headed to protect it themselves. + +"We prefer a short life and a merry one, Mr. Little," said the father of +all file-cutters. + +"A life of disease is not a merry one: slow poisoning is not a pleasant +way of living, but a miserable way of dying. None but the healthy are +happy. Many a Croesus would give half his fortune for a poor man's +stomach; yet you want your cutlers to be sick men all their days, and +not gain a shilling by it. Man alive, I am not trying to lower their +wages." + +"Ay, but you are going the way to do it." + +"How do you make that out?" + +"The trade is full already; and, if you force the men to live to +threescore and ten, you will overcrowd it so, they will come to +starvation wages." + +Little was staggered at this thunderbolt of logic, and digested the +matter in silence for a moment. Then he remembered something that had +fallen from Dr. Amboyne; and he turned to Grotait. "What do you say to +that, sir? would you grind Death's scythe for him (at the list price) to +thin the labor market?" + +Grotait hesitated for once. In his heart he went with the file-cutter: +but his understanding encumbered him. + +"Starvation," said he, "is as miserable a death as poisoning. But +why make a large question out of a small one, with rushing into +generalities? I really think you might let Mr. Little settle this matter +with the individual workmen. He has got a little factory, and a little +crochet; he chooses to lengthen the lives of six file-cutters. He says +to them, 'My money is my own, and I'll give you so much of it, in return +for so much work plus so much washing and other novelties.' The question +is, does his pay cover the new labor of washing, etc., as well as the +old?" + +"Mr. Grotait, I pay the highest price that is going." + +"In that case, I think the Unions are not bound to recognize the +discussion. Mr. Little, I have some other reasons to lay before my good +friend here, and I hope to convince him. Now, there's a little party of +us going to dine to-morrow at 'Savage's Hotel,' up by the new reservoir; +give us the pleasure of your company, will you? and, by that time, +perhaps I may have smoothed this little matter for you." Little thanked +him, accepted the invitation, and left the pair of secretaries together. + +When he was gone, Grotait represented that public opinion would go with +Little on this question; and the outrages he had sustained would be all +ripped up by the Hillsborough Liberal, and the two topics combined in an +ugly way; and all for what?--to thwart a good-hearted young fellow in +a philanthropical crotchet, which, after all, did him honor, and would +never be imitated by any other master in Hillsborough. And so, for once, +this Machiavel sided with Henry, not from the purest motives, yet, mind +you, not without a certain mixture of right feeling and humanity. + +On the Sunday Henry dined with him and his party, at "Savage's Hotel," +and the said dinner rather surprised Henry; the meats were simple, but +of good quality, and the wines, which were all brought out by Grotait, +were excellent. That Old Saw, who retailed ale and spirits to his +customers, would serve nothing less to his guests than champagne and +burgundy. And, if the cheer was generous, the host was admirable; he +showed, at the head of his genial board, those qualities which, coupled +with his fanaticism, had made him the Doge of the Hillsborough trades. +He was primed on every subject that could interest his guests, and knew +something about nearly everything else. He kept the ball always going, +but did not monologuize, except when he was appealed to as a judge, and +then did it with a mellow grace that no man can learn without Nature's +aid. There is no society, however distinguished, in which Grotait would +not have been accepted as a polished and admirable converser. + +Add to this that he had an art, which was never quite common, but is now +becoming rare, of making his guests feel his friends--for the time, at +all events. + +Young Little sat amazed, and drank in his words with delight, and could +not realize that this genial philosopher was the person who had launched +a band of ruffians at him. Yet, in his secret heart, he could not doubt +it: and so he looked and listened with a marvelous mixture of feelings, +on which one could easily write pages of analysis, very curious, and +equally tedious. + +They dined at three; and, at five, they got up, as agreed beforehand, +and went to inspect the reservoir in course of construction. A more +compendious work of art was never projected: the contractors had taken +for their basis a mountain gorge, with a stream flowing through it +down toward Hillsborough; all they had to do was to throw an embankment +across the lower end of the gorge, and turn it to a mighty basin open to +receive the stream, and the drainage from four thousand acres of hill. +From this lake a sixty-foot wear was to deal out the water-supply to +the mill-owners below, and the surplus to the people of Hillsborough, +distant about eight miles on an easy decline. + +Now, as the reservoir must be full at starting, and would then be eighty +feet deep in the center, and a mile long, and a quarter of a mile broad, +on the average, an embankment of uncommon strength was required to +restrain so great a mass of water; and this was what the Hillsborough +worthies were curious about. They strolled out to the works, and then +tea was to come out after them, the weather being warm and soft. Close +to the works they found a foreman of engineers smoking his pipe, and +interrogated him. He showed them a rising wall, five hundred feet wide +at the base, and told them it was to be ninety feet high, narrowing, +gradually, to a summit twelve feet broad. As the whole embankment was to +be twelve hundred feet long at the top, this gave some idea of the +bulk of the materials to be used: those materials were clay, shale, +mill-stone, and sandstone of looser texture. The engineer knew Grotait, +and brought him a drawing of the mighty cone to be erected. "Why, it +will be a mountain!" said Little. + +"Not far from that, sir: and yet you'll never see half the work. Why, +we had an army of navvies on it last autumn, and laid a foundation sixty +feet deep and these first courses are all bonded in to the foundation, +and bonded together, as you see. We are down to solid rock, and no +water can get to undermine us. The puddle wall is sixteen feet wide at +starting, and diminishes to four feet at the top: so no water can creep +in through our jacket." + +"But what are these apertures?" inquired Grotait. + +"Oh, those are the waste-pipes. They pass through the embankment +obliquely, to the wear-dam: they can be opened, or shut, by valves, and +run off ten thousand cubic feet of water a minute." + +"But won't that prove a hole in your armor? Why, these pipes must be in +twenty joints, at least." + +"Say fifty-five; you'll be nearer the mark." + +"And suppose one or two of these fifty-five joints should leak? You'll +have an everlasting solvent in the heart of your pile, and you can't get +at them, you know, to mend them." + +"Of course not; but they are double as thick as ever were used before; +and have been severely tested before laying 'em down: besides, don't you +see each of them has got his great-coat on? eighteen inches of puddle +all the way." + +"Ah," said Grotait, "all the better. But it is astonishing what big +embankments will sometimes burst if a leaky pipe runs through them. I +don't think it is the water, altogether; the water seems to make +air inside them, and that proves as bad for them as wind in a man's +stomach." + +"Governor," said the engineer, "don't you let bees swarm in your bonnet. +Ousely reservoir will last as long as them hills there." + +"No, doubt, lad, since thou's had a hand in making it." + +The laugh this dry rejoinder caused was interrupted by the waitress +bringing out tea; and these Hillsborough worthies felt bound to chaff +her; but she, being Yorkshire too, gave them as good as they brought, +and a trifle to spare. + +Tea was followed by brandy-and-water and pipes: and these came out in +such rapid succession, that when Grotait drove Little and two others +home, his utterance was thick, and his speech sententious. + +Little found Bayne waiting for him, with the news that he had left Mr. +Cheetham. + +"How was that?" + +"Oh, fell between two stools. Tried to smooth matters between Cheetham +and the hands: but Cheetham, he wants a manager to side with him through +thick and thin; and the men want one to side with them. He has sacked +me, and the men are glad I'm going: and this comes of loving peace, when +the world hates it." + +"And I am glad of it, for now you are my foreman. I know what you are +worth, if those fools don't." + +"Are you in earnest, Little?" + +"Why not?" + +"I hear you have been dining with Grotait, and he always makes the +liquor fly. Wait till tomorrow. Talk it over with Mrs. Little here. I'm +afraid I'm not the right sort for a servant. Too fond of 'the balmy,' +and averse to the whole hog." (The poor fellow was quite discouraged.) + +"The very man I want to soothe me at odd times: they rile me so with +their suicidal folly. Now, look here, old fellow, if you don't come to +me, I'll give you a good hiding." + +"Oh! well, sooner than you should break the peace--. Mrs. Little, I'd +rather be with him at two guineas a week, than with any other master at +three." + +When he had got this honest fellow to look after his interests, young +Little gave more way than ever to his natural bent for invention, and he +was often locked up for twelve hours at a stretch, in a room he called +his studio. Indeed, such was his ardor, that he sometimes left home +after dinner, and came back to the works, and then the fitful fire of +his forge might be seen, and the blows of his hammer heard, long after +midnight. + +Dr. Amboyne encouraged him in this, and was, indeed, the only person +admitted to his said studio. There the Democritus of Hillsborough often +sat and smoked his cigar, and watched the progress toward perfection of +projected inventions great and small. + +One day the doctor called and asked Bayne whether Henry was in his +studio. Bayne said no; he thought he had seen him in the saw-grinders' +hull. "And that struck me; for it is not often his lordship condescends +to go there now." + +"Let us see what 'his lordship' is at." + +They approached stealthily, and, looking through a window, saw the +inventor standing with his arms folded, and his eyes bent on a grinder +at his work: the man was pressing down a six-feet saw on a grindstone +with all his might and Little was looking on, with a face compounded of +pity, contempt, and lofty contemplation. + +"That is the game now, sir," whispered Bayne: "always in the clouds, or +else above 'em. A penny for your thoughts, sir!" + +Henry started, as men do who are roused from deep contemplation; +however, he soon recovered himself, and, with a sort of rude wit of his +own, he held out his hand for the penny. + +Amboyne fumbled in his pocket, and gave him a stamp. + +Little seized it, and delivered himself as follows: "My thoughts, +gentlemen, were general and particular. I was making a reflection how +contented people are to go bungling on, doing a thing the wrong way, +when the right way is obvious: and my particular observation was--that +these long saws are ground in a way which offends the grammar of +mechanics. Here's a piece of steel six feet long, but not so wide as +the grindstone:--what can be plainer than that such a strip ought to be +ground lengthwise? then the whole saw would receive the grindstone in a +few seconds. Instead of that, on they go, year after year, grinding them +obliquely, and with a violent exertion that horrifies a fellow like me, +who goes in for economy of labor, and have done all my life. Look at +that fellow working. What a waste of muscle! Now, if you will come to my +studio, I think I can show you how long saws WILL be ground in the days +of civilization." + +His eye, which had been turned inward during his reverie, dullish and +somewhat fish-like, now sparkled like a hot coal, and he led the way +eagerly. + +"Pray humor him, sir," said Bayne, compassionately. + +They followed him up a horrid stair, and entered his studio and a +marvelous place it was: a forge on one side, a carpenter's bench +and turning-lathe on the other and the floor so crowded with models, +castings, and that profusion of new ideas in material form which +housewives call litter, that the artist had been obliged to cut three +little ramified paths, a foot wide, and so meander about the room, as +struggles a wasp over spilt glue. + +He gave the doctor the one chair, and wriggled down a path after pencil +and paper: he jumped with them, like a cat with a mouse, on to the +carpenter's bench, and was soon absorbed in drawing. + +When he had drawn a bit, he tore up the paper, and said, "Let me think." + +"The request is unusual," said Dr. Amboyne; "however, if you will let us +smoke, we will let you think." + +No reply from the inventor, whose eye was already turned inward, and +fish-like again. + +Dr. Amboyne and Bayne smoked peaceably awhile. But presently the +inventor uttered a kind of shout. + +"Eureka," said the doctor calmly, and emitted a curly cloud. + +Little dashed at the paper, and soon produced a drawing. It represented +two grindstones set apparently to grind each other, a large one below, a +small one above. + +"There--the large stone shall revolve rapidly, say from north to south; +the small one from south to north: that is the idea which has just +struck me, and completes the invention. It is to be worked, not by one +grinder, but two. A stands south, and passes the saw northward between +the two grindstones to B. The stones must be hung so as just to allow +the passage of the saw. B draws it out, and reverses it, and passes it +back to A. Those two journeys of the saw will grind the whole length of +it for a breath of two or three inches, and all in forty seconds. Now +do you see what I meant by the grammar of mechanics? It was the false +grammar of those duffers, grinding a long thing sideways instead of +lengthways, that struck my mind first. And now see what one gets to +at last if one starts from grammar. By this machine two men can easily +grind as many big saws as twenty men could grind on single stones: and +instead of all that heavy, coarse labor, and dirt, and splashing, my +two men shall do the work as quietly and as easily as two printers, one +feeding a machine with paper, and his mate drawing out the printed sheet +at the other end." + +"By Jove," said Dr. Amboyne, "I believe this is a great idea. What do +you say, Mr. Bayne?" + +"Well, sir, a servant mustn't always say his mind." + +"Servant be hanged!" said Little. "THAT for a friend who does not speak +his mind." + +"Well, then, gentlemen, it is the most simple and beautiful contrivance +I ever saw. And there's only one thing to be done with it." + +"Patent it?" + +"No; hide it; lock it up in your own breast, and try and forget it. Your +life won't be worth a week's purchase, if you set up that machine in +Hillsborough." + +"Hillsborough is not all the world. I can take it to some free +country--America or--Russia; there's a fortune in it. Stop; suppose +I was to patent it at home and abroad, and then work it in the United +States and the Canadas. That would force the invention upon this +country, by degrees." + +"Yes, and then, if you sell the English patent and insure the +purchaser's life, you may turn a few thousands, and keep a whole skin +yourself." + +Little assured Bayne he had no intention of running his head against the +Saw-grinders' Union. "We are very comfortable as it is, and I value my +life more than I used to do." + +"I think I know why," said Dr. Amboyne. "But, whatever you do, patent +your invention. Patent them all." + +Henry promised he would; but soon forgot his promise, and, having tasted +blood, so to speak, was soon deep in a far more intricate puzzle, viz., +how to grind large circular saws by machinery. This problem, and +his steel railway clip, which was to displace the present system of +fastening down the rails, absorbed him so, that he became abstracted in +the very streets, and did not see his friends when they passed. + +One day, when he was deeply engaged in his studio, Bayne tapped at the +door, and asked to speak to him. + +"Well, what is it?" said the inventor, rather peevishly. + +"Oh, nothing," said Bayne, with a bitter air of mock resignation. "Only +a cloud on the peaceful horizon; that is all. A letter from Mary Anne." + + +"SIR,--Four of your saws are behindhand with their contributions, and, +being deaf to remonstrance, I am obliged to apply to you, to use your +influence. + +"MARY ANNE." + + +"Well," said Henry, "Mary Anne is in the right. Confound their +dishonesty: they take the immense advantages the Saw-grinders' Union +gives them, yet they won't pay the weekly contribution, without which +the Union can't exist. Go and find out who they are, and blow them up." + +"What! me disturb the balmy?" + +"Bother the balmy! I can't be worried with such trifles. I'm inventing." + +"But, Mr. Little, would not the best way be for YOU just to stop it +quietly and peaceably out of their pay, and send it to Grotait?" + +Little, after a moment's reflection, said he had no legal right to do +that. Besides, it was not his business to work the Saw-grinders' Union +for Grotait. "Who is this Mary Anne?" + +"The saw-grinders, to be sure." + +"What, all of them? Poor Mary Anne!" + +He then inquired how he was to write back to her. + +"Oh, write under cover to Grotait. He is Mary Anne, to all intents and +purposes." + +"Well, write the jade a curt note, in both our names, and say we +disapprove the conduct of the defaulters, and will signify our +disapproval to them; but that is all we can do." + +This letter was written, and Bayne made it as oleaginous as language +permits; and there the matter rested apparently. + +But, as usual, after the polite came the phonetic. Next week Henry got a +letter thus worded:-- + + +"MISTER LITL,--If them grinders of yores dosent send their money i shall +com an' fech strings if the devil stans i' t' road. + +"MOONRAKER." + + +Mr. Little tossed this epistle contemptuously into the fire, and +invented on. + +Two days after that he came to the works, and found the saw grinders +standing in a group, with their hands in their pockets. + +"Well, lads, what's up?" + +"Mary Anne has been here." + +"And two pair of wheel-bands gone." + +"Well, men, you know whose fault it is." + +"Nay, but it is ---- hard my work should be stopped because another man +is in arrears with trade. What d'ye think to do, Governor? buy some more +bands?" + +"Certainly not. I won't pay for your fault. It is a just claim, you +know. Settle it among yourselves." + +With this he retired to his studio. + +When the men saw he did not care a button whether his grindstones +revolved or not, they soon brought the defaulters to book. Bayne was +sent upstairs, to beg Mr. Little to advance the trade contributions, and +step the amount from the defaulters' wages. + +This being settled, Little and Bayne went to the "Cutlers' Arms," and +Bayne addressed the barmaid thus, "Can we see Mary Anne?" + +"He is shaving." + +"Well, when she is shaved, we shall be in the parlor, tell her." + +In a moment or two Grotait bustled in, wiping his face with a towel as +he came, and welcomed his visitors cordially. "Fine weather, gentlemen." + +Bayne cut that short. "Mr. Grotait, we have lost our bands." + +"You surprise me." + +"And perhaps you can tell us how to get them back." + +"Experience teaches that they always come back when the men pay their +arrears." + +"Well, it is agreed to stop the sum due, out of wages." + +"A very proper course." + +"What is it we have got to pay?" + +"How can I tell you without book? Pray, Mr. Little, don't imagine that +I set these matters agate. All I do is to mediate afterward. I'll go and +look at the contribution-book." + +He went out, and soon returned, and told them it was one sovereign +contribution from each man, and five shillings each for Mary Anne. + +"What, for her services in rattening us?" said Little, dryly. + +"And her risk," suggested Grotait, in dulcet tones. + +Little paid the five pounds, and then asked Grotait for the bands. + +"Good heavens, Mr. Little, do you think I have got your bands?" + +"You must excuse Mr. Little, sir," said Bayne. "He is a stranger, and +doesn't know the comedy. Perhaps you will oblige us with a note where we +can find them." + +"Hum!" said Grotait, with the air of one suddenly illuminated. "What did +I hear somebody say about these bands? Hum! Give me an hour or two to +make inquiries." + +"Don't say an hour or two, sir, when the men have got to make up lost +time. We will give you a little grace; we will take a walk down street, +and perhaps it will come to your recollection." + +"Hum!" said Grotait; and as that was clearly all they were to get out of +him just then they left and took a turn. + +In half an hour they came back again, and sat down in the parlor. + +Grotait soon joined them. "I've been thinking," said he, "what a pity it +is we can't come to some friendly arrangement with intelligent masters, +like Mr. Little, to deduct the natty money every week from the men's +wages." + +"Excuse me," said Bayne, "we are not here for discussion. We want our +bands." + +"Do you doubt that you will get them, sir? Did ever I break faith with +master or man?" + +"No, no," said the pacific Bayne, alarmed at the sudden sternness of +his tone. "You are as square as a die--when you get it all your own way. +Why, Mr. Little, Cheetham's bands were taken one day, and, when he had +made the men pay their arrears, he was directed where to find the bands; +but, meantime, somebody out of trade had found them, and stolen them. +Down came bran-new bands to the wheel directly, and better than we had +lost. And my cousin Godby, that has a water-wheel, was rattened, by his +scythe-blades being flung in the dam. He squared with Mary Anne, and +then he got a letter to say where the blades were. But one was missing. +He complained to Mr. Grotait here, and Mr. Grotait put his hand in his +pocket directly, and paid the trade-price of the blade--three shillings, +I think it was." + +"Yes," said Grotait; "'but,' I remember I said at the time, 'you must +not construe this that I was any way connected with the rattening.' But +some are deaf to reason. Hallo!" + +"What is the matter, sir?" + +"Why, what is that in the fender? Your eyes are younger than mine." + +And Mr. Grotait put up his gold double eyeglass, and looked with marked +surprise and curiosity, at a note that lay in the fender. + +Mr. Bayne had been present at similar comedies, and was not polite +enough to indorse Mr. Grotait's surprise. He said, coolly, "It will be +the identical note we are waiting for." He stooped down and took it out +of the fender, and read it. + + +"'To Mr. LITTLE, or MR. BAYNE. + +"'GENTLEMEN,--In the bottom hull turn up the horsing, and in the +trough all the missing bands will be found. Apologizing for the little +interruption, it is satisfactory things are all arranged without damage, +and hope all will go agreeably when the rough edge is worn off. Trusting +these nocturnal visits will be no longer necessary, I remain, + +"'THE SHY MAIDEN.'" + + +As soon as he had obtained this information, Bayne bustled off; but Mary +Anne detained Henry Little, to moralize. + +Said she, "This rattening for trade contributions is the result of bad +and partial laws. If A contracts with B, and breaks his contract, B +has no need to ratten A: he can sue him. But if A, being a workman, +contracts with B and all the other letters, and breaks his contract, +B and all the other letters have no legal remedy. This bad and partial +law, occurring in a country that has tasted impartial laws, revolts +common sense and the consciences of men. Whenever this sort of thing +occurs in any civilized country, up starts that pioneer judge we call +Judge Lynch; in other words, private men combine, and make their +own laws, to cure the folly of legislatures. And, mark me, if these +irregular laws are unjust, they fail; if they are just, they +stand. Rattening could never have stood its ground so many years in +Hillsborough, if it had not been just, and necessary to the place, under +the partial and iniquitous laws of Great Britain." + +"And pray," inquired Little, "where is the justice of taking a master's +gear because his paid workman is in your debt?" + +"And where is the justice of taking a lodger's goods in execution for +the house-tenant's debt, which debt the said lodger is helping the said +tenant to pay? We must do the best we can. No master is rattened for +a workman's fault without several warnings. But the masters will never +co-operate with justice till their bands and screws go. That wakes them +up directly." + +"Well, Mr. Grotait, I never knew you worsted in an argument: and this +nut is too hard for my teeth, so I'm off to my work. Ratten me now and +then for your own people's fault, if you are QUITE sure justice and +public opinion demand it; but no more gunpowder, please." + +"Heaven forbid, Mr. Little. Gunpowder! I abhor it." + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + + +There came a delightful letter from Grace Carden, announcing her return +on a certain evening, and hoping to see Henry next morning. + +He called accordingly, and was received with outstretched hands and +sparkling eyes, and words that repaid him for her absence. + +After the first joyful burst, she inquired tenderly why he was so pale: +had he been ill? + +"No." + +"No trouble nor anxiety, dear?" + +"A little, at first, till your sweet letters made me happy. No; I did +not even know that I was pale. Overstudy, I suppose. Inventing is hard +work." + +"What are you inventing?" + +"All manner of things. Machine to forge large axes; another to grind +circular saws; a railway clip: but you don't care about such things." + +"I beg your pardon, sir. I care about whatever interests you." + +"Well, these inventions interest me very much. One way or other, they +are roads to fortune; and you know why I desire fortune." + +"Ah, that I do. But excuse me, you value independence more. Oh, I +respect you for it. Only don't make yourself pale, or you will make me +unhappy, and a foe to invention." + +On this Mr. Little made himself red instead of pale, and beamed with +happiness. + +They spent a delightful hour together, and, even when they parted, their +eyes lingered on each other. + +Soon after this the Cardens gave a dinner-party, and Grace asked if she +might invite Mrs. Little and Mr. Little. + +"What, is he presentable?" + +"More than that," said Grace, coloring. "They are both very superior to +most of our Hillsborough friends." + +"Well, but did you not tell me he had quarreled with Mr. Raby?" + +"No, not quarreled. Mr. Raby offered to make him his heir: but he +chooses to be independent, and make his own fortune, that's all." + +"Well, if you think our old friend would not take it amiss, invite them +by all means. I remember her a lovely woman." + +So the Littles were invited; and the young ladies admired Mr. Little on +the whole, but sneered at him a little for gazing on Miss Carden, as +if she was a divinity: the secret, which escaped the father, girls +of seventeen detected in a minute, and sat whispering over it in the +drawing-room. + +After this invitation, Henry and his mother called, and then Grace +called on Mrs. Little; and this was a great step for Henry, the more so +as the ladies really took to each other. + +The course of true love was beginning to run smooth, when it was +disturbed by Mr. Coventry. + +That gentleman's hopes had revived in London; Grace Carden had been +very kind and friendly to him, and always in such good spirits, that he +thought absence had cured her of Little, and his turn was come again. +The most experienced men sometimes mistake a woman in this way. The real +fact was that Grace, being happy herself, thanks to a daily letter from +the man she adored, had not the heart to be unkind to another, whose +only fault was loving her, and to whom she feared she had not behaved +very well. However, Mr. Coventry did mistake her. He was detained +in town by business, but he wrote Mr. Carden a charming letter, and +proposed formally for his daughter's hand. + +Mr. Carden had seen the proposal coming this year and more; so he was +not surprised; but he was gratified. The letter was put into his hand +while he was dressing for dinner. Of course he did not open the subject +before the servants: but, as soon as they had retired, he said, "Grace, +I want your attention on a matter of importance." + +Grace stared a little, but said faintly, "Yes, papa," and all manner of +vague maidenly misgivings crowded through her brain. + +"My child, you are my only one, and the joy of the house; and need I say +I shall feel your loss bitterly whenever your time comes to leave me?" + +"Then I never will leave you," cried Grace, and came and wreathed her +arms round his neck. + +He kissed her, and parting her hair, looked with parental fondness at +her white brow, and her deep clear eyes. + +"You shall never leave me, for the worse," said he: "but you are sure +to marry some day, and therefore it is my duty to look favorably on a +downright good match. Well, my dear, such a match offers itself. I have +a proposal for you." + +"I am sorry to hear it." + +"Wait till you hear who it is. It is Mr. Coventry, of Bollinghope." + +Grace sighed, and looked very uncomfortable. + +"Why, what is the matter? you always used to like him." + +"So I do now; but not for a husband." + +"I see no one to whom I could resign you so willingly. He is well born +and connected, has a good estate, not too far from your poor father." + +"Dear papa!" + +"He speaks pure English: now these Hillsborough manufacturers, with +their provincial twang, are hardly presentable in London society." + +"Dear papa, Mr. Coventry is an accomplished gentleman, who has done +me the highest honor he can. You must decline him very politely: but, +between ourselves, I am a little angry with him, because he knows I do +not love him; and I am afraid he has made this offer to YOU, thinking +you might be tempted to constrain my affections: but you won't do that, +my own papa, will you? you will not make your child unhappy, who loves +you?" + +"No, no. I will never let you make an imprudent match; but I won't force +you into a good one." + +"And you know I shall never marry without your consent, papa. But I'm +only nineteen, and I don't want to be driven away to Bollinghope." + +"And I'm sure I don't want to drive you away anywhere. Mine will be a +dull, miserable home without you. Only please tell me what to say to +him." + +"Oh, I leave that to you. I have often admired the way you soften your +refusals. 'Le seigneur Jupiter sait dorer la pillule'--there, that's +Moliere." + +"Well, I suppose I must say--" + +"Let me see what HE says first." + +She scanned the letter closely, to see whether there was any thing that +could point to Henry Little. But there was not a word to indicate he +feared a rival, though the letter was any thing but presumptuous. + +Then Grace coaxed her father, and told him she feared her inexperience +had made her indiscreet. She had liked Mr. Coventry's conversation, +and perhaps had, inadvertently, given him more encouragement than she +intended: would he be a good, kind papa, and get her out of the scrape, +as creditably as he could? She relied on his superior wisdom. So then he +kissed her, and said he would do his best. + +He wrote a kind, smooth letter, gilding and double-gilding the pill. He +said, amongst the rest, that there appeared to be no ground of refusal, +except a strong disinclination to enter the wedded state. "I believe +there is no one she likes as well as you; and, as for myself, I know no +gentleman to whom I would so gladly confide my daughter's happiness," +etc., etc. + +He handed this letter to his daughter to read, but she refused. "I have +implicit confidence in you," said she. + +Mr. Coventry acknowledged receipt of the letter, thanked Mr. Carden for +the kind and feeling way in which he had inflicted the wound, and said +that he had a verbal communication to make before he could quite drop +the matter; would be down in about a fort-night. + +Soon after this Grace dined with Mrs. Little: and, the week after that, +Henry contrived to meet her at a ball, and, after waiting patiently some +time, he waltzed with her. + +This waltz was another era in their love. It was an inspired whirl of +two lovers, whose feet hardly felt the ground, and whose hearts bounded +and thrilled, and their cheeks glowed, and their eyes shot fire; and +when Grace was obliged to stop, because the others stopped, her elastic +and tense frame turned supple and soft directly, and she still let her +eyes linger on his, and her hand nestle in his a moment: this, and a +faint sigh of pleasure and tenderness, revealed how sweet her partner +was to her. + +Need I say the first waltz was not the last? and that evening they were +more in love than ever, if possible. + +Mr. Coventry came down from London, and, late that evening, he and Mr. +Carden met at the Club. + +Mr. Carden found him in an arm-chair, looking careworn and unhappy, +and felt quite sorry for him. He hardly knew what to say to him; but +Coventry with his usual grace relieved him; he rose, and shook hands, +and even pressed Mr. Carden's hand, and held it. + +Mr. Carden was so touched, that he pressed his hand in return, and said, +"Courage! my poor fellow; the case is not desperate, you know." + +Mr. Coventry shook his head, and sat down. Mr. Carden sat down beside +him. + +"Why, Coventry, it is not as if there was another attachment." + +"There IS another attachment; at least I have too much reason to fear +so. But you shall judge for yourself. I have long paid my respectful +addresses to Miss Carden, and I may say without vanity that she used +to distinguish me beyond her other admirers; I was not the only one who +thought so; Mr. Raby has seen us together, and he asked me to meet her +at Raby Hall. There I became more particular in my attentions, and those +attentions, sir, were well received." + +"But were they UNDERSTOOD? that is the question." + +"Understood and received, upon my honor." + +"Then she will marry you, soon or late: for I'm sure there is no other +man. Grace was never deceitful." + +"All women are deceitful." + +"Oh, come!" + +"Let me explain: all women, worthy of the name, are cowards; and +cowardice drives them to deceit, even against their will. Pray bear me +to an end. On the fifth of last December, I took Miss Carden to the top +of Cairnhope hill. I showed her Bollinghope in the valley, and asked her +to be its mistress." + +"And what did she say? Yes, or no?" + +"She made certain faint objections, such as a sweet, modest girl like +her makes as a matter of course, and then she yielded." + +"What! consented to be your wife?" + +"Not in those very words; but she said she esteemed me, and she knew I +loved her; and, when I asked her whether I might speak to you, she said +'Yes.'" + +"But that was as good as accepting you." + +"I am glad you agree with me. You know, Mr. Carden, thousands have been +accepted in that very form. Well, sir, the next thing was we were caught +in that cursed snow-storm." + +"Yes, she has told me all about that." + +"Not all, I suspect. We got separated for a few minutes, and I found her +in an old ruined church, where a sort of blacksmith was working at his +forge. I found her, sir, I might say almost in the blacksmith's arms. I +thought little of that at first: any man has a right to succor any woman +in distress: but, sir, I discovered that Miss Carden and this man were +acquaintances: and, by degrees, I found, to my horror, that he had a +terrible power over her." + +"What do you mean, sir? Do you intend to affront us?" + +"No. And, if the truth gives you pain, pray remember it gives me +agony. However, I must tell you the man was not what he looked, a mere +blacksmith; he is a sort of Proteus, who can take all manner of shapes: +at the time I'm speaking of, he was a maker of carving tools. Well, sir, +you could hardly believe the effect of this accidental interview with +that man: the next day, when I renewed my addresses, Miss Carden evaded +me, and was as cold as she had been kind: she insisted on it she was not +engaged to me, and said she would not marry anybody for two years; and +this, I am sorry to say, was not her own idea, but this Little's; for I +overheard him ask her to wait two years for him." + +"Little! What, Raby's new nephew?" + +"That is the man." + +Mr. Carden was visibly discomposed by this communication. He did +not choose to tell Coventry how shocked he was at his own daughter's +conduct; but, after a considerable pause, he said, "If what you have +told me is the exact truth, I shall interpose parental authority, and +she shall keep her engagement with you, in spite of all the Littles in +the world." + +"Pray do not be harsh," said Coventry. + +"No, but I shall be firm." + +"Insanity in his family, for one thing," suggested Coventry, scarcely +above a whisper. + +"That is true; his father committed suicide. But really that +consideration is not needed. My daughter must keep her engagements, as I +keep mine." + +With this understanding the friends parted. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + + +Grace happened to have a headache next morning, and did not come down to +breakfast: but it was Saturday, and Mr. Carden always lunched at home on +that day. So did Grace, because it was one of Little's days. This gave +Mr. Carden the opportunity he wanted. When they were alone he fixed +his eyes on his daughter, and said quietly, "What is your opinion of--a +jilt?" + +"A heartless, abominable creature," replied Grace, as glibly as if she +was repeating some familiar catechism. + +"Would you like to be called one?" + +"Oh, papa!" + +"Is there nobody who has the right to apply the term to you?" + +"I hope not." (Red.) + +"You encouraged Mr. Coventry's addresses?" + +"I am afraid I did not discourage them, as I wish I had. It is so hard +to foresee every thing." + +"Pray do you remember the fifth day of last December?" + +"Can I ever forget it?" (Redder.) + +"Is it true that Mr. Coventry proposed for you, that day?" + +"Yes." + +"And you accepted him." + +"No; no. Then he has told you so? How ungenerous! All I did was, I +hesitated, and cried, and didn't say 'no,' downright--like a fool. Oh, +papa, have pity on me, and save me." And now she was pale. + +Mr. Carden's paternal heart was touched by this appeal, but he was +determined to know the whole truth. "You could love him, in time, I +suppose?" + +"Never." + +"Why?" + +"Because--" + +"Now tell me the truth. Have you another attachment?" + +"Yes, dear papa." (In a whisper and as red as fire.) + +"Somebody of whom you are not proud." + +"I AM proud of him. He is Mr. Coventry's superior. He is everybody's +superior in everything in the world." + +"No, Grace, you can hardly be proud of your attachment; if you had been, +you would not have hidden it all this time from your father." And Mr. +Carden sighed. + +Grace burst out crying, and flung herself on her knees and clung, +sobbing, to him. + +"There, there," said he, "I don't want to reproach you; but to advise +you." + +"Oh, papa! Take and kill me. Do: I want to die." + +"Foolish child! Be calm now; and let us talk sense." + +At this moment there was a peculiar ring at the door, a ring not +violent, but vigorous. + +Grace started and looked terrified: "Papa!" said she, "say what you +like to me, but do not affront HIM; for you might just as well take that +knife and stab your daughter to the heart. I love him so. Have pity on +me." + +The servant announced "Mr. Little!" + +Grace started up, and stood with her hand gripping the chair; her +cheek was pale, and her eyes glittered; she looked wild, and evidently +strained up to defend her lover. + +All this did not escape Mr. Carden. He said gently, "Show him into the +library." Then to Grace as soon as the servant had retired, "Come here, +my child." + +She knelt at his knees again, and turned her imploring, streaming eyes +up to him. + +"Is it really so serious as all this?" + +"Papa, words cannot tell you how I love. But if you affront him, and he +leaves me, you will see how I love him; you will know, by my grave-side, +how I love him." + +"Then I suppose I must swallow my disappointment how I can." + +"It shall be no disappointment; he will do you honor and me too." + +"But he can't make a settlement on his wife, and no man shall marry my +daughter till he can do that." + +"We can wait," said Grace, humbly. + +"Yes, wait--till you and your love are both worn out." + +"I shall wear out before my love." + +Mr. Carden looked at her, as she knelt before him, and his heart was +very much softened. "Will you listen to reason at all?" said he. + +"From you, I will, dear papa." She added, swiftly, "and then you will +listen to affection, will you not?" + +"Yes. Promise me there shall be no formal engagement, and I will let him +come now and then." + +This proposal, though not very pleasant, relieved Grace of such terrible +fears, that she consented eagerly. + +Mr. Carden then kissed her, and rose, to go to young Little; but, +before he had taken three steps, she caught him by the arm, and said, +imploringly, "Pray remember while you are speaking to him that you would +not have me to bestow on any man but for him; for he saved my life, and +Mr. Coventry's too. Mr. Coventry forgets that: but don't you: and, if +you wound him, you wound me; he carries my heart in his bosom." + +Mr. Carden promised he would do his duty as kindly as possible; and with +that Grace was obliged to content herself. + +When he opened the library door, young Little started up, his face +irradiated with joy. Mr. Carden smiled a little satirically, but he was +not altogether untouched by the eloquent love for his daughter, thus +showing itself in a very handsome and amiable face. He said, "It is not +the daughter this time, sir, it is only the father." + +Little colored up and looked very uneasy. + +"Mr. Little, I am told you pay your addresses to Miss Carden. Is that +so?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"You have never given me any intimation." + +Little colored still more. He replied, with some hesitation, "Why, sir, +you see I was brought up amongst workmen, and they court the girl first, +and make sure of her, before they trouble the parents; and, besides, it +was not ripe for your eye yet." + +"Why not?" + +"Because I'm no match for Miss Carden. But I hope to be, some day." + +"And she is to wait for you till then?" + +"She says she will." + +"Well, Mr. Little, this is a delicate matter; but you are a +straightforward man, I see, and it is the best way. Now I must do my +duty as a parent, and I am afraid I shall not be able to do that without +mortifying you a little; but believe me, it is not from any dislike or +disrespect to you, but only because it IS my duty." + +"I am much obliged to you, sir; and I'll bear more from you than I would +from any other man. You are her father, and I hope you'll be mine one +day." + +"Well, then, Mr. Little, I always thought my daughter would marry a +gentleman in this neighborhood, who has paid her great attention for +years, and is a very suitable match for her. You are the cause of +that match being broken off, and I am disappointed. But although I am +disappointed, I will not be harsh nor unreasonable to you. All I say is +this: my daughter shall never marry any man, nor engage herself to any +man, who cannot make a proper settlement on her. Can YOU make a proper +settlement on her?" + +"Not at present," said Little, with a sigh. + +"Then I put it to you, as a man, is it fair of you to pay her open +attentions, and compromise her? You must not think me very mercenary; I +am not the man to give my daughter to the highest bidder. But there is a +medium." + +"I understand you, sir, so far. But what am I to do? Am I to leave off +loving, and hoping, and working, and inventing? You might as well tell +me to leave off living." + +"No, my poor boy; I don't say that, neither. If it is really for her you +work, and invent, and struggle with fortune so nobly as I know you do, +persevere, and may God speed you. But, meantime, be generous, and don't +throw yourself in her way to compromise her." + +The young man was overpowered by the kindness and firmness of his +senior, who was also Grace's father. He said, in a choking voice, there +was no self-denial he would not submit to, if it was understood that he +might still love Grace, and might marry her as soon as he could make a +proper settlement on her. + +Then Mr. Carden, on his part, went further than he had intended, and +assented distinctly to all this, provided the delay was not unreasonable +in point of time. "I can't have her whole life wasted." + +"Give me two years: I'll win her or lose her in that time." He then +asked, piteously, if he might see her. + +"I am sorry to say No to that," was the reply; "but she has been already +very much agitated, and I should be glad to spare her further emotion. +You need not doubt her attachment to you, nor my esteem. You are a very +worthy, honest young man, and your conduct does much to reconcile me to +what I own is a disappointment." + +Having thus gilded the pill, Mr. Carden shook hands with Henry Little, +and conducted him politely to the street door. + +The young man went away slowly; for he was disconsolate at not seeing +Grace. + +But, when he got home, his stout Anglo-Saxon heart reacted, and he faced +the situation. + +He went to his mother and told her what had passed. She colored with +indignation, but said nothing. + +"Well, mother, of course it might be better; but then it might be worse. +It's my own fault now if I lose her. Cutlery won't do it in the time, +but Invention will: so, from this hour, I'm a practical inventor, and +nothing but death shall stop me." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + + +Grace Carden ran to the window, and saw Henry Little go away slowly, +and hanging his head. This visible dejection in her manly lover made +her heart rise to her throat, and she burst out sobbing and weeping with +alarming violence. + +Mr. Carden found her in this state, and set himself to soothe her. He +told her the understanding he had come to with Mr. Little, and begged +her to be as reasonable and as patient as her lover was. But the appeal +was not successful. "He came to see me," she cried, "and he has gone +away without seeing me. You have begun to break both our hearts, with +your reason and your prudence. One comfort, mine will break first; I +have not his fortitude. Oh, my poor Henry! He has gone away, hanging +his head, broken-hearted: that is what you have DONE for me. After that, +what are words? Air--air--and you can't feed hungry hearts with air." + +"Well, my child, I am sorry now I did not bring him in here. But I +really did it for the best. I wished to spare you further agitation." + +"Agitation!" And she opened her eyes with astonishment. "Why, it is +you who agitate me. He would have soothed me in a moment. One kind and +hopeful word from him, one tender glance of his dear eye, one pressure +of his dear hard hand, and I could have borne anything; but that drop of +comfort you denied us both. Oh, cruel! cruel!" + +"Calm yourself, Grace, and remember whom you are speaking to. It was an +error in judgment, perhaps--nothing more." + +"But, then, if you know nothing about love, and its soothing power, why +meddle with it at all?" + +"Grace," said Mr. Carden, sadly, but firmly, "we poor parents are all +prepared for this. After many years of love and tenderness bestowed +on our offspring, the day is sure to come when the young thing we have +reared with so much care and tenderness will meet a person of her own +age, a STRANGER; and, in a month or two, all our love, our care, our +anxiety, our hopes, will be nothing in the balance. This wound is in +store for us all. We foresee it; we receive it; we groan under it; we +forgive it. We go patiently on, and still give our ungrateful children +the benefit of our love and our experience. I have seen in my own family +that horrible mixture, Gentility and Poverty. In our class of life, +poverty is not only poverty, it is misery, and meanness as well. My +income dies with me. My daughter and her children shall not go back to +the misery and meanness out of which I have struggled. They shall be +secured against it by law, before she marries, or she shall marry under +her father's curse." + +Then Grace was frightened, and said she should never marry under her +father's curse; but (with a fresh burst of weeping) what need was there +to send Henry away without seeing her, and letting them comfort each +other under this sudden affliction? "Ah, I was too happy this morning," +said the poor girl. "I was singing before breakfast. Jael always told me +not to do that. Oh! oh! oh!" + +Mr. Carden kept silence; but his fortitude was sorely tried. + +That day Grace pleaded headache, and did not appear to dinner. Mr. +Carden dined alone, and missed her bright face sadly. He sent his love +to her, and went off to the club, not very happy. At the club he met Mr. +Coventry, and told him frankly what he had done. Mr. Coventry, to his +surprise, thanked him warmly. "She will be mine in two years," said he. +"Little will never be able to make a settlement on her." This remark set +Mr. Carden thinking. + +Grace watched the window day after day, but Henry never came nor passed. +She went a great deal more than usual into the town, in hopes of meeting +him by the purest accident. She longed to call on Mrs. Little, but +feminine instinct withheld her; she divined that Mrs. Little must be +deeply offended. + +She fretted for a sight of Henry, and for an explanation, in which +she might clear herself, and show her love, without being in the least +disobedient to her father. Now all this was too subtle to be written. So +she fretted and pined for a meeting. + +While she was in this condition, and losing color every day, who should +call one day--to reconnoiter, I suppose--but Mr. Coventry. + +Grace was lying on the sofa, languid and distraite, when he was +announced. She sat up directly, and her eye kindled. + +Mr. Coventry came in with his usual grace and cat-like step. "Ah, Miss +Carden!" + +Miss Carden rose majestically to her feet, made him a formal courtesy, +and swept out of the room, without deigning him a word. She went to the +study, and said, "Papa, here's a friend of yours--Mr. Coventry." + +"Dear me, I am very busy. I wish you would amuse him for a few minutes +till I have finished this letter." + +"Excuse me, papa; I cannot stay in the same room with Mr. Coventry." + +"Why not, pray?" + +"He is a dangerous man: he compromises one. He offered me an +engagement-ring, and I refused it; yet he made you believe we were +engaged. You have taken care I shall not be compromised with the man +I love; and shall I be compromised with the man I don't care for? No, +thank you." + +"Very well, Grace," said Mr. Carden, coldly. + +Shortly after this Mr. Carden requested Dr. Amboyne to call; he received +the doctor in his study, and told him that he was beginning to be uneasy +about Grace; she was losing her appetite, her color, and her spirits. +Should he send her to the seaside? + +"The seaside! I distrust conventional remedies. Let me see the patient." + +He entered the room and found her coloring a figure she had drawn: it +was a beautiful woman, with an anchor at her feet. The door was open, +and the doctor, entering softly, saw a tear fall on the work from a face +so pale and worn with pining, that he could hardly repress a start; he +did repress it though, for starts are unprofessional; he shook hands +with her in his usual way. "Sorry to hear you are indisposed, my dear +Miss Grace." He then examined her tongue, and felt her pulse; and then +he sat down, right before her, and fixed his eyes on her. "How long have +you been unwell?" + +"I am not unwell that I know of," said Grace, a little sullenly. + +"One reason I ask, I have another patient, who has been attacked +somewhat in the same way." + +Grace colored, and fixed a searching eye on the doctor. "Do I know the +lady?" + +"No. For it happens to be a male patient." + +"Perhaps it is going about." + +"Possibly; this is the age of competition. Still it is hard you can't +have a little malady of this kind all to yourself; don't you think so?" + +At this Grace laughed hysterically. + +"Come, none of that before me," said the doctor sternly. + +She stopped directly, frightened. The doctor smiled. + +Mr. Carden peeped in from his study. "When you have done with her, come +and prescribe for me. I am a little out of sorts too." With this, he +retired. "That means you are to go and tell him what is the matter with +me," said Grace bitterly. + +"Is his curiosity unjustifiable?" + +"Oh no. Poor papa!" Then she asked him dryly if he knew what was the +matter with her. + +"I think I do." + +"Then cure me." This with haughty incredulity. + +"I'll try; and a man can but do his best. I'll tell you one thing: if I +can't cure you, no doctor in the world can: see how modest I am. Now for +papa." + +She let him go to the very door: and then a meek little timid voice +said, in a scarce audible murmur, "Doctor!" + +Now when this meek murmur issued from a young lady who had, up to this +period of the interview, been rather cold and cutting, the sagacious +doctor smiled. "My dear?" said he, in a very gentle voice. + +"Doctor! about your other patient!" + +"Well?" + +"Is he as bad as I am? For indeed, my dear friend, I feel--my food has +no taste--life itself no savor. I used to go singing, now I sit sighing. +Is he as bad as I am?" + +"I'll tell you the truth; his malady is as strong as yours; but he +has the great advantage of being a man; and, again, of being a man of +brains. He is a worker, and an inventor; and now, instead of succumbing +tamely to his disorder, he is working double tides, and inventing with +all his might, in order to remove an obstacle between him and one he +loves with all his manly soul. A contest so noble and so perpetual +sustains and fortifies the mind. He is indomitable; only, at times, his +heart of steel will soften, and then he has fits of deep dejection +and depression, which I mourn to see; for his manly virtues, and his +likeness to one I loved deeply in my youth, have made him dear to me." + +During this Grace turned her head away, and, ere the doctor ended, her +tears were flowing freely; for to her, being a woman, this portrait of a +male struggle with sorrow was far more touching than any description +of feminine and unresisted grief could be: and, when the doctor said he +loved his patient, she stole her little hand into his in a way to melt +Old Nick, if he is a male. Ladies, forgive the unchivalrous doubt. + +"Doctor," said she, affecting all of a sudden a little air of small +sprightliness, very small, "now, do--you--think--it would do your +patient--the least good in the world--if you were to take him this?" + +She handed him her work, and then she blushed divinely. + +"Why, it is a figure of Hope." + +"Yes." + +"I think it might do him a great deal of good." + +"You could say I painted it for him." + +"So I will. That will do him no harm neither. Shall I say I found you +crying over it?" + +"Oh, no! no! That would make him cry too, perhaps." + +"Ah, I forgot that. Grace, you are an angel." + +"Ah, no. But you can tell him I am--if you think so. That will do him no +great harm--will it?" + +"Not an atom to him; but it will subject me to a pinch for stale news. +There, give me my patient's picture, and let me go." + +She kissed the little picture half-furtively, and gave it him, and let +him go; only, as he went out at the door, she murmured, "Come often." + +Now, when this artful doctor got outside the door, his face became grave +all of a sudden, for he had seen enough to give him a degree of anxiety +he had not betrayed to his interesting patient herself. + +"Well, doctor?" said Mr. Carden, affecting more cheerfulness than he +felt. "Nothing there beyond your skill, I suppose?" + +"Her health is declining rapidly. Pale, hollow-eyed, listless, +languid--not the same girl." + +"Is it bodily do you think, or only mental?" + +"Mental as to its cause; but bodily in the result. The two things +are connected in all of us, and very closely in Miss Carden. Her +organization is fine, and, therefore, subtle. She is tuned in a high +key. Her sensibility is great; and tough folk, like you and me, must +begin by putting ourselves in her place before we prescribe for her, +otherwise our harsh hands may crush a beautiful, but too tender, +flower." + +"Good heavens!" said Carden, beginning to be seriously alarmed, "do you +mean to say you think, if this goes on, she will be in any danger?" + +"Why, if it were to go on at the same rate, it would be very serious. +She must have lost a stone in weight already." + +"What, my child! my sweet Grace! Is it possible her life--" + +"And do you think your daughter is not mortal like other people? The +young girls that are carried past your door to the churchyard one after +another, had they no fathers?" + +At this blunt speech the father trembled from head to foot. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + + +"Doctor," said Mr. Carden, "you are an old friend, and a discreet man; I +will confide the truth to you." + +"You may save yourself the trouble. I have watched the whole progress +of this amour up to the moment when you gave them the advantage of your +paternal wisdom, and made them both miserable." + +"It is very unreasonable of them, to be miserable." + +"Oh, lovers parted could never yet make themselves happy with reason." + +"But why do you say parted? All I said was, 'No engagement till you can +make a settlement: and don't compromise her in the meanwhile.' I did not +mean to interdict occasional visits." + +"Then why not say so? That is so like people. You made your unfavorable +stipulation plain enough; but the little bit of comfort, you left that +in doubt. This comes of not putting yourself in his place. I have had +a talk with him about it, and he thinks he is not to show his face here +till he is rich enough to purchase your daughter of you." + +"But I tell you he has misunderstood me." + +"Then write to him and say so." + +"No, no; you take an opportunity to let him know he has really rather +overrated my severity, and that I trust to his honor, and do not object +to a visit--say once a week." + +"It is a commission I will undertake with pleasure." + +"And do you really think that will do her bodily health any good?" + +Before Doctor Amboyne could reply, the piano was suddenly touched in the +next room, and a sweet voice began to sing a cheerful melody. "Hush!" +said Doctor Amboyne. "Surely I know that tune. Yes, I have heard THE +OTHER whistle it." + +"She has not sung for ever so long," remarked Mr. Carden. + +"And I think I can tell you why she is singing now: look at this +picture of Hope; I just told her I had a male patient afflicted with her +complaint, and the quick-witted creature asked me directly if I thought +this picture would do him any good. I said yes, and I'd take it to him." + +"Come, doctor, that couldn't make her SING." + +"Why not? Heart can speak to heart, even by a flower or a picture. The +separation was complete; sending this symbol has broken it a little, +and so she is singing. This is a lesson for us ruder and less subtle +spirits. Now mind, thwarted love seldom kills a busy man; but it often +kills an idle woman, and your daughter is an idle woman. He is an iron +pot, she is a china vase. Please don't hit them too hard with the hammer +of paternal wisdom, or you will dent my iron pot, and break your china +vase to atoms." + +Having administered this warning, Dr. Amboyne went straight from +Woodbine Villa to Little's factory; but Little was still in London; he +had gone there to take out patents. Bayne promised to send the doctor a +line immediately on his return. Nevertheless, a fortnight elapsed, +and then Dr. Amboyne received a short, mysterious line to tell him Mr. +Little had come home, and would be all the better of a visit. On receipt +of this the doctor went at once to the works, and found young Little +lying on his carpenter's bench in a sort of gloomy apathy. "Hallo!" said +the doctor, in his cheerful way, "why what's the matter now?" + +"I'm fairly crushed," groaned the inventor. + +"And what has crushed you?" + +"The roundabout swindle." + +"There, now, he invents words as well as things. Come, tell me all about +the roundabout swindle." + +"No, no; I haven't the heart left to go through it all again, even in +words. One would think an inventor was the enemy of the human race. Yes, +I will tell you; the sight of you has revived me a bit; it always does. +Well, then, you know I am driven to invention now; it is my only chance; +and, ever since Mr. Carden spoke to me, I have given my whole soul to +the best way of saw-grinding by machinery. The circular saws beat me for +a while, but I mastered them; see, there's the model. I'm going to burn +it this very afternoon. Well, a month ago, I took the other model--the +long-saw grinder--up to London, to patent the invention, as you +advised me. I thought I'd just have to exhibit the model, and lodge the +description in some Government office, and pay a fee, of course, to +some swell, and so be quit of it. Lord bless you--first I had to lay the +specification before the Court of Chancery, and write a petition to the +Queen, and pay, and, what is worse, wait. When I had paid and waited, +I got my petition signed, not by the Queen, but by some go-between, and +then I must take it to the Attorney-general. He made me pay--and wait. +When I had waited ever so long, I was sent back to where I had come +from--the Home Office. But even then I could not get to the Queen. +Another of her go-betweens nailed me, and made me pay, and wait: these +locusts steal your time as well as your money. At last, a copy of a copy +of a copy of my patent got to the Queen, and she signed it like a lady +at once, and I got it back. Then I thought I was all right. Not a bit +of it: the Queen's signature wasn't good till another of her go-betweens +had signed it. I think it was the Home Secretary this time. This +go-between bled me again, and sent me with my hard-earned signatures +to the Patent Office. There they drafted, and copied, and docketed, and +robbed me of more time and money. And, when all was done, I had to take +the document back to one of the old go-betweens that I hoped I had +worn out, the Attorney-general. He signed, and bled me out of some more +money. From him to the other go-betweens at Whitehall. From them to +the Stamp Office, if I remember right, and oh Lord, didn't I fall among +leeches there? They drafted, they copied, they engrossed, they juggled +me out of time and money without end. The first leech was called +the Lord Keeper of the Seal; the second leech was called the Lord +Chancellor; it was some go-between that acted in his name; the third +leech was the Clerk of the Patents. They demanded more copies, and then +employed more go-betweens to charge ten times the value of a copy, and +nailed the balance, no doubt. 'Stand and deliver thirty pounds for +this stamp.' 'Stand and deliver to me that call myself the Chancellor's +purse-bearer--and there's no such creature--two guineas.' 'Stand and +deliver seven, thirteen, to the clerk of the Hanaper'--and there's +no such thing as a Hanaper. 'Stand and deliver three, five,' to a +go-between that calls himself the Lord Chancellor again, and isn't. +'Stand and deliver six, naught, to a go-between that acts for the +deputy, that ought to put a bit of sealing-wax on the patent, but hasn't +the brains to do it himself, so you must pay ME a fancy price for doing +it, and then I won't do it; it will be done by a clerk at twenty-five +shillings a week.' And, all this time, mind you, no disposition to +soften all this official peculation by civility; no misgiving that the +next wave of civilization may sweep nil these go-betweens and leeches +out of the path of progress; no, the deputy-vice-go-betweens all +scowled, as well as swindled: they broke my heart so, often I sat down +in their antechambers and the scalding tears ran down my cheeks, at +being pillaged of my time as well as my money, and treated like a +criminal--for what? For being, in my small way, a national benefactor." + +"Ay," said the doctor, "you had committed the crime of brains; and the +worse crime of declining to be starved in return for them. I don't rebel +against the fees so much: their only fault is that they are too heavy, +since the monopoly they profess to secure is short-lived, and yet not +very secure; the Lord Chancellor, as a judge, has often to upset the +patent which he has sold in another character. But that system of +go-betweens, and deputy-go-betweens, and deputy-lieutenant-go-betweens +and nobody doing his own business in matters of State, it really is a +national curse, and a great blot upon the national intellect. It is a +disease; so let us name it. We doctors are great at naming diseases; +greater than at curing them. + + "'Let us call it VICARIA, + This English malaria.' + +"Of this Vicaria, the loss of time and money you have suffered is only +one of the fruits, I think." + +"All I know is, they made my life hell for more than a month; and if +I have ever the misfortune to invent any thing more, I'll keep it to +myself. I'll hide it, like any other crime. But no; I never will invent +another thing: never, never." + +"Stuff! Methinks I hear a duck abjure natation. You can't help +inventing." + +"I will help it. What, do you think I'll be such an ass as to have +Brains in a country where Brains are a crime? Doctor, I'm in despair." + +"Then it is time to cast your eyes over this little picture." + +The inventor turned the little picture listlessly about. "It is a woman, +with an anchor. It's a figure of Hope." + +"Beautifully painted, is it not?" + +"The tints are well laid on: but, if you'll excuse me, it is rather +flat." He laid the picture down, and turned away from it. "Ah, Hope, my +lass, you've come to the wrong shop." + +"Not she. She was painted expressly for you, and by a very beautiful +girl." + +"Oh, doctor, not by--" + +"Yes; she sends it you." + +"Ah!" And he caught Hope up, and began to devour her with kisses, and +his eyes sparkled finely. + +"I have some good news, too, for you. Mr. Carden tells me he never +intended to separate you entirely from his daughter. If you can be +moderate, discreet, old before your time, etc., and come only about +once a week, and not compromise her publicly, you will be as welcome as +ever." + +"That IS good news, indeed. I'll go there this very day; and I'll patent +the circular saw." + +"There's a non-sequitur for you!" + +"Nothing of the kind, sir. Why, even the Queen's go-betweens will never +daunt me, now I can go and drink love and courage direct from HER eyes; +and nothing can chill nor discourage me now. I'll light my forge again +and go to work, and make a few sets of carving-tools, and that will pay +the go-betweens for patenting my circular-saw grinder. But first I'll +put on my coat and go to heaven." + +"Had you not better postpone that till the end of your brilliant career +as an inventor and a lover?" + +"No; I thirst for heaven, and I'll drink it." So he made his toilet, +thanked and blessed the good doctor, and off to Woodbine Villa. + +Grace Carden saw him coming, and opened the door to him herself, red as +scarlet, and her eyes swimming. She scarcely made an effort to contain +herself by this time, and when she got him into the drawing-room all +to herself, she cried, for joy and tenderness, on his shoulder; and, it +cost him a gulp or two, I can tell you: and they sat hand in hand, +and were never tired of gazing at each other; and the hours flew by +unheeded. All their trouble was as though it had never been. Love +brightened the present, the future, and even the past. He did not tell +Grace one word of what he had suffered from Vicaria--I thank thee, +doctor, for teaching me that word--it had lost all interest to him. Love +and happiness had annihilated its true character--like the afternoon sun +gilding a far-off pig-sty. He did mention the subject, however, but it +was in these terms: "And, dearest, I'm hard at work inventing, and I +patent all my inventions; so I hope to satisfy your father before two +years." + +And Grace said, "Yes; but don't overwork your poor brain and worry +yourself. I am yours in heart, and that is something, I hope. I know it +is to me; I wouldn't change with any wife in Christendom." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + + +At the end of two months the situation of affairs was as follows: + +Grace Carden received a visit every week from Henry, and met him now and +then at other houses: she recovered her health and spirits, and, +being of a patient sex, was quite contented, and even happy. Frederick +Coventry visited her often, and she received his visits quite +graciously, now that the man she loved was no longer driven from her. +She even pitied him, and was kind to him and had misgivings that she +had used him ill. This feeling he fostered, by a tender, dejected, and +inoffensive manner. Boiling with rage inside, this consummate actor +had the art to feign resignation; whereas, in reality, he was secretly +watching for an opportunity to injure his rival. But no such opportunity +came. + +Little, in humble imitation of his sovereign, had employed a go-between +to employ a go-between, to deal with the State go-betweens, and +deputy-go-betweens, that hampered the purchase--the word "grant" is out +of place, bleeding is no boon--of a patent from the crown, and by +this means he had done, in sixty days, what a true inventor will do in +twenty-four hours, whenever the various metallic ages shall be succeeded +by the age of reason; he had secured his two saw-grinding inventions, by +patent, in Great Britain, the Canadas, and the United States of America. +He had another invention perfected; it was for forging axes and +hatchets by machinery: but this he did not patent: he hoped to find his +remuneration in the prior use of it for a few months. Mere priority is +sometimes a great advantage in this class of invention, and there are no +fees to pay for it nor deputy-lieutenant-vice-go-betweens' antechambers +for genius to cool its heels and heart in. + +But one thing soon became evident. He could not work his inventions +without a much larger capital. + +Dr. Amboyne and he put their heads together over this difficulty, and +the doctor advised him in a more erudite style than usual. + +"True invention," said he, "whether literary or mechanical, is the +highest and hardest effort of the mind. It is an operation so absorbing +that it often weakens those pettier talents which make what we call the +clever man. Therefore the inventor should ally himself with some person +of talent and energy, but no invention. Thus supported, he can have his +fits of abstraction, his headaches, his heartaches, his exultations, his +depressions, and no harm done; his dogged associate will plow steadily +on all the time. So, after all, your requiring capital is no great +misfortune; you must look out for a working capitalist. No sleeping +partner will serve your turn; what you want is a good rich, vulgar, +energetic man, the pachydermatouser the better." + +Henry acted on this advice, and went to London in search of a moneyed +partner. Oh, then it was he learned-- + + +"The hell it is in suing long to bide." + + +He found capitalists particularly averse to speculate in a patent. It +took him many days to find out what moneyed men were open to that sort +of thing at all; and, when he got to them, they were cold. + +They had all been recently bitten by harebrained inventors. + +Then he represented that it was a matter of judgment, and offered +to prove by figures that his saw-grinding machines must return three +hundred per cent. These he applied to would not take the trouble to +study his figures. In another words, he came at the wrong time. And the +wrong time is as bad as the wrong thing, or worse. + +Take a note of that, please: and then forget it. + +At last he gave up London in despair, and started for Birmingham. + +The train stepped at Tring, and, as it was going on again, a man +ran toward the third-class carriage Little was seated in. One of the +servants of the company tried to stop him, very properly. He struggled +with that official, and eventually shook him off. Meantime the train was +accelerating its pace. In spite of that, this personage made a run and +a bound, and, half leaping, half scrambling, got his head and shoulders +over the door, and there oscillated, till Little grabbed him with +both hands, and drew him powerfully in, and admonished him. "That is a +foolhardy trick, sir, begging your pardon." + +"Young man," panted the invader, "do you know who you're a-speaking to?" + +"No. The Emperor of China?" + +"No such trash; it's Ben Bolt, a man that's bad to beat." + +"Well, you'll get beat some day, if you go jumping in and out of trains +in motion." + +"A many have been killed that way," suggested a huge woman in the corner +with the meekest and most timid voice imaginable. + +Mr. Bolt eyed the speaker with a humorous voice. "Well, if I'm ever +killed that way, I'll send you a letter by the post. Got a sweetheart, +ma'am?" + +"I've got a good husband, sir," said she, with mild dignity, and pointed +to a thin, sour personage opposite, with his nose in a newspaper. Deep +in some public question, he ignored this little private inquiry. + +"That's unlucky," said Bolt, "for here am I, just landed from Victoria, +and money in both pockets. And where do you think I am going now? to +Chester, to see my father and mother, and show them I was right after +all. They wanted me to go to school; I wouldn't. Leathered me; I howled, +but wouldn't spell; I was always bad to beat. Next thing was, they +wanted to make a tanner of me. I wouldn't. 'Give me fifty pounds and +let me try the world,' says I. THEY wouldn't. We quarreled. My uncle +interfered one day, and gave me fifty pounds. 'Go to the devil,' said +he, 'if you like; so as you don't come back.' I went to Sydney, +and doubled my fifty; got a sheep-run, and turned my hundred into a +thousand. Then they found gold, and that brought up a dozen ways of +making money, all of 'em better than digging. Why, ma'am, I made ten +thousand pounds by selling the beastliest lemonade you ever tasted for +gold-dust at the mines. That was a good swop, wasn't it? So now I'm come +home to see if I can stand the Old Country and its ways; and I'm going +to see the old folk. I haven't heard a word about them this twenty +years." + +"Oh, dear, sir," said the meek woman, "twenty years is a long time. I +hope you won't find them dead an' buried." + +"Don't say that; don't say that!" And the tough, rough man showed a +grain of feeling. He soon recovered himself, though, and said more +obstreperously than ever, "If they are, I disown 'em. None of your +faint-hearted people for me. I despise a chap that gives in before +eighty. I'm Ben Bolt, that is bad to beat. Death himself isn't going to +bowl me out till I've had my innings." + +"La, sir; pray don't talk so, or you'll anger them above, and, ten to +one, upset the train." + +"That's one for me, and two for yourself, ma'am." + +"Yes, sir," said the mild soul. "I have got my husband with me, and you +are only a bachelor, sir." + +"How d'ye know that?" + +"I think you'd ha' been softened down a bit, if you'd ever had a good +wife." + +"Oh, it is because I speak loud. That is with bawling to my shepherds +half a mile off. Why, if I'm loud, I'm civil. Now, young man, what is +YOUR trouble?" + +Henry started from his reverie, and looked astonished. + +"Out with it," shouted Mr. Bolt; "don't sit grizzling there. What with +this lady's husband, dead and buried in that there newspaper, and you, +that sets brooding like a hen over one egg, it's a Quaker's meeting, or +nearly. If you've been and murdered anybody, tell us all about it. Once +off your mind, you'll be more sociable." + +"A man's thoughts are his own, Mr. Bolt. I'm not so fond of talking +about myself as you seem to be." + +"Oh, I can talk, or I can listen. But you won't do neither. Pretty +company YOU are, a-hatching of your egg." + +"Well, sir," said the meek woman to Henry, "the rough gentleman he is +right. If you are in trouble, the best way is to let your tongue put it +off your heart." + +"I'm sure you are very kind," said Henry, "but really my trouble is one +of those out-of-the-way things that do not interest people. However, the +long and the short is, I'm an inventor. I have invented several things, +and kept them dark, and they have paid me. I live at Hillsborough. +But now I have found a way of grinding long saws and circular saws by +machinery, at a saving of five hundred per cent labor. That saving of +labor represents an enormous profit--a large fortune; so I have +patented the invention at my own expense. But I can't work it without a +capitalist. Well, I have ransacked London, and all the moneyed men shy +me. The fools will go into railways, and bubbles, and a lot of things +that are blind chance, but they won't even study my drawings and +figures, and I made it clear enough too." + +"I'm not of their mind then," said Bolt. "My rule is never to let +another man work my money. No railway shares nor gold mines for Ben +Bolt. My money goes with me, and I goes with my money." + +"Then you are a man of sense; and I only wish you had money enough to go +into this with me." + +"How do you know how much money I've got? You show me how to turn twenty +thousand into forty thousand, or forty thousand into eighty thousand, +and I'll soon find the money." + +"Oh, I could show you how to turn fifteen thousand into fifty thousand." +He then unlocked his black bag, and showed Bolt some drawings that +represented the grinders by hand at work on long saws and circular +saws. "This," said he, "is the present system." He then pointed out its +defects. "And this," said he, "is what I propose to substitute." Then +he showed him drawings of his machines at work. "And these figures +represent the saving in labor. Now, in this branch of cutlery, the labor +is the manufacturer's main expense. Make ten men grind what fifty used, +you put forty workmen's wages in your pocket." + +"That's tall talk." + +"Not an inch taller than the truth." + +Mr. Bolt studied the drawings, and, from obstreperous, became quite +quiet and absorbed. Presently he asked Henry to change places with him; +and, on this being complied with, he asked the meek woman to read him +Henry's figures, slowly. She stared, but complied. Mr. Bolt pondered +the figures, and examined the drawings again. He then put a number +of questions to Henry, some of them very shrewd; and, at last, got so +interested in the affair that he would talk of nothing else. + +As the train slackened for Birmingham, he said to Henry, "I'm no great +scholar; I like to see things in the body. On we go to Hillsborough." + +"But I want to talk to a capitalist or two at Birmingham." + +"That is not fair; I've got the refusal." + +"The deuce you have!" + +"Yes, I've gone into it with you; and the others wouldn't listen. Said +so yourself." + +"Well, but, Mr. Bolt, are you really in earnest? Surely this is quite +out of your line?" + +"How can it be out of my line if it pays? I've bought and sold sheep, +and wool, and land, and water, and houses, and tents, and old clothes, +and coffee, and tobacco, and cabs. And swopped--my eye, how I have +swopped! I've swopped a housemaid under articles for a pew in the +church, and a milch cow for a whale that wasn't even killed yet; I paid +for the chance. I'm at all in the ring, and devilish bad to beat. Here +goes--high, low, Jack, and the game." + +"Did you ever deal in small beer?" asked Henry, satirically. + +"No," said Bolt, innocently. "But I would in a minute if I saw clear to +the nimble shilling. Well, will you come on to Hillsborough and settle +this? I've got the refusal for twenty-four hours, I consider." + +"Oh, if you think so, I will go on to Hillsborough. But you said +you were going to see your parents, after twenty years' absence and +silence." + +"So I am; but they can keep; what signifies a day or two more after +twenty years?" He added, rather severely, as one whose superior age +entitled him to play the monitor, "Young man, I never make a toil of a +pleasure." + +"No more do I. But how does that apply to visiting your parents?" + +"If I was to neglect business to gratify my feelings, I should be +grizzling all the time; and wouldn't that be making a toil of a +pleasure?" + +Henry could only grin in reply to this beautiful piece of reasoning; and +that same afternoon the pair were in Hillsborough, and Mr. Bolt, under +Henry's guidance, inspected the grinding of heavy saws, both long and +circular. He noted, at Henry's request, the heavy, dirty labor. He +then mounted to the studio, and there Henry lectured on his models, and +showed them working. Bolt took it all in, his eye flashed, and then he +put on, for the first time, the coldness of the practiced dealer. "It +would take a good deal of money to work this properly," said he, shaking +his head. + +"It has taken a good deal of brains to invent it." + +"No doubt, no doubt. Well, if you want me to join you, it must be on +suitable terms. Money is tight." + +"Well, propose your own terms." + +"That's not my way. I'll think it over before I put my hand to paper. +Give me till to-morrow." + +"Certainly." + +On this Mr. Bolt went off as if he had been shot. + +He returned next day, and laid before Henry an agreement drawn by +the sharpest attorney in Hillsborough, and written in a clerk's hand. +"There," said he, briskly, "you sign that, and I'll make my mark, and at +it we go." + +"Stop a bit," said Henry. "You've been to a lawyer, have you? Then I +must go to one, too; fair play's a jewel." + +Bolt looked disappointed; but the next moment he affected cheerfulness, +and said, "That is fair. Take it to your lawyer directly." + +"I will," said Henry; but, instead of a lawyer, he took it to his friend +Dr. Amboyne, told him all about Ben Bolt, and begged his advice on the +agreement. "Ought he to have the lion's share like this?" + +"The moneyed man generally takes that. No commodity is sold so far +beyond its value as money. Let me read it." + +The purport of the agreement was as follows:--New premises to be built +by Bolt, a portion of the building to be constructed so that it could be +easily watched night and day, and in that part the patent saw-grinding +machines to be worked. The expenses of this building to be paid off by +degrees out of the gross receipts, and meanwhile Mr. Bolt was to receive +five per cent. interest for his outlay and two-thirds of the profits, +if any. Mr. Little to dispose of his present factory, and confine his +patents to the joint operation. + +Dr. Amboyne, on mature consideration, advised Little to submit to all +the conditions, except the clause confining his operations and his +patents. They just drew their pen through that clause, and sent the +amended agreement to Bolt's hotel. He demurred to the amendment; but +Henry stood firm, and proposed a conference of four. This took place at +Dr. Amboyne's house, and at last the agreement was thus modified: the +use of the patents in Hillsborough to be confined to the firm of Bolt +and Little: but Little to be free to sell them, or work them in any +other town, and also free, in Hillsborough, to grind saws by hand, or do +any other established operation of cutlery. + +The parties signed; and Bolt went to work in earnest. With all his +resolution, he did not lack prudence. He went into the suburbs for his +site and bought a large piece of ground. He advertised for contracts +and plans, and brought them all to Henry, and profited by his practical +remarks. + +He warned the builders it must be a fortress, as well as a factory: but, +at Henry's particular request, he withheld the precise reason. "I'm not +to be rattened," said he. "I mean to stop that little game. I'm Ben Bolt, +that's bad to beat." + +At last the tender of Mr. White was accepted, and as Mr. Bolt, +experienced in the delays of builders, tied him tight as to time, he, on +his part, made a prompt and stringent contract with Messrs. Whitbread, +the brickmakers, and began to dig the foundations. + +All this Henry communicated to Grace, and was in high spirits over +it, and then so was she. He had a beautiful frame made for the little +picture she had given him, and hung it up in his studio. It became the +presiding genius, and indeed the animating spirit, of his life. + +Both to him and Grace the bright and hopeful period of their love had +come at last. Even Bolt contributed something to Little's happiness. +The man, hard as he was in business, was not without a certain rough +geniality; and then he was so brisk and bustling. His exuberant energy +pleased the inventor, and formed an agreeable relief to his reveries and +deep fits of study. + +The prospect was bright, and the air sunny. In the midst of all which +there rose in the horizon a cloud, like that seen by Elijah's servant, a +cloud no bigger than a man's hand. + +Bolt burst into the studio one day, like a shell, and, like a shell, +exploded. + +"Here's a pretty go! We're all at a standstill. The brickmakers have +struck." + +"Why, what is the matter?" + +"Fourpence. Young Whitbread, our brickmaker's son, is like you--a bit +of an inventor; he altered the shape of the bricks, to fit a small +hand-machine, and Whitbreads reckoned to save tenpence a thousand. The +brickmakers objected directly. Whitbreads didn't want a row, so they +offered to share the profit. The men sent two of their orators to +parley; I was standing by Whithread when they came up; you should have +heard 'em; anybody would have sworn the servants were masters, and the +masters negro slaves. When the servants had hectored a bit, the masters, +meek and mild, said they would give them sixpence out of the tenpence +sooner than they should feel dissatisfied. No; that wouldn't do. 'Well, +then,' says young Whitbread, 'are you agreed what will do?' 'Well,' said +one of the servants, 'we WILL ALLOW YOU TO MAKE THE BRICKS, if you give +us the tenpence.'" + +"That was cool," said Henry. "To be sure, all brainless beggars try to +starve invention." + +"Yes, my man: and you grumbled at my taking two-thirds. Labor is harder +on you inventors than capital is, you see. Well, I told 'em I wondered +at their cheek; but the old man stopped me, and spoke quite mild: +says he, 'You are too hard on us; we ought to gain a trifle by our own +improvement; if it had come from you, we should pay you for it;' and +he should stand by his offer of sixpence. So then the men told them it +would be the worse for them, and the old gentleman gave a bit of sigh, +and said he couldn't help that, he must live in the trade, or leave it, +he didn't much care which. Next morning they all struck work; and there +we are--stopped." + +"Well," said Henry, "it is provoking; but you mustn't ask me to meddle. +It's your business." + +"It is, and I'll show you I'm bad to beat." With this doughty resolve he +went off and drove the contractors; they drove the brickmakers, and the +brickmakers got fresh hands from a distance, and the promise of some +more. + +Bolt rubbed his hands, and kept popping into the yard to see how they +got on. By this means he witnessed an incident familiar to brickmakers +in that district, but new to him. Suddenly loud cries of pain were +heard, and two of the brickmakers held up hands covered with blood, and +transfixed by needles. Some ruffian had filled the clay with needles. +The sufferers were both disabled, and one went to the hospital. Tempered +clay enough to make two hundred thousand bricks had been needled, and +had to be cleared away at a loss of time and material. + +Bolt went and told Henry, and it only worried him; he could do nothing. +Bolt went and hired a watchman and a dog, at his own expense. The dog +was shot dead one dark night, and the watchman's box turned over and sat +upon, watchman included, while the confederates trampled fifty thousand +raw bricks into a shapeless mass. + +The brickmasters, however, stood firm, and at last four of the old hands +returned to him, and accepted the sixpence profit due to the master's +invention. These four were contribution-men, that is to say, they paid +the Union a shilling per week for permission to make bricks; but this +weekly payment was merely a sort of blackmail, it entitled them to no +relief from the Union when out of work: so a three-weeks' strike brought +them to starvation, and they could cooperate no longer with the genuine +Union men, who were relieved from the box all this time. Nevertheless, +though their poverty, and not their will, brought them back to work, +they were all threatened, and found themselves in a position that merits +the sympathy of all men, especially of the very poor. Starvation on one +side, sanguinary threats on the other, from an Union which abandoned +them in their need, yet expected them to stick by it and starve. In +short, the said Union was no pupil of Amboyne; could not put itself in +the place of these hungry men, and realize their dilemma; it could only +see the situation from its own point of view. From that intellectual +defect sprang a crime. On a certain dark night, Thomas Wilde, one of +these contribution-men, was burning bricks all by himself, when a body +of seven men came crawling up to within a little distance. These men +were what they call "victims," i.e., men on strike, and receiving pay +from the box. + +Now, when a man stands against the fire of a kiln, he cannot see many +yards from him: so five of the "victims" stood waiting, and sent two +forward. These two came up to Wilde, and asked him a favor. "Eh, mister, +can you let me and my mate lie down for an hour by your fire?" + +"You are welcome," said honest Wilde. He then turned to break a piece of +coal, and instantly one of those who had accepted his hospitality struck +him on the back of the head, and the other five rushed in, and they all +set on him, and hit him with cartlegs, and kicked him with their heavy +shoes. Overpowered as he was, he struggled away from them, groaning and +bleeding, and got to a shed about thirty yards off. But these relentless +men, after a moment's hesitation, followed him, and rained blows and +kicks on him again, till he gave himself up for dead. He cried out +in his despair, "Lord, have mercy on me; they have finished me!" and +fainted away in a pool of his own blood. But, just before he became +insensible, he heard a voice say, "Thou'll burn no more bricks." Then +the "victims" retired, leaving this great criminal for dead. + +After a long while he came to himself, and found his arm was broken, and +his body covered with cuts and bruises. His house was scarcely a furlong +distant, yet he was an hour crawling to it. His room was up a short +stair of ten steps. The steps beat him; he leaned on the rail at the +bottom, and called out piteously, "My wife! my wife! my wife!" three +times. + +Mrs. Wilde ran down to him, and caught hold of his hand, and said, +"Whatever is to do?" + +When she took his hand the pain made him groan, and she felt something +drip on to her hand. It was blood from his wounded arm. Then she was +terrified, and, strong with excitement, she managed to get him into the +house and lay him on the floor. She asked him, had he fallen off the +kiln? He tried to reply, but could not, and fainted again. This time he +was insensible for several hours. In the morning he came to, and told +his cruel story to Whitbread, Bolt, and others. Bolt and Whitbread took +it most to heart. Bolt went to Mr. Ransome, and put the case in his +hands. + +Ransome made this remark:--"Ah, you are a stranger, sir. The folk +hereabouts never come to us in these Union cases. I'll attend to it, +trust me." + +Bolt went with this tragedy to Henry, and it worried him; but he could +do nothing. "Mr. Bolt," said he, "I think you are making your own +difficulties. Why quarrel with the Brickmakers' Union? Surely that is +superfluous." + +"Why, it is them that quarreled with me; and I'm Ben Bolt, that is +bad to beat." He armed himself with gun and revolver, and watched the +Whitbreads' yard himself at night. + +Two days after this, young Whitbread's wife received an anonymous +letter, advising her, as a friend, to avert the impending fate of her +husband, by persuading him to dismiss the police and take back his +Hands. The letter concluded with this sentence, "He is generally +respected; but we have come to a determination to shoot him." + +Young Whitbread took no apparent notice of this, and soon afterward the +secretary of the Union proposed a conference. Bolt got wind of this, and +was there when the orators came. The deputation arrived, and, after a +very short preamble, offered to take the six-pence. + +"Why," said Bolt, "you must be joking. Those are the terms poor Wilde +came back on, and you have hashed him for it." + +Old Whitbread looked the men in the face, and said, gravely, "You are +too late. You have shed that poor man's blood; and you have sent an +anonymous letter to my son's wife. That lady has gone on her knees to us +to leave the trade, and we have consented. Fifteen years ago, your Union +wrote letters of this kind to my wife (she was pregnant at the time), +and drove her into her grave, with fright and anxiety for her husband. +You shall not kill Tom's wife as well. The trade is a poor one at best, +thanks to the way you have ground your employers down, and, when you +add to that needling our clay, and burning our gear, and beating our +servants to death's door, and driving our wives into the grave, we bid +you good-by. Mr. Bolt, I'm the sixth brickmaster this Union has driven +out of the trade by outrages during the last ten years." + +"Thou's a wrong-headed old chap," said the brickmakers' spokesman; "but +thou canst not run away with place. Them as takes to it will have to +take us on." + +"Not so. We have sold our plant to the Barton Machine Brickmaking +Company; and you maltreated them so at starting that now they won't let +a single Union man set his foot on their premises." + +The company in question made bricks better and cheaper than any other +brickmaster; but, making them by machinery, were ALWAYS at war with the +Brickmakers' Union, and, whenever a good chance occurred for destroying +their property, it was done. They, on their part, diminished those +chances greatly by setting up their works five miles from the town, and +by keeping armed watchmen and police. Only these ran away with their +profits. + +Now, when this company came so near the town, and proceeded to work up +Whitbread's clay, in execution of the contract with which their purchase +saddled them, the Brickmakers' Union held a great meeting, in which full +a hundred brickmakers took part, and passed extraordinary resolutions, +and voted extraordinary sums of money, and recorded both in their books. +These books were subsequently destroyed, for a reason the reader can +easily divine who has read this narrative with his understanding. + +Soon after that meeting, one Kay, a brickmaker, who was never seen to +make a brick--for the best of all reasons, he lived by blood alone--was +observed reconnoitering the premises, and that very night a quantity of +barrows, utensils, and tools were heaped together, naphtha poured over +them, and the whole set on fire. + +Another dark night, twenty thousand bricks were trampled so noiselessly +that the perpetrators were neither seen nor heard. + +But Bolt hired more men, put up a notice he would shoot any intruder +dead, and so frightened them by his blustering that they kept away, +being cowards at bottom, and the bricks were rapidly made, and burnt, +and some were even delivered; these bricks were carted from the yard to +the building site by one Harris, who had nothing to do with the quarrel; +he was a carter by profession, and wheeled bricks for all the world. + +One night this poor man's haystack and stable were all in flames in a +moment, and unearthly screams issued from the latter. + +The man ran out, half-naked, and his first thought was to save his good +gray mare from the fire. But this act of humanity had been foreseen and +provided against. The miscreants had crept into the stable, and tied the +poor docile beast fast by the head to the rack; then fired the straw. +Her screams were such as no man knew a horse could utter. They pierced +all hearts, however hard, till her burnt body burst the burnt cords, and +all fell together. Man could not aid her. But God can avenge her. + +As if the poor thing could tell whether she was drawing machine-made +bricks, or hand-made bricks! + +The incident is painful to relate; but it would be unjust to omit it. It +was characteristic of that particular Union; and, indeed, without it my +reader could not possibly appreciate the brickmaking mind. + +Bolt went off with this to Little; but Amboyne was there, and cut +his tales short. "I hope," said he, "that the common Creator of the +four-legged animal and the two-legged beasts will see justice done +between them; but you must not come here tormenting my inventor with +these horrors. Your business is to relieve him of all such worries, and +let him invent in peace." + +"Yes," said Little, "and I have told Mr. Bolt we can't avoid a +difficulty with the cutlers. But the brickmakers--what madness to go and +quarrel with them! I will have nothing to do with it, Mr. Bolt." + +"The cutlers! Oh, I don't mind them," said Bolt. "They are angels +compared with the brickmakers. The cutlers don't poison cows, and +hamstring horses, and tie them to fire; the cutlers don't fling little +boys into water-pits, and knock down little girls with their fists, +just because their fathers are non-Union men; the cutlers don't strew +poisoned apples and oranges about, to destroy whole families like rats. +Why, sir, I have talked with a man the brickmakers tried to throw into +boiling lime; and another they tried to poison with beer, and, when he +wouldn't drink it, threw vitriol in his eyes, and he's blind of an eye +to this day. There's full half a dozen have had bottles of gunpowder and +old nails flung into their rooms, with lighted fuses, where they were +sleeping with their families; they call that 'bottling a man;' it's a +familiar phrase. I've seen three cripples crawling about that have been +set on by numbers and spoiled for life, and as many fired at in the +dark; one has got a slug in his head to this day. And, with all that, +the greatest cowards in the world--daren't face a man in daylight, any +two of them; but I've seen the woman they knocked down with their fists, +and her daughter too, a mere child at the time. No, the cutlers are men, +but the brickmakers are beasts." + +"All the more reason for avoiding silly quarrels with the brickmakers," +said Little. + +Thus snubbed, Mr. Bolt retired, muttering something about "bad to beat." +He found Harris crying over the ashes of his mare, and the man refused +to wheel any more machine-made bricks. Other carters, being applied to, +refused also. They had received written warning, and dared not wheel one +of those bricks for their lives. + +The invincible Bolt bought a cart and a horse, hired two strangers, +armed them and himself with revolvers, and carted the bricks himself. +Five brickmakers waylaid him in a narrow lane; he took out his revolver, +and told them he'd send them all to hell if one laid a finger on him; at +this rude observation they fled like sheep. + +The invincible carted his bricks by day, and at night rode the horse +away to an obscure inn, and slept beside him, armed to the teeth. + +The result of all which was that one day he burst into Little's studio +shouting "Victory!" and told him two hundred thousand bricks were on +the premises, and twenty bricklayers would be at work on the foundations +that afternoon. + +Henry Little was much pleased at that, and when Bolt told him how he had +carted the bricks in person, said, "You are the man for me; you really +are bad to beat." + +While they were congratulating each other on this hard-earned victory, +Mr. Bayne entered softly, and said, "Mr. White--to speak to Mr. Bolt." + +"That is the builder," said Bolt. "Show him up." + +Mr. White came in with a long face. + +"Bad news, gentlemen; the Machine Brickmaking Company retires from +business, driven out of trade by their repeated losses from violence." + +"All the worse for the nation," said Bolt; "houses are a fancy +article--got to be. But it doesn't matter to us. We have got bricks +enough to go on with." + +"Plenty, sir; but that is not where the shoe pinches now. The +Brickmakers' Union has made it right with the Bricklayers' Union, +and the Bricklayers' Union orders us to cart back every one of those +machine-made bricks to the yard." + +"See them ---- first," said Bolt. + +"Well, sir, have you considered the alternative?" + +"Not I. What is it?" + +"Not a bricklayer in Hillsboro', or for fifty miles round, will set +a brick for us; and if we get men from a distance they will be talked +away, or driven away, directly. The place is picketed on every side at +this moment." + +Even Bolt was staggered now. "What is to be done, I wonder?" + +"There's nothing to be done but submit. When two such powerful Unions +amalgamate, resistance is useless, and the law of the land a dead +letter. Mr. Bolt, I'm not a rich man; I've got a large family; let me +beg of you to release me from the contract." + +"White, you are a cur. Release you? never!" + +"Then, sir, I'll go through the court and release myself." + + +Henry Little was much dejected by this monstrous and unforeseen obstacle +arising at the very threshold of his hopes. He felt so sad, that he +determined to revive himself with a sight of Grace Carden. He pined for +her face and voice. So he went up to Woodbine Villa, though it was +not his day. As he drew near that Paradise, the door opened, and Mr. +Frederick Coventry came out. The two men nearly met at the gate. The +rejected lover came out looking bright and happy, and saw the accepted +lover arrive, looking depressed and careworn; he saw in a moment +something was going wrong, and turned on his heel with a glance of +triumph. + +Henry Little caught that glance, and stood at the gate black with rage. +he stood there about a minute, and then walked slowly home again: he +felt he should quarrel with Grace if he went in, and, by a violent +effort of self-restraint, he retraced his steps; but he went home sick +at heart. + +The mother's eye read his worn face in a moment, and soon she had it all +out of him. It cost her a struggle not to vent her maternal spleen +on Grace; but she knew that would only make her son more unhappy. She +advised him minutely what to say to the young lady about Mr. Coventry: +and, as to the other matters she said, "You have found Mr. Bolt not so +bad to beat as he tells you: for he is beaten, and there's an end of +him. Now let ME try." + +"Why, what on earth can you do in a case of this kind?" + +"Have I ever failed when you have accepted my assistance?" + +"No: that's true. Well, I shall be glad of your assistance now, heaven +knows; only I can't imagine--" + +"Never mind: will you take Grace Carden if I throw her into your arms?" + +"Oh, mother, can you ask me?" + +Mrs. Little rang the bell, and ordered a fly. Henry offered to accompany +her. She declined. "Go to bed early," said she, "and trust to your +mother. We are harder to beat sometimes than a good many Mr. Bolts." + +She drove to Dr. Amboyne's house, and sent in her name. She was ushered +into the doctor's study, and found him shivering over an enormous fire. +"Influenza." + +"Oh dear," said she, "I'm afraid you are very ill." + +"Never mind that. Sit down. You will not make me any worse, you may be +sure of that." And he smiled affectionately on her. + +"But I came to intrude my own troubles on you." + +"All the better. That will help me forget mine." + +Mrs. Little seated herself, and, after a slight hesitation, opened her +battery thus:--"Well, my good friend, I am come to ask you a favor. It +is to try and reconcile my brother and me. If any one can do it, you +can." + +"Praise the method, not the man. If one could only persuade you to put +yourself in his place, and him to put himself in yours, you would be +both reconciled in five minutes." + +"You forget we have been estranged this five-and-twenty years." + +"No I don't. The only question is, whether you can and will deviate from +the practice of the world into an obese lunatic's system, both of you." + +"Try ME, to begin." + +The doctor's eyes sparkled with satisfaction. "Well, then," said he, +"first you must recollect all the differences you have seen between the +male and female mind, and imagine yourself a man." + +"Oh, dear! that is so hard. But I have studied Henry. Well, there--I +have unsexed myself--in imagination." + +"You are not only a man but a single-minded man, with a high and clear +sense of obligation. You are a trustee, bound by honor to protect +the interests of a certain woman and a certain child. The lady, under +influence, wishes to borrow her son's money, and risk it on rotten +security. You decline, and the lady's husband affronts you. In spite +of that affront, being a high-minded man not to be warped by petty +irritation, you hurry to your lawyers to get two thousand pounds of your +own, for the man who had affronted you." + +"Is that so?" said Mrs. Little. "I was not aware of that." + +"I have just learned it, accidentally, from the son of the solicitor +Raby went to that fatal night." + +A tear stole down Mrs. Little's cheek. + +"Now, remember, you are not a woman, but a brave, high-minded man. In +that character you pity poor Mr. Little, but you blame him a little +because he fled from trouble, and left his wife and child in it. To you, +who are Guy Raby--mind that, please--it seems egotistical and weak to +desert your wife and child even for the grave." (The widow buried her +face and wept. Twenty-five years do something to withdraw the veil the +heart has cast over the judgment.) "But, whatever you feel, you utter +only regret, and open your arms to your sister. She writes back in an +agony, for which, being a man, you can not make all the allowance you +would if you were a woman, and denounces you as her husband's murderer, +and bids you speak to her and write to her no more, and with that she +goes to the Littles. Can you blame yourself that, after all this, +you wait for her to review your conduct more soberly, and to invite a +reconciliation." + +Mrs. Little gave Dr. Amboyne her hand, "Bitter, but wholesome medicine!" +she murmured, and then was too overcome to speak for a little while. + +"Ah, my good, wise friend!" said she at last, "thick clouds seem +clearing from my mind; I begin to see I was the one to blame." + +"Yes; and if Raby will be as docile as you, and put himself in your +place, he will tell me he was the one to blame. There's no such thing as +'the one to blame;' there very seldom is. You judged him as if he was +a woman, he judged you as if you were a man. Enter an obese maniac, and +applies the art of arts; the misunderstanding dissolves under it, and +you are in each other's arms. But, stop"--and his countenance fell again +a little: "I am afraid there is a new difficulty. Henry's refusal to +take the name of Raby and be his heir. Raby was bitterly mortified, +and I fear he blames me and my crotchets; for he has never been near me +since. To be sure you are not responsible for Henry's act." + +"No, indeed; for, between you and me, it mortified me cruelly. And +now things have taken a turn--in short, what with his love, and his +jealousy, and this hopeless failure to make a fortune by inventing, I +feel I can bring him to his senses. I am not pleased with Grace Carden +about something; but no matter, I shall call on her and show her she +must side with me in earnest. You will let my brother know I was always +on his side in THAT matter, whatever other offense I may have given him +years ago." + +"And I am on your side, too. Your son has achieved a small independence. +Bayne can carry on the little factory, and Henry can sell or lease +his patents; he can never sink to a mere dependent. There, I throw my +crotchets to the wind, and we will Raby your son, and marry him to Grace +Carden." + +"God bless you, my good and true friend! How can I ever thank you?" Her +cheek flushed, and her great maternal eye sparkled, and half the beauty +of her youth came back. Her gratitude gave a turn to the conversation +which she neither expected nor desired. + +"Mrs. Little," said Dr. Amboyne, "this is the first time you have +entered my den, and the place seems transformed by your presence. My +youth comes back to me with the feelings I thought time had blunted; +but no, I feel that, when you leave my den again, it will be darker than +ever, if you do not leave me a hope that you will one day enter it for +good." + +"For shame! At our age!--" said the widow. + +But she spoilt the remonstrance by blushing like a girl of eighteen. + +"You are not old in my eyes; and, as for me, let my years plead for me, +since all those years I have lived single for your sake." + +This last appeal shook Mrs. Little. She said she could not entertain any +such thoughts whilst her son was unhappy. "But marry him to his Grace, +and then--I don't know what folly I might not be persuaded into." + +The doctor was quite content with that. He said he would go to Raby, as +soon as he could make the journey with safety, and her troubles and her +son's should end. + +Mrs. Little drove home, a happy mother. As for the promise she had made +her old friend, it vexed her a little, she was so used to look at him +in another light; but she shrugged her maternal shoulders, as much as to +say, "When once my Henry leaves me--why not?" + +She knew she must play the politician a little with Henry, so she opened +the battery cautiously. "My dear," said she, at breakfast, "good news! +Dr. Amboyne undertakes to reconcile us both to your uncle." + +"All the better. Mr. Raby is a wrong-headed man, but he is a +noble-minded one, that is certain." + +"Yes, and I have done him injustice. Dr. Amboyne has shown me that." + +She said no more. One step at a time. + +Henry went up to Woodbine Villa and Grace received him a little coldly. +He asked what was the matter. She said, "They tell me you were at the +very door the other day, and did not come in." + +"It is true," said he. "Another had just come out--Mr. Coventry." + +"And you punished ME because that poor man had called on me. Have you +not faith in me? or what is it? I shall be angry one of these days." + +"No, you will not, if I can make you understand my feelings. Put +yourself in my place, dearest. Here am I, fighting the good fight for +you, against long odds; and, at last, the brickmakers and bricklayers +have beat us. Now you know that is a bitter cup for me to drink. Well, +I come up here for my one drop of comfort; and out walks my declared +rival, looks into my face, sees my trouble there, and turns off with a +glance of insolent triumph." (Grace flushed.) "And then consider: I am +your choice, yet I am only allowed to visit you once a week." + +"That is papa's doing." + +"No matter; so it is. Yet my rival can come when he pleases: and no +doubt he does come every other day." + +"You fancy that." + +"It is not all fancy; for--by heaven! there he is at the gate. Two +visits to my one; there. Well, all the better, I'll talk to HIM." + +He rose from his seat black with wrath. + +Grace turned pale, and rang the bell in a moment. + +The servant entered the room, just as Mr. Coventry knocked at the door. + +"Not at home to anybody," said she. + +Mr. Coventry's voice was heard to say incredulously, "Not at home?" Then +he retired slowly, and did not leave the neighborhood. He had called at +an hour when Grace was always at home. + +Henry sat down, and said, "Thank you, Grace." But he looked very gloomy +and disturbed. + +She sat down too, and then they looked at each other. + +Henry was the first to speak. "We are both pupils of the good doctor. +Put yourself in my place. That man troubles our love, and makes my heavy +heart a sore heart." + +The tears were in Grace's eyes. "Dearest," said she, "I will not put +myself in your place; you would lose by that, for I love you better than +myself. Yes, it is unjust that you should be allowed to visit me but +once a week, and he should visit me when he chooses. I assure you I have +permitted his visits out of pure good-nature; and now I will put an end +to them." + +She drew her desk toward her, and wrote to Mr. Coventry. It took her +some little time. She handed Henry the letter to read. He took it in his +hand; but hesitated. He inquired what would be the effect of it? + +"That he will never visit me again till you and I are married, or +engaged, and that is the same thing. Why don't you read it?" + +"I don't know: it goes against me, somehow. Seems unmanly. I'll take +your word for it." + +This charmed Grace. "Ah," said she, "I have chosen right." + +Then he kissed her hands, and blessed her: and then she told him it +was nothing; he was a goose, and had no idea what she would do for him; +"more than you would do for me, I know," said she. + +That he denied, and then she said she might perhaps put him to the proof +some day. + +They were so happy together, time slipped away unheeded. It was full +three hours before Henry could tear himself away, though he knew he +was wanted at the works; and he went out at the gate, glowing with +happiness: and Coventry, who was ready to drop with the fatigue of +walking and watching just above, saw him come out triumphant. + +Then it was his turn to feel a deadly qualm. However, he waited a little +longer, and then made his call. + +"Not at home." + + +Henry, on his way to the works, looked in on his mother, and told her +how nobly Grace had behaved. + +Mrs. Little was pleased, and it smoothed down her maternal bristles, and +made it much easier for her to carry out her design. For the first time +since Mr. Carden had offended her by his cold-blooded treatment of her +son, she called at Woodbine Villa. + +Grace was at home to see her, and met her with a blushing timidity, and +piteous, wistful looks, not easy to misunderstand nor to resist. + +They soon came to an understanding, and Mrs. Little told Grace what Dr. +Amboyne had promised to do, and represented to her how much better it +would be for Henry to fall into his uncle Raby's views, than to engage +in hopeless struggles like that in which Mr. Bolt and he had just been +so signally defeated. "And then, you know, my dear, you could marry next +month--you two; that is to say, if YOU felt disposed: I will answer for +Henry." + +Grace's red face and swimming eyes told how this shaft went home. In +short, she made a coy promise that she would co-operate with Mrs. Little +"and," said she, "how lucky! he has almost promised to grant me the +first favor I ask him. Well, I shall entreat him to be a good nephew, +and do whatever dear Mr. Raby asks him. But of course I shall not say, +and then if you do, you and I"--here the young lady cut her sentence +very short. + +"Of course not," said Mrs. Little. "THAT will follow as a matter of +course. Now, my dear, you and I are conspirators--for his good: and we +must write often and let each other know all we do." + +With this understanding, and a good many pretty speeches and kisses, +they parted. + +Dr. Amboyne did not recover so quickly as they could have wished; but +they employed the interval. Feelers were adroitly applied to Henry by +both ladies, and they were pleased to find that he rather admired his +wrong-headed uncle, and had been deeply touched by the old gentleman's +address to his mother's picture. + +Bolt never came near him, and the grass was beginning to grow on +the condemned bricks. In short, every thing seemed to incline in one +direction. + +There was, however, something very serious going on out of their sight. + +"Not at home!" That white lie made Mr. Coventry feel sick at heart. +He went home disconsolate. The same evening he received Miss Carden's +letter. + +The writer treated him like a gentleman, said a few words about her own +peculiar position, and begged him to consider that position, and to be +very generous; to cease his visits entirely for the present, and so give +himself one more title to her esteem, which was all she had to give him. +This was the purport, and the manner was simply perfect, so gentle yet +firm; and then she flattered his amour propre by asking that from his +generosity which she could have taken as a right: she did all she could +to soften the blow. But she failed. The letter was posted too soon after +Henry's visit. Behind the velvet paw that struck him, Coventry saw the +claws of the jealous lover. He boiled with rage and agony, and cursed +them both in his fury. + +After an hour or two of frenzy, he sat down and wrote back a letter full +of bitter reproaches and sneers. He reflected. He lighted a cigar and +smoked it, biting it almost through, now and then. He burned his letter. +He lay awake all night, raging and reflecting alternately, as passion or +judgment got the upper hand. + +In the morning he saw clearer. "Don't quarrel with HER. Destroy HIM." He +saw this as plainly as if it was written. + +He wrote Grace a few sad lines, to say that of course he submitted to +her will. The letter ended thus: "Since I can do nothing to please you, +let me suffer to please you: even that is something." + +(This letter brought the tears to Grace's eyes, and she pitied and +esteemed the writer.) + +He put on a plain suit, and drove into Hillsborough, burning with +wild ideas of vengeance. He had no idea what he should do; but he was +resolved to do something. He felt capable of assassinating Little with +his own hand. + +I should be sorry to gain any sympathy for him; but it is only fair +the reader should understand that he felt deeply aggrieved, and that +we should all feel aggrieved under similar circumstances. Priority is a +title, all the world over; and he had been the lady's lover first, had +been encouraged, and supplanted. + +Longing to wound, but not knowing how to strike, he wandered about the +town, and went into several factories, and talked to some of the men, +and contrived to bring the conversation round to Little, and learn what +he was doing. But he gathered no information of any use to him. Then +he went to Grotait's place, and tried to pump him. That sagacious +man thought this odd, and immediately coupled this with his previous +denunciation of Little, and drew him on. + +Coventry was too much under the influence of passion to be quite master +of himself that day; and he betrayed to this other Machiavel that he +wished ill to Henry Little. As soon as he had thoroughly ascertained +this, Grotrait turned coolly on him, and said, "I am sorry Mr. Little +has got enemies; for he and his partner talk of building a new factory, +and that will be a good thing for us: take a score of saw-grinders +off the box." Then Coventry saw he had made a mistake, and left "The +Cutlers' Arms" abruptly. + +Next day he took a lodging in the town, and went about groping for +information, and hunting for a man whose face he knew, but not his name. +He learned all about Bolt and Little's vain endeavor to build, and went +and saw the place, and the condemned bricks. The sight gratified him. +He visited every saw-grinder's place he could hear of; and, at last, he +fell in with Sam Cole, and recognized him at once. That worthy affected +not to know him, and went on grinding a big saw. Coventry stepped up +to him, and said in his ear, "I want to speak with you. Make an +appointment." + +Cole looked rather sulky and reluctant at being drawn from his +obscurity. However, he named a low public-house in a back slum, and +there these two met that night, and for greater privacy were soon seated +in a place bigger than a box and smaller than a room with discolored +walls, and a rough wooden table before them splashed with beer. It +looked the very den to hatch villainy in, and drink poison to its +success. + +Coventry, pale and red alternately, as fear and shame predominated, +began to beat about the bush. + +"You and I have reason to hate the same man. You know who I mean." + +"I can guess. Begins with a Hel." + +"He has wronged me deeply; and he hurt you." + +"That is true, sir. I think he broke my windpipe, for I'm as hoarse as +a raven ever since: and I've got one or two of the shot in my cheek +still." + +"Well, then, now is your time to be revenged." + +"Well, I don't know about that. What he done was in self-defense; and if +I play bowls I must look for rubs." + +Coventry bit his lip with impatience. After a pause, he said, "What were +you paid for that job?" + +"Not half enough." + +"Twenty pounds?" + +"Nor nothing like it." + +"I'll give you a hundred to do it again, only more effectually." He +turned very pale when he had made this offer. + +"Ah," said Cole, "anybody could tell you was a gentleman." + +"You accept my offer, then?" + +"Nay, I mean it is easy to see you don't know trades. I musn't meddle +with Mr. Little now; he is right with the Trade." + +"What, not if I pay you five times as much? say ten times then; two +hundred pounds." + +"Nay, we Union chaps are not malefactors. You can't buy us to injure an +unoffending man. We have got our laws, and they are just ones, and, if a +man will break them, after due warning, the order is given to 'do' him, +and the men are named for the job, and get paid a trifle for their risk; +and the risk is not much, the Trade stand by one another too true, and +in so many ways. But if a man is right with the Trade, it is treason to +harm him. No, I mustn't move a finger against Little." + +"You have set up a conscience!" said Coventry bitterly. + +"You dropped yours, and I picked it up," was the Yorkshireman's ready +reply. He was nettled now. + +At this moment the door was opened and shut very swiftly, and a whisper +came in through the momentary aperture, "Mind your eye, Sam Cole." + +Coventry rushed to the door and looked out; there was nobody to be seen. + +"You needn't trouble yourself," said Cole. "You might as well run after +the wind. That was a friendly warning. I know the voice, and Grotait +must be on to us. Now, sir, if you offered me a thousand pounds, I +wouldn't touch a hair of Mr. Little: he is right with the Trade, and +we should have Grotait and all the Trade as bitter as death against us. +I'll tell you a secret, sir, that I've kept from my wife"--(he lowered +his voice to a whisper)--"Grotait could hang me any day he chose. You +must chink your brass in some other ear, as the saying is: only mind, +you did me a good turn once, and I'll do you one now; you have been +talking to somebody else besides me, and blown yourself: so now drop +your little game, and let Little alone, or the Trade will make it their +job to LAY YOU." + +Coventry's face betrayed so much alarm, that the man added, "And penal +servitude wouldn't suit the likes of you. Keep out of it." + +With this rough advice the conference ended, and Mr. Coventry went home +thoroughly shaken in his purpose, and indeed not a little anxious on +his own account. Suppose he had been overheard! his offer to Cole was +an offense within reach of the criminal law. What a mysterious labyrinth +was this Trade confederacy, into which he had put his foot so rashly, +and shown his game, like a novice, to the subtle and crafty Grotait. He +now collected all his powers, not to injure Little, but to slip out of +his own blunder. + +He seized this opportunity to carry out a coup he had long meditated: he +went round to a dozen timber-merchants, and contracted with them for the +sale of every tree, old or young, on his estate; and, while the trees +were falling like grain, and the agents on both sides measuring the +fallen, he vanished entirely from Hillsborough and Bollinghope. + + +Dr. Amboyne's influenza was obstinate, and it was nearly a fortnight +before he was strong enough to go to Cairnhope; but at last Mrs. Little +received a line from him, to say he was just starting, and would come +straight to her on his return: perhaps she would give him a cup of tea. + +This letter came very opportunely. Bolt had never shown his face again; +and Henry had given up all hopes of working his patents, and had said +more than once he should have to cross the water and sell them. + +As for Mrs. Little, she had for some time maintained a politic silence. +But now she prepared for the doctor's visit as follows: "So, then, you +have no more hopes from the invincible Mr. Bolt?" + +"None whatever. He must have left the town in disgust." + +"He is a wise man. I want you to imitate his example. Henry, my dear, +what is the great object of your life at present? Is it not to marry +Grace Carden?" + +"You know it is." + +"Then take her from my hands. Why do you look so astonished? Have you +forgotten my little boast?" Then, in a very different tone, "You will +love your poor mother still, when you are married? You will say, 'I owe +her my wife,' will you not?" + +Henry was so puzzled he could not reply even to this touching appeal, +made with eyes full of tears at the thought of parting with him. + +Mrs. Little proceeded to explain: "Let me begin at the beginning. Dr. +Amboyne has shown me I was more to blame than your uncle, was. Would +you believe it? although he refused your poor father the trust-money, he +went that moment to get L2000 of his own, and lend it to us. Oh, Henry, +when Dr Amboyne told me that, and opened my eyes, I could have thrown +myself at poor Guy's feet. I have been the most to blame in our unhappy +quarrel; and I have sent Dr. Amboyne to say so. Now, Henry, my brother +will forgive me, the doctor says; and, oh, my heart yearns to be +reconciled. You will not stand in my way, dearest?" + +"Not likely. Why, I am under obligations to him, for my part." + +"Yes, but Dr. Amboyne says dear Guy is deeply mortified by your refusal +to be his heir. For my sake, for your own sake, and for Grace Carden's +sake; change your mind now." + +"What, go into his house, and wait for dead men's shoes! Find myself +some day wishing in my heart that noble old fellow would die! Such a +life turns a man's stomach even to think of it." + +"No, no. Dr. Amboyne says that Mr. Bayne can conduct your business here, +and hand you a little income, without your meddling." + +"That is true." + +"And, as for your patents, gentlemen can sell them to traders, or lease +them out. My brother would make a settlement on Grace and you--she is +his goddaughter--now that is all Mr. Carden demands. Then you could +marry, and, on your small present income, make a little tour together; +and dispose of your patents in other places." + +"I could do great things with them in the United States." + +"That is a long way." + +"Why, it is only twelve days." + +"Well, marry first," said the politic mother. + +Henry flushed all over. "Ah!" said he, "you tempt me. Heaven seems to +open its gates as you speak. But you can not be in earnest; he made +it an express condition I should drop my father's name, and take his. +Disown my poor dead father? No, no, no!" + +Now in reality this condition was wormwood to Mrs. Little; but she knew +that if she let her son see her feeling, all was over. She was all the +mother now, and fighting for her son's happiness: so she sacrificed +truth to love with an effort, but without a scruple. "It is not as if +it was a strange name. Henry, you compel me to say things that tear my +heart to say, but--which has been your best friend, your mother, or your +poor dear father?" + +Henry was grieved at the question: but he was a man who turned his back +on nothing. "My father loved me," said he: "I can remember that; but he +deserted me, and you, in trouble; but you--you have been friend, parent, +lover, and guardian angel to me. And, oh, how little I have done to +deserve it all!" + +"Well, dear, the mother you value so highly, her name was Raby. Yes, +love; and, forgive me, I honor and love my mother's name even more +than I do the name of Little"--(the tears ran out of her eyes at this +falsehood)--"pray take it, to oblige me, and reconcile me to my dear +brother, and end our troubles forever." Then she wept on his neck, and +he cried with her. + +After a while, he said, "I feel my manhood all melting away together. +I am quite confused. It is hard to give up a noble game. It is hard to +refuse such a mother as you. Don't cry any more, for mercy's sake! I'm +like to choke. Mind, crying is work I'm not used to. What does SHE say? +I am afraid I shall win her, but lose her respect." + +"She says she admires your pride; but you have shown enough. If you +refuse any longer, she will begin to fear you don't love her as well as +she loves you." + +This master-stroke virtually ended the battle. Henry said nothing, but +the signs of giving way were manifest in him, so manifest that Mrs. +Little became quite impatient for the doctor's arrival to crown all. + +He drove up to the door at last, and Henry ran out and brought him in. +He looked pale, and sat down exhausted. + +Mrs. Little restrained her impatience, and said, "We are selfish +creatures to send you on our business before you are half well." + +"I am well enough in health," said he, "but I am quite upset." + +"What is the matter? Surely you have not failed? Guy does not refuse his +forgiveness?" + +"No, it is not that. Perhaps, if I had been in time--but the fact is, +Guy Raby has left England." + +"What, for good? Impossible!" + +"Who can tell? All I know is that he has sold his horses, discharged his +servants all but one, and gone abroad without a word. I was the friend +of his youth--his college chum; he must be bitterly wounded to go away +like that, and not even let me know." + +Mrs. Little lifted up her hands. "What have we done? what have we done? +Wounded! no wonder. Oh, my poor, wronged, insulted brother!" + +She wept bitterly, and took it to heart so, it preyed on her health and +spirits. She was never the same woman from that hour. + +While her son and her friend were saying all they could to console her, +there appeared at the gate the last man any of them ever expected to +see--Mr. Bolt. + +Henry saw him first, and said so. + +"Keep him out," cried the doctor, directly. "Don't let that bragging +fool in to disturb our sorrow." He opened the door and told the +servant-girl to say "Not at home." + +"Not at home," said the girl. + +"That's a lie!" shouted Bolt, and shoved her aside and burst into the +room. "None of your tricks on travelers," said he, in his obstreperous +way. "I saw your heads through the window. Good news, my boy! I've done +the trick. I wouldn't say a word till it was all settled, for Brag's a +good dog, but Holdfast's a better. I've sold my building-site to some +gents that want to speculate in a church, and I've made five hundred +pounds profit by the sale. I'm always right, soon or late. And I've +bought a factory ready made--the Star Works; bought 'em, sir, with all +the gear and plant, and working hands." + +"The Star Works? The largest but one in Hillsborough!" + +"Ay, lad. Money and pluck together, they'll beat the world. We have got +a noble place, with every convenience. All we have got to do now is to +go in and win." + +Young Little's eyes sparkled. "All right," said he, "I like this way the +best." + +Mrs. Little sighed. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX. + + +In that part of London called "the City" are shady little streets, +that look like pleasant retreats from the busy, noisy world; yet are +strongholds of business. + +One of these contained, and perhaps still contains, a public office +full of secrets, some droll, some sad, some terrible. The building had a +narrow, insignificant front, but was of great depth, and its south side +lighted by large bay windows all stone and plate-glass; and these were +open to the sun and air, thanks to a singular neighbor. Here, in +the heart of the City, was wedged a little rustic church, with its +church-yard, whose bright-green grass first startled, then soothed +and refreshed the eye, in that wilderness of stone--an emerald set in +granite. The grass flowed up to the south wall of the "office;" those +massive stone windows hung over the graves; the plumed clerks could not +look out of window and doubt that all men are mortal: and the article +the office sold was immortality. + +It was the Gosshawk Life Insurance. + +On a certain afternoon anterior to the Hillsborough scenes last +presented, the plumed clerks were all at the south windows, looking at a +funeral in the little church-yard, and passing some curious remarks; +for know that the deceased was insured in the Gosshawk for nine hundred +pounds, and had paid but one premium. + +The facts, as far as known, were these. Mr. Richard Martin, a Londoner +by birth, but residing in Wales, went up to London to visit his brother. +Toward the end of the visit the two Martins went up the river in a boat, +with three more friends, and dined at Richmond. They rowed back in +the cool of the evening. At starting they were merely jovial; but they +stopped at nearly all the public-houses by the water-side, and, by +visible gradations, became jolly--uproarious--sang songs--caught crabs. +At Vauxhall they got a friendly warning, and laughed at it: under +Southwark bridge they ran against an abutment, and were upset in a +moment: it was now dusk, and, according to their own account, they all +lost sight of each other in the water. One swam ashore in Middlesex, +another in Surrey, a third got to the chains of a barge, and was taken +up much exhausted, and Robert Martin laid hold of the buttress itself, +and cried loudly for assistance. They asked anxiously after each other, +but their anxiety appeared to subside in an hour or two, when they found +there was nobody missing but Richard Martin. Robert told the police it +was all right, Dick could swim like a cork. However, next morning he +came with a sorrowful face to say his brother had not reappeared, and +begged them to drag the river. This was done, and a body found, which +the survivors and Mrs. Richard Martin disowned. + +The insurance office was informed, and looked into the matter; and Mrs. +Martin told their agent, with a flood of tears, she believed her husband +had taken that opportunity to desert her, and was not drowned at all. Of +course this went to the office directly. + +But a fortnight afterward a body was found in the water down at +Woolwich, entangled in some rushes by the water-side. + +Notice was given to all the survivors. + +The friends of Robert Martin came, and said the clothes resembled those +worn by Richard Martin; but beyond that they could not be positive. + +But, when the wife came, she recognized the body at once. + +The brother agreed with her, but, on account of the bloated and +discolored condition of the face, asked to have the teeth examined: +his poor brother, he said, had a front tooth broken short in two. This +broken tooth was soon found; also a pencil-case, and a key, in the +pocket of the deceased. These completed the identification. + +Up to this moment the conduct of Richard Martin's relatives and friends +had been singularly apathetic; but now all was changed; they broke into +loud lamentations, and he became the best of husbands, best of men: +his lightest words were sacred. Robert Martin now remembered that "poor +Dick" had stood and looked into that little church-yard and said, "If +you outlive me, Bob, bury me in this spot; father lies here." So Robert +Martin went to the church-warden, for leave to do this last sad office. +The church-warden refused, very properly, but the brother's entreaties, +the widow's tears, the tragedy itself, and other influences, extorted at +last a reluctant consent, coupled with certain sanatory conditions. + +The funeral was conducted unobtrusively, and the grave dug out of sight +of Gosshawk. But of course it could not long escape observation; that +is to say, it was seen by the clerks; but the directors and manager were +all seated round a great table upstairs absorbed in a vital question, +viz., whether or not the Gosshawk should imitate some other companies, +and insure against fire as well as death. It was the third and last +discussion; the minority against this new operation was small, but +obstinate and warm, and the majority so absorbed in bringing them to +reason, that nobody went to the window until the vote had passed, and +the Gosshawk was a Life and Fire Insurance. Then some of the gentlemen +rose and stretched their legs, and detected the lugubrious enormity. +"Hallo!" cried Mr. Carden, and rang a bell. Edwards, an old clerk, +appeared, and, in reply to Mr. Carden, told him it was one of their +losses being buried--Richard Martin. + +Mr. Carden said this was an insult to the office, and sent Edwards out +to remonstrate. + +Edwards soon reappeared with Robert Martin, who represented, with the +utmost humility, that it was the wish of the deceased, and they had +buried him, as ordered, in three feet of charcoal. + +"What, is the ceremony performed?" + +"Yes, sir, all but filling in the grave. Come and see the charcoal." + +"Hang the charcoal!" + +"Well," said the humane but somewhat pompous director, "if the ceremony +has gone so far--but, Mr. Martin, this must never recur, charcoal or no +charcoal." + +Mr. Martin promised it never should: and was soon after observed in the +church-yard urging expedition. + +The sad company speedily dispersed, and left nothing to offend nor +disgust the Life and Fire Insurance, except a new grave, and a debt of +nine hundred pounds to the heirs or assigns of Richard Martin. + +Not very far from this church-yard was a public-house; and in that +public-house a small parlor upstairs, and in that parlor a man, who +watched the funeral rites with great interest; but not in a becoming +spirit; for his eyes twinkled with the intensest merriment all the time, +and at each fresh stage of the mournful business he burst into peals of +laughter. Never was any man so thoroughly amused in the City before, at +all events in business hours. + +Richard Martin's executor waited a decent time, and then presented his +claim to the Gosshawk. His brother proved a lien on it for L300 and the +rest went by will to his wife. The Gosshawk paid the money after the +delay accorded by law. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. + + +Messrs. Bolt and Little put their heads together, and played a prudent +game. They kept the works going for a month, without doing anything +novel, except what tended to the health and comfort of their workmen. + +But, meantime, they cleared out two adjacent rooms: one was called the +studio, the other the experiment-room. + +In due course they hired a couple of single men from Birmingham to work +the machine under lock and key. + +Little with his own hands, affected an aperture in the party-wall, and +thus conveyed long saws from his studio to the machine, and received +them back ground. + +Then men were lodged three miles off, were always kept at work half an +hour later than the others, and received six pounds per week apiece, on +pain of instant dismissal should they breathe a syllable. They did the +work of twenty-four men; so even at that high rate of wages, the profit +was surprising. It actually went beyond the inventor's calculation, and +he saw himself at last on the road to rapid fortune, and, above all, to +Grace Carden. + +This success excited Bolt's cupidity, and he refused to contract the +operation any longer. + +Then the partners had a quarrel, and nearly dissolved. However, it +ended in Little dismissing his Birmingham hands and locking up his +"experiment-room," and in Bolt openly devoting another room to the +machines: two long, two circular. + +These machines coined money, and Bolt chuckled and laughed at his +partner's apprehensions for the space of twenty-one days. + +On the twenty-second day, the Saw-grinders' Union, which had been +stupefied at first, but had now realized the situation, sent Messrs. +Bolt and Little a letter, civil and even humble; it spoke of the new +invention as one that, if adopted, would destroy their handicraft, and +starve the craftsmen and their families, and expressed an earnest hope +that a firm which had shown so much regard for the health and comfort +of the workmen would not persist in a fatal course, on which they had +entered innocently and for want of practical advice. + +The partners read this note differently. Bolt saw timidity in it. +Little saw a conviction, and a quiet resolution, that foreboded a stern +contest. + +No reply was sent, and the machines went on coining. + +Then came a warning to Little, not violent, but short, and rather grim. +Little took it to Bolt, and he treated it with contempt. + +Two days afterward the wheel-bands vanished, and the obnoxious machines +stood still. + +Little was for going to Grotait, to try and come to terms. Bolt +declined. He bought new bands, and next day the machines went on again. + +This pertinacity soon elicited a curious epistle: + + +"MESSRS. BOLT AND LITTLE,--When the blood is in an impure state, +brimstone and treacle is applied as a mild purgative; our taking the +bands was the mild remedy; but, should the seat of disease not be +reached, we shall take away the treacle, and add to the brimstone a +necessary quantity of saltpetre and charcoal. + +"TANTIA TOPEE." + + +On receipt of this, Little, who had tasted the last-mentioned drugs, +showed such undisguised anxiety that Bolt sent for Ransome. He came +directly, and was closeted with the firm. Bolt handed him the letters, +told him the case, and begged leave to put him a question. "Is the +police worth any thing, or nothing, in this here town?" + +"It is worth something, I hope, gentlemen." + +"How much, I wonder? Of all the bands that have been stolen, and all the +people that have been blown up, and scorched and vitrioled, and shot +at, and shot, by Union men, did ever you and your bobbies nail a single +malefactor?" + +Now Mr. Ransome was a very tall man, with a handsome, dignified head, +a long black beard, and pleasant, dignified manners. When short, +round, vulgar Mr. Bolt addressed him thus, it really was like a terrier +snapping at a Newfoundland dog. Little felt ashamed, and said Mr. +Ransome had been only a few months in office in the place. "Thank you, +Mr. Little," said the chief constable. "Mr Bolt, I'll ask you a favor. +Meet me at a certain place this evening, and let me reply to your +question then and there." + +This singular proposal excited some curiosity, and the partners accepted +the rendezvous. Ransome came to the minute, and took the partners into +the most squalid part of this foul city. At the corner of a narrow +street he stepped and gave a low whistle. A policeman in plain clothes +came to him directly. + +"They are both in the 'Spotted Dog,' sir, with half a dozen more." + +"Follow me, and guard the door. Will you come, too, gentlemen?" + +The "Spotted Dog" was a low public, with one large room and a sanded +floor. Mr. Ransome walked in and left the door open, so that his three +companions heard and saw all that passed. + +"Holland and Cheetham, you are wanted." + +"What for?" + +"Wilde's affair. He has come to himself, and given us your names." + +On this the two men started up and were making for the door. Ransome +whipped before it. "That won't do." + +Then there was a loud clatter of rising feet, oaths, threats, and even a +knife or two drawn; and, in the midst of it all, the ominous click of a +pistol, and then dead silence; for it was Ransome who had produced that +weapon. "Come, no nonsense," said he. "Door's guarded, street's guarded, +and I'm not to be trifled with." + +He then handed his pistol to the officer outside with an order, and, +stepping back suddenly, collared Messrs. Holland and Cheetham with one +movement, and, with a powerful rush, carried them out of the house in +his clutches. Meantime the policeman had whistled, there was a conflux +of bobbies, and the culprits were handcuffed and marched off to the Town +Hall. + +"Five years' penal servitude for that little lot," said Ransome. + +"And now, Mr. Bolt, I have answered your question to the best of my +ability." + +"You have answered it like a man. Will you do as much for us?" + +"I'll do my best. Let me examine the place now that none of them are +about." + +Bolt and Ransome went together, but Little went home: he had an anxiety +even more pressing, his mother's declining health. She had taken to +pining and fretting ever since Dr. Amboyne brought the bad news from +Cairnhope; and now, instead of soothing and consoling her son, she +needed those kind offices from him; and, I am happy to say, she received +them. He never spent an evening away from her. Unfortunately he did not +succeed in keeping up her spirits, and the sight of her lowered his own. + +At this period Grace Carden was unmixed comfort to him; she encouraged +him to encroach a little, and visit her twice a week instead of once, +and she coaxed him to confide all his troubles to her. He did so; he +concealed from his mother that he was at war with the trade again, but +he told Grace everything, and her tender sympathy was the balm of his +life. She used to put on cheerfulness for his sake, even when she felt +it least. + +One day, however, he found her less bright than usual, and she showed +him an advertisement--Bollinghope house and park for sale; and she was +not old enough nor wise enough to disguise from him that this pained +her. Some expressions of regret and pity fell from her; that annoyed +Henry, and he said, "What is that to us?" + +"Nothing to you: but I feel I am the cause. I have not used him well, +that's certain." + +Henry said, rather cavalierly, that Mr. Coventry was probably selling +his house for money, not for love, and (getting angry) that he hoped +never to hear the man's name mentioned again. + +Grace Carden was a little mortified by his tone, but she governed +herself and said sadly, "My idea of love was to be able to tell you +every thought of my heart, even where my conscience reproaches me a +little. But if you prefer to exclude one topic--and have no fear that it +may lead to the exclusion of others--" + +They were on the borders of a tiff; but Henry recovered himself and said +firmly, "I hope we shall not have a thought unshared one day; but, just +for the present, it will be kinder to spare me that one topic." + +"Very well, dearest," said Grace. "And, if it had not been for the +advertisement--" she said no more, and the thing passed like a dark +cloud between the lovers. + +Bollinghope house and park were actually sold that very week; they were +purchased, at more than their value, by a wealthy manufacturer: and +the proceeds of this sale and the timber cleared off all Coventry's +mortgages, and left him with a few hundred pounds in cash, and an estate +which had not a tree on it, but also had not a debt upon it. + +Of course he forfeited, by this stroke, his position as a country +gentleman; but that he did not care about, since it was all done with +one view, to live comfortably in Paris far from the intolerable sight of +his rival's happiness with the lady he loved. + +He bought in at the sale a few heirlooms and articles of furniture--who +does not cling, at the last moment, to something of this kind?--and +rented a couple of unfurnished rooms in Hillsborough to keep them in. +He fixed the day of his departure, arranged his goods, and packed his +clothes. Then he got a letter of credit on Paris, and went about the +town buying numerous articles of cutlery. + +But this last simple act led to strange consequences. He was seen and +followed; and in the dead of the evening, as he was cording with his own +hands a box containing a few valuables, a heavy step mounted the stair, +and there was a rude knock at the door. + +Mr. Coventry felt rather uncomfortable, but he said, "Come in." + +The door was opened, and there stood Sam Cole. + +Coventry received him ill. He looked up from his packing and said, "What +on earth do you want, sir?" + +But it was not Cole's business to be offended. "Well, sir," said he, +"I've been looking out for you some time, and I saw you at our place; so +I thought I'd come and tell you a bit o' news." + +"What is that?" + +"It is about him you know of; begins with a hel." + +"Curse him! I don't want to hear about him. I'm leaving the country. +Well, what is it?" + +"He is wrong with the trade again." + +"What is that to me?--Ah! sit down, Cole, and tell me." + +Cole let him know the case, and assured him that, sooner or later, if +threats did not prevail, the Union would go any length. + +"Should you be employed?" + +"If it was a dangerous job, they'd prefer me." + +Mr. Coventry looked at his trunks, and then at Sam Cole. A small voice +whispered "Fly." He stifled that warning voice, and told Cole he would +stay and watch this affair, and Cole was to report to him whenever any +thing fresh occurred. From that hour this gentleman led the life of a +malefactor, dressed like a workman, and never went out except at night. + +Messrs. Bolt and Little were rattened again, and never knew it till +morning. This time it was not the bands, but certain axle-nuts and +screws that vanished. The obnoxious machines came to a standstill, and +Bolt fumed and cursed. However, at ten o'clock, he and the foreman were +invited to the Town hall, and there they found the missing gear, and the +culprit, one of the very workmen employed at high wages on the obnoxious +machines. + +Ransome had bored a small hole in the ceiling, by means of which this +room was watched from above; the man was observed, followed, and nabbed. +The property found on him was identified and the magistrate offered the +prisoner a jury, which he declined; then the magistrate dealt with +the case summarily, refused to recognize rattening, called the offense +"petty larceny," and gave the man six months' prison. + +Now as Ransome, for obvious reasons, concealed the means by which this +man had been detected, a conviction so mysterious shook that sense of +security which ratteners had enjoyed for many years, and the trades +began to find that craft had entered the lists with craft. + +Unfortunately, those who directed the Saw-grinders' Union thought +the existence of the trade at stake, and this minor defeat merely +exasperated them. + +Little received a letter telling him he was acting worse than Brinsley, +who had been shot in the Briggate; and asking him, as a practical man, +which he thought was likely to die first, he or the Union? "You won't +let us live; why should we let you?" + +Bolt was threatened in similar style, but he merely handed the missives +to Ransome; he never flinched. + +Not so Little. He got nervous; and, in a weak moment, let his mother +worm out of him that he was at war with the trades again. + +This added anxiety to her grief, and she became worse every day. + +Then Dr. Amboyne interfered, and, after a certain degree of +fencing--which seems inseparable from the practice of medicine--told +Henry plainly he feared the very worst if this went on; Mrs. Little was +on the brink of jaundice. By his advice Henry took her to Aberystwith in +Wales, and, when he had settled her there, went back to his troubles. + +To those was now added a desolate home; gone was the noble face, the +maternal eye, the soothing voice, the unfathomable love. He never knew +all her value till now. + +One night, as he sat by himself sad and disconsolate, his servant came +to tell him there was a young woman inquiring for Mrs. Little. Henry +went out to her, and it was Jael Dence. He invited her in, and told +her what had happened. Jael saw his distress, and gave him her womanly +sympathy. "And I came to tell her my own trouble," said she; "fie on +me!" + +"Then tell it me, Jael. There, take off your shawl and sit down. They +shall make you a cup of tea." + +Jael complied, with a slight blush; but as to her trouble, she said it +was not worth speaking of in that house. + +Henry insisted, however, and she said, "Mine all comes of my sister +marrying that Phil Davis. To tell you the truth, I went to church with +a heavy heart on account of their both beginning with a D--Dence and +Davis; for 'tis an old saying-- + + "'If you change the name, and not the letter, + You change for the worse, and not for the better.' + +"Well, sir, it all went wrong somehow. Parson, he was South country; +and when his time came to kiss the bride, he stood and looked ever +so helpless, and I had to tell him he must kiss her; and even then he +stared foolish-like a bit before he kissed her, and the poor lass's face +getting up and the tear in her eye at being slighted. And that put Patty +out for one thing: and then she wouldn't give away the ribbon to the +fastest runner--the lads run a hundred yards to the bride, for ribbon +and kiss, you know;--wasn't the ribbon she grudged, poor wench; but the +fastest runner in Cairnhope town is that Will Gibbon, a nasty, ugly, +slobbering chap, that was always after her, and Philip jealous of him; +so she did for the best, and Will Gibbon safe to win it. But the village +lads they didn't see the reason, and took it all to themselves. Was she +better than their granddam? and were they worse than their grandsires? +They ran on before, and fired the anvil when she passed: just fancy! an +affront close to her own door: and, sir, she walked in a doors crying. +There was a wedding for you! George the blacksmith was that hurt at +their making free with his smithy to affront her, he lifted his arm +for the first time, and pretty near killed a couple of them, poor +thoughtless bodies. Well, sir, Phil Davis always took a drop, you know, +and, instead of mending, he got worse; they live with father, and of +course he has only to go to the barrel; old-fashioned farmers like us +don't think to spy on the ale. He was so often in liquor, I checked him; +but Patty indulged him in every thing. By-and-by my lord gets ever so +civil to me; 'What next?' said I to myself. One fine evening we are set +upstairs at our tea; in he comes drunk, and says many things we had to +look at one another and excuse. Presently he tells us all that he has +made a mistake; he has wedded Patty, and I'm the one he likes the best. +But I thought the fool was in jest; but Patty she gave a cry as if a +knife had gone through her heart. Then my blood got up in a moment. +'That's an affront to all three,' said I: 'and take your answer, ye +drunken sow,' said I. I took him by the scruff of the neck and just +turned him out of the room and sent him to the bottom of the stairs +headforemost. Then Patty she quarreled with me, and father he sided with +her. And so I gave them my blessing, and told them to send for me +in trouble; and I left the house I was born in. It all comes of her +changing her name, and not her letter." Here a few tears interrupted +further comment. + +Henry consoled her, and asked her what she was going to do. + +She said she did not know; but she had a good bit of money put by, and +was not afraid of work, and, in truth, she had come there to ask Mrs. +Little's advice, "poor lady. Now don't you mind me, Mr. Henry, your +trouble is a deal worse than mine." + +"Jael," said he, "you must come here and keep my house till my poor +mother is better." + +Jael colored and said, "Nay, that will not do. But if you could find +me something to do in your great factory--and I hear you have enemies +there; you might as well have a friend right in the middle of them. Eh, +but I'd keep my eyes and ears open for you." + +Henry appreciated this proposal, and said there were plenty of things +she could do; she could hone, she could pack, she could superintend, and +keep the girls from gabbling; "That," said he, "is the real thing that +keeps them behind the men at work." + +So Jael Dence lodged with a female cousin in Hillsborough, and filled +a position of trust in the factory of Bolt and Little: she packed, and +superintended, and the foreman paid her thirty shillings a week. The +first time this was tendered her she said severely, "Is this right, +young man?" meaning, "Is it not too much?" + +"Oh, you will be raised if you stay with us three months." + +"Raised?" said the virtuous rustic! Then, looking loftily round on the +other women, "What ever do these factory folk find to grumble at?" + +Henry told Grace all about this, and she said, rather eagerly, "Ah, I am +glad of that. You'll have a good watch-dog." + +It was a shrewd speech. The young woman soon found out that Little was +really in danger, and she was all eyes and ears, and no tongue. + +Yet neither her watchfulness, nor Ransome's, prevailed entirely against +the deviltries of the offended Union. Machinery was always breaking down +by pure accident; so everybody swore, and nobody believed: the water was +all let out of the boiler, and the boiler burst. Bands were no longer +taken but they were cut. And, in short, the works seemed to be under a +curse. + +And, lest the true origin of all these mishaps should be doubted, each +annoyance was followed by an anonymous letter. These were generally sent +to Little. A single sentence will indicate the general tone of each. + +1. "All these are but friendly warnings, to save your life if possible." + +2. "I never give in. I fight to death, and with more craft and duplicity +than Bolt and Ransome. They will never save you from me, if you persist. +Ask others whether I ever failed to keep my word." + +3. "If I but move my finger, you are sent into eternity." + +Henry Little's nerve began to give way more and more. + +Meantime Cole met Mr. Coventry, and told him what was going on +beneath the surface: at the same time he expressed his surprise at the +extraordinary forbearance shown by the Union. "Grotait is turning soft, +I think. He will not give the word to burn Sebastopol." + +"Then do it without him." + +Cole shook his head, and said he daren't. But, after some reflection, +he said there was a mate of his who was not so dependent on Grotait: he +might be tempted perhaps to do something on his own hook, Little being +wrong with the trade, and threatened. "How much would you stand?" + +"How far would your friend go?" + +"I'll ask him." + +Next day Cole walked coolly into the factory at dinner-time and had a +conversation with Hill, one of the workmen, who he knew was acting +for the Union, and a traitor in his employers' camp. He made Hill a +proposal. Hill said it was a very serious thing; he would think of it, +and meet him at a certain safe place and tell him. + +Cole strolled out of the works, but not unobserved. Jael Dence had +made it her business to know every man in the factory by sight, and +observing, from a window, a stranger in conversation with Hill, she came +down and met Cole at the gate. She started at sight of him: he did not +exactly recognize her; but, seeing danger in her eye, took to his heels, +and ran for it like a deer: but Jael called to some of the men to follow +him, but nobody moved. They guessed it was a Union matter. Jael ran to +Little, and told him that villain, who had escaped from Raby Hall, had +been in the works colloguing with one of the men. + +Ransome was sent for, and Cole described to him. + +As for Hill, Jael watched him like a cat from that hour, since a man +is known by his friends. She went so far as to follow him home every +evening. + +Cole got fifty pounds out of Coventry for Hill, and promised him twenty. +For this sum Hill agreed to do Little. But he demanded some time to +become proficient in the weapon he meant to use. + +During the interval events were not idle. A policeman saw a cutter and a +disguised gentleman talking together, and told Ransome. He set spies to +discover, if possible, what that might mean. + +One day the obnoxious machines were stopped by an ACCIDENT to the +machinery, and Little told Jael this, and said, "Have you a mind to earn +five pound a week?" + +"Ay, if I could do it honestly?" + +"Let us see the arm that flung Phil Davis down-stairs." + +Jael colored a little, but bared her left arm at command. + +"Good heavens!" cried Little. "What a limb! Why mine is a shrimp +compared with it." + +"Ay, mine has the bulk, but yours the pith." + +"Oh, come; if your left arm did that, what must your right be?" + +"Oh," said Jael, "you men do every thing with your right hand; but we +lasses know no odds. My left is as strong as my right, and both at your +service." + +"Then come along with me." + +He took her into the "Experiment Room," explained the machine to her, +gave her a lesson or two; and so simple was the business that she soon +mastered her part of it; and Little with his coat off, and Jael, with +her noble arms bare, ground long saws together secretly; and Little, +with Bolt's consent, charged the firm by the gross. He received +twenty-four pounds per week, out of which he paid Jael six, in spite +of her "How can a lass's work be worth all that?" and similar +remonstrances. + +Being now once more a workman, and working with this loyal lass so many +hours a day, his spirits rose a little, and his nerves began to recover +their tone. + +But meantime Hill was maturing his dark design. + +In going home, Little passed through one place he never much liked, it +was a longish close, with two sharp rectangular turns. + +Since he was threatened by the trade, he never entered this close +without looking behind him. He did not much fear an attack in front, +being always armed with pistols now. + +On a certain night he came to this place as usual, went as far as the +first turn, then looked sharply round to see if he was followed; but +there was nobody behind except a woman, who was just entering the court. +So he went on. + +But a little way down this close was a small public-house, and the +passage-door was ajar, and a man watching. No sooner was Little out of +sight than he emerged, and followed him swiftly on tiptoe. + +The man had in his hand a weapon that none but a Hillsborough cutler +would have thought of; yet, as usual, it was very fit for the purpose, +being noiseless and dangerous, though old-fashioned. It was a long +strong bow, all made of yew-tree. The man fitted an arrow to this, and +running lightly to the first turn, obtained a full view of Little's +retiring figure, not fifteen yards distant. + +So well was the place chosen, that he had only to discharge his weapon +and then run back. His victim could never see him. + +He took a deliberate aim at Little's back, drew the arrow to the head, +and was about to loose it, when a woman's arm was flung round his neck. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. + + +Coventry and Cole met that night near a little church. + +Hill was to join them, and tell them the result. + +Now, as it happens, Little went home rather late that night; so these +confederates waited, alternately hoping and fearing, a considerable +time. + +Presently, something mysterious occurred that gave them a chill. An +arrow descended, as if from the clouds, and stuck quivering on a grave +not ten yards from them. The black and white feathers shone clear in the +moonlight. + +To Coventry it seemed as if Heaven was retaliating on him. + +The more prosaic but quick-witted cutler, after the first stupefaction, +suspected it was the very arrow destined for Little, and said so. + +"And Heaven flings it back to us," said Coventry, and trembled in every +limb. + +"Heaven has naught to do in it. The fool has got drunk, and shot it in +the air. Anyway, it mustn't stick there to tell tales." + +Cole vaulted over the church-yard wall, drew it out of the grave, and +told Coventry to hide it. + +"Go you home," said he. "I'll find out what this means." + + +Hill's unexpected assailant dragged him back so suddenly and violently +that the arrow went up at an angle of forty-five, and, as the man loosed +the string to defend himself, flew up into the sky, and came down full a +hundred yards from the place. + +Hill twisted violently round and, dropping the bow, struck the woman in +the face with his fist; he had not room to use all his force; yet the +blow covered her face with blood. She cried out, but gripped him so +tight by both shoulders that he could not strike again but he kicked +her savagely. She screamed, but slipped her arms down and got him tight +round the waist. Then he was done for; with one mighty whirl she tore +him off his feet in a moment, then dashed herself and him under her to +the ground with such ponderous violence that his head rang loud on the +pavement and he was stunned for a few seconds. Ere he quite recovered +she had him turned on his face, and her weighty knee grinding down his +shoulders, while her nimble hands whipped off her kerchief and tied his +hands behind him in a twinkling. + +So quickly was it all done, that by the time Little heard the scrimmage, +ascertained it was behind him, and came back to see, she was seated on +her prisoner, trembling and crying after her athletic feat, and very +little fit to cope with the man if he had not been tied. + +Little took her by the hands. "Oh, my poor Jael! What is the matter? Has +the blackguard been insulting you?" And, not waiting for an answer, gave +him a kick that made him howl again. + +"Yes, kill him, the villain! he wanted to murder you. Oh, oh, oh!" + +She could say no more, but became hysterical. + +Henry supported her tenderly, and wiped the blood from her face; and as +several people came up, and a policeman, he gave the man in charge, on +Jael's authority, and he was conveyed to the station accordingly, he and +his bow. + +They took Jael Dence to a chemist's shop, and gave her cold water and +salts: the first thing she did, when she was quite herself, was to seize +Henry Little's hand and kiss it with such a look of joy as brought tears +into his eyes. + +Then she told her story, and was taken in a cab to the police-office, +and repeated her story there. + +Then Henry took her to Woodbine Villa, and Grace Carden turned very pale +at Henry's danger, though passed: she wept over Jael, and kissed her; +and nobody could make enough of her. + +Grace Carden looked wistfully at Henry and said, "Oh that I had a strong +arm to defend you!" + +"Oh, Miss Grace," said Jael, "don't you envy me. Go away with him from +this wicked, murdering place. That will be a deal better than any thing +I can do for him." + +"Ah, would to Heaven I could this minute!" said Grace, clinging tenderly +to his shoulder. She insisted on going home with him and sharing his +peril for once. + +Hill was locked up for the night. + +In the morning a paper was slipped into his hand. "Say there was no +arrow." + +He took this hint, and said that he was innocent as a babe of any harm. +He had got a bow to repair for a friend, and he went home twanging it, +was attacked by a woman, and, in his confusion, struck her once, but did +not repeat the blow. + +Per contra, Jael Dence distinctly swore there was an arrow, with two +white feathers and one black one, and that the prisoner was shooting at +Mr. Little. She also swore that she had seen him colloguing with another +man, who had been concerned in a former attempt on Mr. Little, and +captured, but had escaped from Raby Hall. + +On this the magistrate declined to discharge the prisoner; but, as no +arrow could be found at present, admitted him to bail, two securities +fifty pounds each, which was an indirect way of imprisoning him until +the Assizes. + +This attempt, though unsuccessful in one way, was very effective in +another. It shook Henry Little terribly; and the effect was enhanced +by an anonymous letter he received, reminding him there were plenty of +noiseless weapons. Brinsley had been shot twice, and no sound heard. +"When your time comes, you'll never know what hurt you." The sense of +a noiseless assassin eternally dogging him preyed on Little's mind +and spirits, and at last this life on the brink of the grave became so +intolerable that he resolved to leave Hillsborough, but not alone. + +He called on Grace Carden, pale and agitated. + +"Grace," said he, "do you really love me?" + +"Oh, Henry! Do I love you?" + +"Then save me from this horrible existence. Oh, my love, if you knew +what it is to have been a brave man, and to find your courage all oozing +away under freezing threats, that you know, by experience, will be +followed by some dark, subtle, bloody deed or other. There, they have +brought me down to this, that I never go ten steps without looking +behind me, and, when I go round a corner, I turn short and run back, and +wait at the corner to see if an assassin is following me. I tremble at +the wind. I start at my own shadow." + +Grace threw her arms round his neck, and stopped him with tears and +kisses. + +"Ah, bless you, my love!" he cried, and kissed her fondly. "You pity +me--you will save me from this miserable, degrading life?" + +"Ah, that I will, if I can, my own." + +"You can." + +"Then tell me how." + +"Be my wife--let us go to the United States together. Dearest, my +patents are a great success. We are making our fortune, though we risk +our lives. In America I could sell these inventions for a large sum, or +work them myself at an enormous profit. Be my wife, and let us fly this +hellish place together." + +"And so I would in a moment; but" (with a deep sigh) "papa would never +consent to that." + +"Dispense with his consent." + +"Oh, Henry; and marry under my father's curse!" + +"He could not curse you, if he love you half as well as I do; and if he +does not, why sacrifice me, and perhaps my life, to him?" + +"Henry, for pity's sake, think of some other way. Why this violent haste +to get rich? Have a little patience. Mr. Raby will not always be +abroad. Oh, pray give up Mr. Bolt, and go quietly on at peace with these +dreadful Trades. You know I'll wait all my life for you. I will implore +papa to let you visit me oftener. I will do all a faithful, loving girl +can do to comfort you." + +"Ay," said Henry, bitterly, "you will do anything but the one thing I +ask." + +"Yes, anything but defy my father. He is father and mother both to me. +How unfortunate we both are! If you knew what it costs me to deny you +anything, if you knew how I long to follow you round the world--" + +She choked with emotion, and seemed on the point of yielding, after all. + +But he said, bitterly, "You long to follow me round the world, and you +won't go a twelve-days' voyage with me to save my life. Ah, it is always +so. You don't love me as poor Jael Dence loves me. She saved my life +without my asking her; but you won't do it when I implore you." + +"Henry, my own darling, if any woman on earth loves you better than +I do, for God's sake marry her, and let me die to prove I loved you a +little." + +"Very well," said he, grinding his teeth. "Next week I leave this place +with a wife. I give you the first offer, because I love you. I shall +give Jael the second, because she loves me." + +So then he flung out of the room, and left Grace Carden half fainting on +the sofa, and drowned in tears. + +But before he got back to the works he repented his violence, and his +heart yearned for her more than ever. + +With that fine sense of justice which belongs to love, he spoke roughly +to Jael Dence. + +She stared, and said nothing, but watched him furtively, and saw his +eyes fill with tears at the picture memory recalled of Grace's pale face +and streaming eyes. + +She put a few shrewd questions, and his heart was so full he could not +conceal the main facts, though he suppressed all that bore reference +to Jael herself. She took Grace's part, and told him he was all in the +wrong; why could not he go to America alone, and sell his patents, and +then come back and marry Grace with the money? "Why drag her across the +water, to make her quarrel with her father?" + +"Why, indeed?" said Henry: "because I'm not the man I was. I have no +manhood left. I have not the courage to fight the Trades, nor yet the +courage to leave the girl I love so dearly." + +"Eh, poor lad," said Jael, "thou hast courage enough; but it has been +too sore tried, first and last. You have gone through enough to break a +man of steel." + +She advised him to go and make his submission at once. + +He told her she was his guardian angel, and kissed her, in the warmth +of his gratitude; and he went back to Woodbine Villa, and asked Grace's +forgiveness, and said he would go alone to the States and come back with +plenty of money to satisfy Mr. Carden's prudence, and-- + +Grace clutched him gently with both hands, as if to hinder from leaving +her. She turned very pale, and said, "Oh my heart!" + +Then she laid her head on his shoulder, and wept piteously. + +He comforted her, and said, "What is it? a voyage of twelve days! And +yet I shall never have the courage to bid you good-by." + +"Nor I you, my own darling." + + +Having come to this resolution, he was now seized with a fear that he +would be assassinated before he could carry it out; to diminish the +chances, he took up his quarters at the factory, and never went out at +night. Attached to the works was a small building near the water-side. +Jael Dence occupied the second floor of it. He had a camp-bed set up on +the first floor, and established a wire communication with the police +office. At the slightest alarm he could ring a bell in Ransome's ear. He +also clandestinely unscrewed a little postern door that his predecessors +had closed, and made a key to the lock, so that if he should ever +be compelled to go out at night he might baffle his foes, who would +naturally watch the great gate for his exit. + +With all this he became very depressed and moody, and alarmed Doctor +Amboyne, who remembered his father's end. + +The doctor advised him to go and see his mother for a day or two; but he +shook his head, and declined. + +A prisoner detained for want of bail is allowed to communicate with his +friends, and Grotait soon let Hill know he was very angry with him for +undertaking to do Little without orders. Hill said that the job was +given him by Cole, who was Grotait's right-hand man, and Grotait had +better bail him, otherwise he might be induced to tell tales. + +Grotait let him stay in prison three days, and then sent two +householders with the bail. + +Hill was discharged, and went home. At dusk he turned out to find Cole, +and tracing him from one public-house to another, at last lighted on him +in company with Mr. Coventry. + +This set him thinking; however, he held aloof till they parted; and then +following Cole, dunned him for his twenty pounds. + +Cole gave him five pounds on account. Hill grumbled, and threatened. + +Grotait sent for both men, and went into a passion, and threatened to +hang them both if they presumed to attack Little's person again in any +way. "It is the place I mean to destroy," said Grotait, "not the man." + +Cole conveyed this to Coventry, and it discouraged him mightily, and he +told Cole he should give it up and go abroad. + +But soon after this some pressure or other was brought to bear on +Grotait, and Cole, knowing this, went to him, and asked him whether Bolt +and Little were to be done or not. + +"It is a painful subject," said Grotait. + +"It is a matter of life and death to us," said Cole. + +"That is true. But mind--the place, and not the man." Cole assented, and +then Grotait took him on to a certain bridge, and pointed out the +one weak side of Bob and Little's fortress, and showed him how the +engine-chimney could be got at and blown down, and so the works stopped +entirely: "And I'll tell you something," said he; "that chimney is built +on a bad foundation, and was never very safe; so you have every chance." + +Then they chaffered about the price, and at last Grotait agreed to give +him L20. + +Cole went to Coventry, and told how far Grotait would allow him to go: +"But," said he, "L20 is not enough. I run an even chance of being hung +or lagged." + +"Go a step beyond your instructions, and I'll give you a hundred +pounds." + +"I daren't," said Cole: "unless there was a chance to blow up the place +with the man in it." Then, after a moment's reflection, he said: "I hear +he sleeps in the works. I must find out where." + +Accordingly, he talked over one of the women in the factory, and gained +the following information, which he imparted to Mr. Coventry: + +Little lived and slept in a detached building recently erected, and +the young woman who had overpowered Hill slept in a room above him. She +passed in the works for his sweetheart, and the pair were often locked +up together for hours at a time in a room called the "Experiment Room." + +This information took Coventry quite by surprise, and imbittered his +hatred of Little. While Cole was felicitating him on the situation of +the building, he was meditating how to deal his hated rival a stab of +another kind. + +Cole, however, was single-minded in the matter; and the next day he took +a boat and drifted slowly down the river, and scanned the place very +carefully. + +He came at night to Coventry, and told him he thought he might perhaps +be able to do the trick without seeming to defy Grotait's instructions. +"But," said he, "it is a very dangerous job. Premises are watched: and, +what do you think? they have got wires up now that run over the street +to the police office, and Little can ring a bell in Ransome's room, and +bring the bobbies across with a rush in a moment. It isn't as it was +under the old chief constable; this one's not to be bought nor blinded. +I must risk a halter." + +"You shall have fifty pounds more." + +"You are a gentleman, sir. I should like to have it in hard sovereigns. +I'm afraid of notes. They get traced somehow." + +"You shall have it all in sovereigns." + +"I want a little in advance, to buy the materials. They are costly, +especially the fulminating silver." + +Coventry gave him ten sovereigns, and they parted with the understanding +that Cole should endeavor to blow up the premises on some night when +Little was in them, and special arrangements were made to secure this. + + +Henry Little and Grace Carden received each of them, an anonymous +letter, on the same day. + +Grace Carden's ran thus:-- + + +"I can't abide to see a young lady made a fool of by a villain. Mr. +Little have got his miss here: they dote on each other. She lives in the +works, and so do he, ever since she came, which he usen't afore. They +are in one room, as many as eight hours at a stretch, and that room +always locked. It is the talk of all the girls. It is nought to me, but +I thought it right you should know, for it is quite a scandal. She is a +strapping country lass, with a queerish name. This comes from a strange, +but a well-wisher. + +"FAIR PLAY." + + +The letter to Henry Little was as follows:-- + + +"The reason of so many warnings and ne'er a blow, you had friends in the +trade. But you have worn them out. You are a doomed man. Prepare to meet +your God. + +"[Drawing of coffin.]" + + +This was the last straw on the camel's back, as the saying is. + +He just ground it in his hand, and then he began to act. + +He set to work, packed up models, and dispatched them by train; clothes +ditto, and wrote a long letter to his mother. + +Next day he was busy writing and arranging papers till the afternoon. +Then he called on Grace, as related, and returned to the works about six +o'clock: he ordered a cup of tea at seven, which Jael brought him. She +found him busy writing letters, and one of these was addressed to Grace +Carden. + +That was all she saw of him that night; for she went to bed early, and +she was a sound sleeper. + +It was nine o'clock of this same evening. + +Mr. Coventry, disguised in a beard, was walking up and down a certain +street opposite the great door of the works. + +He had already walked and lounged about two hours. At last Cole joined +him for a moment and whispered in a tone full of meaning, "Will it do +now?" + +Coventry's teeth chattered together as he replied, "Yes; now is the +time." + +"Got the money ready?" + +"Yes." + +"Let us see it." + +"When you have done what you promised me." + +"That very moment?" + +"That very moment." + +"Then I'll tell you what you must do. In about an hour go on the new +bridge, and I'll come to you; and, before I've come to you many minutes, +you'll see summut and hear summut that will make a noise in Hillsbro', +and, perhaps, get us both into trouble." + +"Not if you are as dexterous as others have been." + +"Others! I was in all those jobs. But this is the queerest. I go to it +as if I was going to a halter. No matter, a man can but die once." + +And, with these words, he left him and went softly down to the +water-side. There, in the shadow of the new bridge, lay a little boat, +and in it a light-jointed ladder, a small hamper, and a basket of tools. +The rowlocks were covered with tow, and the oars made no noise whatever, +except the scarce audible dip in the dark stream. It soon emerged below +the bridge like a black spider crawling down the stream, and melted out +of sight the more rapidly that a slight fog was rising. + +Cole rowed softly past the works, and observed a very faint light +in Little's room. He thought it prudent to wait till this should be +extinguished, but it was not extinguished. Here was an unexpected delay. + +However, the fog thickened a little, and this encouraged him to venture; +he beached the boat very gently on the muddy shore, and began his work, +looking up every now and then at that pale light, and ready to fly at +the first alarm. + +He took out of the boat a large varnish-can, which he had filled +with gunpowder, and wrapped tightly round with wire, and also with +a sash-line; this can was perforated at the side, and a strong tube +screwed tightly into it; the tube protruded twelve inches from the can +in shape of an S: by means of this a slow-burning fuse was connected +with the powder; some yards of this fuse were wrapt loosely round the +can. + +Cole crept softly to the engine-chimney, and, groping about for the +right place, laid the can in the engine bottom and uncoiled the fuse. He +took out of his pocket some small pieces of tile, and laid the fuse dry +on these. + +Then he gave a sigh of relief, and crept back to the boat. + +Horrible as the action was, he had done all this without much fear, and +with no remorse, for he was used to this sort of work; but now he had +to commit a new crime, and with new and terrible materials, which he had +never handled in the way of crime before. + +He had in his boat a substance so dangerous that he had made a nest of +soft cotton for the receptacle which held it; and when the boat touched +the shore, light as the contact was, he quaked lest his imprisoned +giant-devil should go off and blow him to atoms. + +He put off touching it till the last moment. He got his jointed ladder, +set it very softly underneath the window where the feeble gas-light was, +and felt about with his hands for the grating he had observed when he +first reconnoitered the premises from the river. He found it, but it was +so high that he had to reach a little, and the position was awkward for +working. + +The problem was how to remove one of those bars, and so admit his +infernal machine; it was about the shape and size of an ostrich's egg. + +It must be done without noise, for the room above him was Little's, and +Little, he knew, had a wire by means of which he could summon Ransome +and the police in the turn of a hand. + +The cold of the night, and the now present danger, made Cole shiver all +over, and he paused. + +But he began again, and, taking out a fine steel saw highly tempered, +proceeded to saw the iron slowly and gently, ready at the first alarm to +spring from his ladder and run away. + +With all his caution, steel grated against steel, and made too much +noise in the stilly night. He desisted. He felt about, and found the +grating was let into wood, not stone; he oiled the saw, and it cut the +wood like butter; he made two cuts like a capital V, and a bar of the +grating came loose; he did the same thing above, and the bar came out. + +Cole now descended the ladder, and prepared for the greatest danger of +all. He took from its receptacle the little metal box lined with glazed +paper, which contained the fulminating silver and its fuse; and, holding +it as gently as possible, went and mounted the ladder again, putting his +foot down as softly as a cat. + +But he was getting colder and colder, and at this unfortunate moment +he remembered that, when he was a lad, a man had been destroyed by +fulminating silver--quite a small quantity--in a plate over which he was +leaning; yet the poor wretch's limbs had been found in different places, +and he himself had seen the head; it had been torn from the trunk and +hurled to an incredible distance. + +That trunkless head he now fancied he saw, in the middle of the fog; and +his body began to sweat cold, and his hands to shake so that he could +hardly told the box. But if he let it fall-- + +He came hastily down the ladder and sat down on the dirty ground, with +the infernal engine beside him. + +By-and-by he got up and tried to warm his hands and feet by motion, and +at last he recovered his fortitude, and went softly and cat-like up the +steps again, in spite of the various dangers he incurred. + +Of what was this man's mind composed, whom neither a mere bribe could +buy to do this deed, nor pure fanaticism without a bribe; but, where +both inducements met, neither the risk of immediate death, nor of +imprisonment for life, nor both dangers united, could divert him from +his deadly purpose, though his limbs shook, and his body was bedewed +with a cold perspiration? + +He reached the top of the ladder, he put his hand inside the grate; +there was an aperture, but he could not find the bottom. He hesitated. + +Here was a fresh danger: if he let the box fall it might explode at once +and send him to eternity. + +Once more he came softly down, and collected all the tow and wool he +could find. He went up the ladder and put these things through the +grating; they formed a bed. + +Then he went back for the fatal box, took it up the ladder with beating +heart, laid it softly in its bed, uncoiled the fuse and let it hang +down. + +So now these two fiendish things were placed, and their devilish tails +hanging out behind them. The fuses had been cut with the utmost nicety +to burn the same length of time--twelve minutes. + +But Cole was too thoughtful and wary to light the fuses until everything +was prepared for his escape. He put the ladder on board the boat, +disposed the oars so that he could use them at once; then crept to the +engine-chimney, kneeled down beside the fuse, looked up at the faint +light glimmering above, and took off his hat. + +With singular cunning and forethought he had pasted a piece of sandpaper +into his hat. By this means he lighted a lucifer at once, and kept it +out of sight from the windows, and also safe from the weather; he drew +the end of the fuse into the hat, applied the match to it out of sight, +then blew the match out and darted to his other infernal machine. In +less than ten seconds he lighted that fuse too; then stepped into the +boat, and left those two devilish sparks creeping each on its fatal +errand. He pulled away with exulting bosom, beating heart, and creeping +flesh. He pulled swiftly up stream, landed at the bridge, staggered up +the steps, and found Coventry at his post, but almost frozen, and sick +of waiting. + +He staggered up to him and gasped out, "I've done the trick, give me the +brass, and let me go. I see a halter in the air." His teeth chattered. + +But Coventry, after hoping and fearing for two hours and a half, had +lost all confidence in his associate, and he said, "How am I to know +you've done anything?" + +"You'll see and you'll hear," said Cole. "Give me the brass." + +"Wait till I see and hear," was the reply. + +"What, wait to be nabbed? Another minute, and all the town will be out +after me. Give it me, or I'll take it." + +"Will you?" And Coventry took out a pistol and cocked it. Cole recoiled. + +"Look here," said Coventry; "there are one hundred and fifty sovereigns +in this bag. The moment I receive proof you have not deceived me, I give +you the bag." + +"Here, where we stand?" + +"Here, on this spot." + +"Hush! not so loud. Didn't I hear a step?" + +They both listened keenly. The fog was thick by this time. + +Cole whispered, "Look down the river. I wonder which will go off first? +It is very cold; very." And he shook like a man in an ague. + +Both men listened, numbed with cold, and quivering with the expectation +of crime. + +A clock struck twelve. + +At the first stroke the confederates started and uttered a cry. They +were in that state when everything sudden shakes men like thunder. + +All still again, and they listened and shook again with fog and grime. + +Sudden a lurid flash, and a report, dull and heavy, and something tall +seemed to lean toward them from the sky, and there was a mighty rushing +sound, and a cold wind in their faces, and an awful fall of masonry on +the water, and the water spurted under the stroke. The great chimney had +fallen in the river. At this very moment came a sharp, tremendous report +like a clap of thunder close at hand. It was so awful, that both bag and +pistol fell out of Coventry's hand and rung upon the pavement, and he +fled, terror-stricken. + +Cole, though frightened, went down on his knees, and got the bag, and +started to run the other way. + +But almost at the first step he ran against a man, who was running +toward him. + +Both were staggered by the shock, and almost knocked down. + +But the man recovered himself first, and seized Cole with a grip of +iron. + + +When Coventry had run a few steps he recovered his judgment so far as +to recollect that this would lay him open to suspicion. He left off +running, and walked briskly instead. + +Presently the great door of the works was opened, and the porter +appeared crying wildly for help, and that the place was on fire. + +The few people that were about made a rush, and Coventry, driven by an +awful curiosity, went in with them; for why should he be suspected any +more than they? + +He had not gone in half a minute when Mr. Ransome arrived with several +policemen, and closed the doors at once against all comers. + +Strange to say, the last explosion had rung the bell in the +police-office; hence this prompt appearance of the police. + +The five or six persons who got in with Coventry knew nothing, and +ran hither and thither. Coventry, better informed, darted at once to +Little's quarters, and there beheld an awful sight; the roof presented +the appearance of a sieve: of the second floor little remained but a +few of the joists, and these were most of them broken and stood on and +across each other, like a hedgehog's bristles. + +In Little's room, a single beam in the center, with a fragment of board, +kept its place, but the joists were all dislocated or broken in two, and +sticking up here and there in all directions: huge holes had been blown +in the walls of both rooms and much of the contents of the rooms blown +out by them; so vast were these apertures, that it seemed wonderful how +the structure hung together; the fog was as thick in the dismembered +and torn building as outside, but a large gas-pipe in Little's room was +wrenched into the form of a snake and broken, and the gas set on fire +and flaring, so that the devastation was visible; the fireplace also +hung on, heaven knows how. + +Coventry cast his eyes round, and recoiled with horror at what he had +done: his foot struck something; it was the letter-box, full of letters, +still attached to the broken door. By some instinct of curiosity he +stooped and peered. There was one letter addressed "Grace Carden." + +He tried to open the box: he could not: he gave it a wrench, it was +a latticed box, and came to pieces. He went down the stairs with the +fragments and the letters in his hand; feet approached, and he heard a +voice close to him say, "This way, Mr. Ransome, for God's sake!" A sort +of panic seized him; he ran back, and in his desperation jumped on to +the one beam that was standing, and from that through the open wall, and +fell on the soft mud by the river bank. Though the ground was soft, +the descent shook him and imbedded him so deeply he could not extricate +himself for some time. But terror lends energy, and he was now +thoroughly terrified: he thrust the letters in his pocket, and, being an +excellent swimmer, dashed at once into the river; but he soon found it +choked up with masonry and debris of every kind: he coasted this, got +into the stream, and swam across to the other side. Then taking the +lowest and darkest streets, contrived at last to get home, wet and +filthy, and quaking. + +Ransome and his men examined the shattered building within and without; +but no trace could be found of any human being, alive or dead. + +Then they got to the river-side with lights, and here they found +foot-marks. Ransome set men to guard these from being walked over. + +Attention was soon diverted from these. Several yards from the torn +building, a woman was found lying all huddled together on a heap of +broken masonry. She was in her night-dress, and a counterpane half over +her. Her forehead and head were bleeding, and she was quite insensible. +The police recognized her directly. It was Jael Dence. + +She was alive, though insensible, and Ransome had her conveyed at once +to the infirmary. + +"Bring more lights to the water-side," said he: "the explosion has acted +in that direction." + +Many torches were brought. Keen eyes scanned the water. One or two +policemen got out upon the ruins of the chimney, and went ankle-deep in +water. But what they sought could not be found. Ransome said he was glad +of it. Everybody knew what he meant. + +He went back to Little's room, and examined it minutely. In the passage +he found a card-case. It was lying on the door. Ransome took it up +mechanically, and put it in his pocket. He did not examine it at this +time: he took for granted it was Little's. He asked one of his men +whether a man had not been seen in that room. The officer said, "Yes." + +"Did he come down?" + +"No; and I can't think how he got out." + +"It is plain how he got out; and that accounts for something I observed +in the mud. Now, Williams, you go to my place for that stuff I use to +take the mold of footprints. Bring plenty. Four of you scour the town, +and try and find out who has gone home with river-mud on his shoes or +trousers. Send me the porter." + +When the porter came, he asked him whether Mr. Little had slept in the +works. + +The porter could not say for certain. + +"Well, but what was his habit?" + +"He always slept here of late." + +"Where did you see him last?" + +"I let him into the works." + +"When?" + +"I should think about seven o'clock." + +"Did you let him out again?" + +"No, Mr. Ransome." + +"Perhaps you might, and not recollect. Pray think." + +The porter shook his head. + +"Are you sure you did not let him out?" + +"I am quite sure of that." + +"Then the Lord have mercy on his soul!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. + + +That was Grace Carden's first anonymous letter. Its contents curdled +her veins with poison. The poor girl sat pale and benumbed, turning the +letter in her hand, and reading the fatal words over and over again. + +There was a time when she would have entirely disbelieved this slander; +but now she remembered, with dismay, how many things had combined to +attach Henry to Jael Dence. And then the letter stated such hard facts; +facts unknown to her, but advanced positively. + +But what terrified her most was that Henry had so lately told her Jael +Dence loved him best. + +Yet her tossed and tortured mind laid hold of this comfort, that not the +man only, but the woman too, were loyal, faithful spirits. Could they +both have changed? Appearances are deceitful, and might have deceived +this anonymous writer. + +After hours of mere suffering, she began to ask herself what she should +do? + +Her first feminine impulse was to try and find out the truth without +Henry's aid. + +But no; on second thoughts she would be open and loyal, show Henry the +letter, and ask him to tell her how much truth, if any, there was in it. + +The agony she endured was a lesson to her. Now she knew what jealousy +was; and saw at once she could not endure its torments. She thought to +herself he was quite right to make her dismiss Mr. Coventry, and he must +dismiss Jael; she should insist on it. + +This resolution formed, she lived on thorns, awaiting Henry Little's +next visit. + +He came next day, but she was out. + +She asked the servant if he had said anything. + +The servant said, "He seemed a good deal put out at first, miss, but +afterward he said, 'No, it was all for the best.'" + +This was another blow. Grace connected these words of Henry in some +mysterious way with the anonymous letter, and spent the night crying: +but in the morning, being a brave, high-spirited girl, she resolved to +take a direct course; she would go down to the works, and request an +explanation on the premises. She would see the room where Henry was said +to pass so many hours with Jael, and she would show him that the man she +loved, and lived for, must place himself above suspicion, or lose her +forever. "And if he quarrels with me for that," she thought, "why, I +can die." She actually carried out her resolution, and went early next +morning to the works to demand an explanation. She took the letter with +her. As she went along she discussed in her own mind how she should +proceed, and at last she resolved to just hand him the letter and fix +her eye on him. His face would tell her the truth. + +She drove up to the great gate; there were a good many people about, +talking, in excited groups. + +The porter came out to her. She said she wished to see Mr. Little. + +The porter stared: the people within hearing left off talking, and +stared too, at her, and then at one another. + +At last the porter found his voice. "Mr. Little! why, we can't find him +anywhere, dead or alive." + +Just then Ransome came out, and, seeing Miss Carden, gave a start, and +looked much concerned. + +Grace noticed this look, and her own face began to fill with surprise, +and then with alarm. "Not to be found!" she faltered. + +She did not know Mr. Ransome, but he knew her; and he came to the +carriage-window and said, in a low voice, "Miss Carden, I am the +chief-constable. I would advise you to return home. The fact is, there +has been an explosion here, and a young woman nearly killed." + +"Poor creature! But Mr. Little! Oh, sir! Oh, sir!" + +"We can't find him," said Ransome, solemnly: "and we fear--we sadly +fear--" + +Grace uttered a low cry, and then sat trembling. + +Ransome tried to console her; said it was just possible he might have +not slept in the works. + +The porter shook his head. + +Grace sprung from the carriage. "Show me the place," said she, hoarsely. + +Ransome demurred. "It is an ugly sight for any one to see." + +"Who has a better right to see it than I? I shall find him if he is +there. Give me your arm: I have heard him speak of you." + +Then Ransome yielded reluctantly, and took her to the place. + +He showed her Henry's room, all rent and mutilated. + +She shuddered, and, covering her face with her hands, leaned half +fainting against her conductor; but soon she shook this off, and became +inspired with strange energy, though her face was like marble. + +She drew him, indeed almost dragged him, hither and thither, questioning +him, and listening to everybody's conjectures; for there were loud +groups here of work-people and towns-people. + +Some thought he was buried under the great chimney in the river, others +intimated plainly their fear that he was blown to atoms. + +At each suggestion Grace Carden's whole body winced and quivered as if +the words were sword cuts, but she would not be persuaded to retire. +"No, no," she cried, "amongst so many, some one will guess right. I'll +hear all they think, if I die on the spot: die! What is life to me +now? Ah! what is that woman saying?" And she hurried Ransome toward a +work-woman who was haranguing several of her comrades. + +The woman saw Ransome coming toward her with a strange lady. + +"Ah!" said she, "here's the constable. Mr. Ransome, will ye tell me +where you found the lass, yesternight?" + +"She was lying on that heap of bricks: I marked the place with two +pieces of chalk; ay, here they are; her head lay here, and her feet +here." + +"Well, then," said the woman, "he will not be far from that place. You +clear away those bricks and rubbish, and you will find him underneath. +She was his sweetheart, that is well known here; and he was safe to be +beside her when the place was blown up." + +"No such thing," said Ransome, angrily, and casting a side-look at +Grace. "She lay on the second floor, and Mr. Little on the first floor." + +"Thou simple body," said the woman. "What's a stair to a young man when +a bonny lass lies awaiting him, and not a soul about? They were a deal +too close together all day, to be distant at night." + +A murmur of assent burst at once from all the women. + +Grace's body winced and quivered, but her marble face never stirred, nor +did her lips utter a sound. + +"Come away from their scandalous tongues," said Ransome, eagerly. + +"No," said Grace; and such a "No." It was like a statue uttering a chip +of its own marble. + +Then she stood quivering a moment; then, leaving Ransome's arm, she +darted up to the place where Jael Dence had been found. + +She stood like a bird on the broken masonry, and opened her beautiful +eyes in a strange way, and demanded of all her senses whether the body +of him she loved lay beneath her feet. + +After a minute, during which every eye was riveted on her, she said, "I +don't believe it; I don't feel him near me. But I will know." + +She took out her purse full of gold, and held it up to the women. "This +for you, if you will help me." Then, kneeling down, she began to tear +up the bricks and throw them, one after another, as far as her strength +permitted. The effect on the work-women was electrical: they swarmed +on the broken masonry, and began to clear it away brick by brick. They +worked with sympathetic fury, led by this fair creature, whose white +hands were soon soiled and bloody, but never tired. In less than an hour +they had cleared away several wagon-loads of debris. + +The body of Henry Little was not there. + +Grace gave her purse to the women, and leaned heavily on Mr. Ransome's +arm again. He supported her out of the works. + +As soon as they were alone, she said, "Is Jael Dence alive or dead?" + +"She was alive half an hour ago." + +"Where is she?" + +"At the hospital." + +"Take me to the hospital." + +He took her to the hospital, and soon they stood beside a clean little +bed, in which lay the white but still comely face of Jael Dence: +her luxuriant hair was cut close, and her head bandaged; but for her +majestic form, she looked a fair, dying boy. + +"Stand back," said Grace, "and let me speak to her." Then she leaned +over Jael, where she lay. + +Gentle women are not all gentleness. Watch them, especially in contact +with their own sex, and you shall see now and then a trait of the wild +animal. Grace Carden at this moment was any thing but dove-like; it was +more like a falcon the way she clutched the bedclothes, and towered over +that prostrate figure, and then, descending slowly nearer and nearer, +plunged her eyes into those fixed and staring orbs of Jael Dence. + +So she remained riveted. Had Jael been conscious, and culpable, nothing +could have escaped a scrutiny so penetrating. + +Even unconscious as she was, Jael's brain and body began to show some +signs they were not quite impervious to the strange magnetic power which +besieged them so closely. When Grace's eyes had been close to hers about +a minute, Jael Dence moved her head slightly to the left, as if those +eyes scorched her. + +But Grace moved her own head to the right, rapid as a snake, and fixed +her again directly. + +Jael Dence's bosom gave a heave. + +"Where--is--Henry Little?" said Grace, still holding her tight by the +eye, and speaking very slowly, and in such a tone, low, but solemn and +commanding; a tone that compelled reply. + +"Where--is--Henry Little?" + +When this was so repeated, Jael moved a little, and her lips began to +quiver. + +"Where--is--Henry Little?" + +Jael's lips opened feebly, and some inarticulate sounds issued from +them. + +"Where--is--Henry Little?" + +Jael Dence, though unconscious, writhed and moaned so that the head +nurse interfered, and said she could not have the patient tormented. + +Ransome waved her aside, but taking Grace Carden's hand drew her gently +away. + +She made no positive resistance; but, while her body yielded and +retired, her eye remained riveted on Jael Dence, and her hand clutched +the air like a hawk's talons, unwilling to lose her prey, and then she +turned so weak, Ransome had to support her to her carriage. + +As Grace's head sunk on Ransome's shoulder, Jael Dence's eyes closed for +the first time. + + +As Ransome was lifting Grace Carden into the carriage, she said, in a +sort of sleepy voice, "Is there no way out of these works but one?" + +"Not that I know of; but I will go at once and see. Shall he drive you +home?" + +"Yes. No--to Dr. Amboyne." + +Dr. Amboyne was gone to Woodbine Villa. + +She waited in his study, moving about the room all the time, with her +face of marble, and her poor restless hands. + +At last the doctor returned: they told him at the door Miss Carden was +there; he came in to her with both hands extended, and his face working +with emotion. + +She fell sobbing into his arms; sobbing, but not a tear. + +"Is there any hope?" + +"I have one. May he not have left the country in a fit of despair? He +often threatened. He talked of going to the United States." + +"So he did. Ah, he called on me yesterday afternoon. Might not that have +been to bid me good-by?" + +She looked so imploringly in Dr. Amboyne's face that he assented, though +full of doubt. + +And now there was a ring at the bell, and Mr. Ransome came to say there +was a little postern gate by which Mr. Little might possibly have gone +out and the porter not seen him; and, what was more, this gate, by all +accounts, had been recently opened: it was closed before Bolt and Little +took the premises. + +Mr. Ransome added that he should now make it his business to learn, if +possible, whether it had been opened by Mr. Little's orders. + +Grace thanked him earnestly, and looked hopeful; so did Dr. Amboyne. + +"But, doctor," said Grace, "if he has gone away at all, he must have +told somebody. Even if there was nobody he loved, he would tell--ah! Mr. +Bolt!!" + +"You are right. Let us go to him at once." + +They found Mr. Bolt in quite a different frame of mind from their own; +he was breathing vengeance. However, he showed some feeling for Grace, +and told the doctor plainly he feared the worst. Little had been +downhearted for some time, and at last he (Bolt) had lost patience with +him, and had proposed to him to take an annual payment of nine hundred +pounds instead of a share, and leave the concern. Little had asked two +days to consider this proposal. "Now," argued Bolt, "if he meant to +leave England, he could not do better than take my offer: and he would +have taken it before he left. He would have called, or else sent me a +letter. But no; not a word! It's a bad job: I'm fond of money, but I'd +give a few thousands to see him alive again. But I don't think I ever +shall. There are five hundred thousand bricks of ours in that river, and +a foot and a half of mud." + +While they were both shuddering at this dark allusion, he went off into +idle threats, and Grace left him, sick and cold, and clinging to Dr. +Amboyne like a drowning woman. + +"Have courage," said Dr. Amboyne. "There is one chance left us. His +mother! I will telegraph to Aberystwith." + +They drove together to the telegraph-office, and sent a telegram. The +doctor would not consent to frighten Mrs. Little to death. He simply +asked whether her son had just visited or written to her. The answer was +paid for; but four hours elapsed, and no answer came. + +Then Grace implored the doctor to go with her to Aberystwith. He looked +grave, and said she was undertaking too much. She replied, almost +fiercely, that she must do all that could be done, or she should go mad. + +"But your father, my dear!" + +"He is in London. I will tell him all when he returns. He would let me +go anywhere with you. I must go; I will!" + +At four o'clock they were in the train. They spoke to each other but +little on the way; their hearts were too full of dire forebodings to +talk about nothings. But, when they were in the fly at Aberystwith, +going from the station to Mrs. Little's lodgings, Grace laid her head on +her friend's shoulder and said, "Oh, doctor, it has come to this; I hope +he loved his mother better than me." Then came a flood of tears--the +first. + +They went to Mrs. Little's lodgings. The landlady had retired to bed, +and, on hearing their errand, told them, out of the second-floor window, +that Mrs. Little had left her some days ago, and gone to a neighboring +village for change of air. + +Grace and Dr. Amboyne drove next morning to that village, and soon +learned where Mrs. Little was. Dr. Amboyne left Grace at the inn, for he +knew the sight of her would at once alarm Mrs. Little; and in a matter +so uncertain as this, he thought the greatest caution necessary. Grace +waited for him at the inn in an agony of suspense. She watched at the +window for him, and at last she saw him coming toward her. His head +was down, and she could not read his face, or she could have told in a +moment whether he brought good news or bad. + +She waited for him, erect but trembling. He opened the door, and stood +before her, pale and agitated--so pale and agitated she had never seen +him before. + +He faltered out, "She knows nothing. She must know nothing. She is too +ill and weak, and, indeed, in such a condition that to tell her the +fatal news would probably have killed her on the spot. All I dared do +was to ask her with assumed indifference if she had heard from Henry +lately. No, Grace, not for these three days." + +He sat down and groaned aloud. + +"You love the son," said he, "but I love the mother: loved her years +before you were born." + +At this unexpected revelation Grace Carden kissed him, and wept on his +shoulder. Then they went sadly home again. + +Doctor Amboyne now gave up all hopes of Henry, and his anxiety was +concentrated on Mrs. Little. How on earth was he to save her from a +shock likely to prove fatal in her weak condition? To bring her to +Hillsborough in her present state would be fatal. He was compelled to +leave her in Wales, and that looked so like abandoning her. He suffered +torture, the torture that only noble minds can know. At midnight, as he +lay in bed, and revolved in his mind all the difficulties and perils of +this pitiable situation, an idea struck him. He would try and persuade +Mrs. Little to marry him. Should she consent, he could then take her +on a wedding-tour, and that tour he could easily extend from place to +place, putting off the evil time until, strong in health and conjugal +affection, she might be able to endure the terrible, the inevitable +blow. The very next morning he wrote her an eloquent letter; he told her +that Henry had gone suddenly off to Australia to sell his patents; that +almost his last word had been, "My mother! I leave her to you." This, +said the doctor, is a sacred commission; and how can I execute it? I +cannot invite you to Hillsborough, for the air is fatal to you. Think of +your half-promise, and my many years of devotion, and give me the right +to carry out your son's wishes to the full. + +Mrs. Little replied to this letter, and the result of the correspondence +was this: she said she would marry him if she could recover her health, +but THAT she feared she never should until she was reconciled to her +brother. + +Meantime Grace Carden fell into a strange state: fits of feverish +energy; fits of death-like stupor. She could do nothing, yet it maddened +her to be idle. With Bolt's permission, she set workmen to remove all +the remains of the chimney that could be got at--the water was high just +then: she had a barge and workmen, and often watched them, and urged +them by her presence. Not that she ever spoke; but she hovered about +with her marble face and staring eyes, and the sight of her touched +their hearts and spurred them to exertion. + +Sometimes she used to stand on a heap of bricks hard by, and peer, with +dilated eyes into the dark stream, and watch each bucket, or basket, as +it came up with bricks, and rubbish, and mud, from the bottom. + +At other times she would stand on the bridge and lean over the +battlements so far as if she would fly down and search for her dead +lover. + +One day as she hung thus, glaring into the water, she heard a deep sigh. +She looked up, and there was a face almost as pale as her own, and even +more haggard, looking at her with a strange mixture of pain and pity. +This ghastly spectator of her agony was himself a miserable man, it was +Frederick Coventry. His crime had brought him no happiness, no hope of +happiness. + +At sight of him Grace Carden groaned, and covered her face with her +hands. + +Coventry drew back dismayed. His guilty conscience misinterpreted this. + +"You can forgive us now," said Grace, with a deep sob: then turned away +with sullen listlessness, and continued her sad scrutiny. + +Coventry loved her, after his fashion, and her mute but eloquent misery +moved him. + +He drew nearer to her, and said softly, "Do not look so; I can't bear +it. He is not there." + +"Ah! How do you know?" + +Coventry was silent for a moment, and seemed uneasy; but at last he +replied thus: "There were two explosions. The chimney fell into the +river a moment before the explosion that blew up the works. So how can +he be buried under the ruins of the chimney? I know this from a workman +who was standing on the bridge when the explosions took place." + +"Bless the tongue that tells me that! Oh, how much wiser you are than the +rest of us! Mr. Coventry, pity and forgive a poor girl who has used you +ill. Tell me--tell me--what can have become of him?" + +Coventry was much agitated, and could not speak for some time, and +when he did, it was in a faint voice as of one exhausted by a mental +struggle. "Would you rather he was--dead--or--false?" + +"Oh false--a thousand times! Prove to me he is not dead, but only false +to his poor Grace, and I will bless you on my knees." + +Coventry's eye flashed. "Well, then, he was the lover of Jael Dence, the +girl who fought for him, and shed her blood for him, and saved his life. +The connection was open and notorious." + +Grace was silent. + +"Many a man has fled from two women, who could have been happy with +either of them. I believe that this man found himself unable to play the +double game any longer, and that he has fled the country--" + +"I pray God it may be so," sobbed Grace. + +"--Through remorse, or from dread of exposure. Have patience. Do not +kill yourself, and break all our hearts. Take my word for it, you will +hear from him in a few days, and he will give your reasons for his +strange disappearance--excellent, business-like reasons, but not the +true ones: there will not be a word about Jael Dence." This last with a +sneer. + +Grace turned on him with eyes that literally gleamed: "You hated him +living, you slander him dead. Falsehood was not in him: his affection +for Jael Dence was no secret. I knew it, and approved it. It was as +pure as heaven. His poor mutilated body will soon contradict these vile +calumnies. I hate you! I hate you!" + +Coventry drew back at first from this burst of ire, but soon he met her +glance with one of fiendish bitterness. "You hate me for pitying you, +and saying that man is not dead. Well, have your own way, then; he is +not false, but dead." + +He turned on his heel, and went away. + +As for Mr. Carden, he declined to admit that Little was dead, and said +his conduct was unpardonable, and, indeed, so nearly resembled madness, +that, considering the young man's father had committed suicide, he was +determined never to admit him into his house again--at all events as a +suitor to Grace. + +Mr. Coventry had now taken spacious apartments, and furnished them. He +resumed his visits to the club. Mr. Carden met him there, and spoke more +confidentially to him than he did to his daughter, and admitted he had +grave doubts, but said he was a director of the Gosshawk, and would +never, either in public or private, allow that Little was dead unless +his body should be found and properly identified. + +All this time there was a hot discussion in the journals, and the +Saw-grinders' Union repudiated the outrage with horror, and offered a +considerable reward. + +Outsiders were taken in by this, but not a single manufacturer or +workman. + +Mr. Holdfast denounced it as a Trade outrage, and Ransome groped the +town for evidence. + +The latter, however, was rather puzzled one day by an anonymous letter +telling him he was all on the wrong tack; it was not a Trade job, but +contrived by a gentleman for his private ends. Advantage had been taken +of Little being wrong with the Trade; "but," said the letter, "you +should look to the head for the motive, not to the hands. One or two saw +them together a good many times before the deed was done, and the swell +was seen on the very bridge when the explosion took place." + +This set Ransome thinking very seriously and comparing notes. + +Week after week went by and left the mystery unsolved. + +Mr. Coventry saw Mr. Carden nearly every day, and asked him was there +no news of Little? The answer was always in the negative, and this +surprised Coventry more and more. + +When a whole month had elapsed, even he began to fancy strange things, +and to nurse wild projects that had never entered his head before. +He studied books of medical jurisprudence, and made all manner of +experiments. He resumed his intimacy with Cole, and they were often +closeted together. + +Five weeks had elapsed, and Grace Carden had lost all her feverish +energy, and remained passive, lethargic, fearing every thing, hoping +nothing, but quivering all day with expectation of the next blow; for +what had she left to expect now but sorrow in some form or other? + +She often wished to visit Jael Dence again at the hospital; but for some +time an invincible repugnance withheld her. + +She asked Dr. Amboyne to go instead, and question the unhappy girl. + +Dr. Amboyne did so; but Jael was now in a half-stupid condition, and her +poor brain not clear enough to remember what she was wanted to remember. +Her memory was full of gaps, and, unluckily, one of these gaps embraced +the whole period between her battle with Hill and the present time. + +At last Grace was irritated, and blamed the doctor for his failure. + +She reminded him she had herself magnetized Jael, and had almost made +her speak. She resolved to go to the hospital herself. "I'll make her +tell me one thing," said she, "though I tear her heart out, and my own +too." + +She dressed plainly, and walked rapidly down toward the hospital. There +were two ways to it, but she chose the one that was sure to give her +pain. She could not help it; her very feet dragged her to that fatal +spot. + +When she drew near the fatal bridge, she observed a number of persons +collected on it, looking down in the river at some distance. + +At the same time people began to hurry past her, making for the bridge. + +She asked one of them what it was. + +"Summut in the river," was the reply, but in a tone so full of meaning, +that at these simple words she ran forward, though her knees almost gave +way under her. + +The bridge was not so crowded yet, but that she contrived to push in +between two women, and look. + +All the people were speaking in low murmurs. The hot weather had dried +the river up to a stream in the middle, and, in midstream, about fifty +yards from the foot of the bridge, was a pile of broken masonry, which +had once been the upper part of Bolt and Little's chimney. It had fallen +into water twelve feet deep; but now the water was not above five feet, +and a portion of the broken bricks and tiles were visible, some just +above, some just under the water. + +At one side of this wreck jutted out the object on which all eyes were +now fastened. At first sight it looked a crooked log of wood sticking +out from among the bricks. Thousands, indeed, had passed the bridge, +and noticed nothing particular about it; but one, more observant or less +hurried, had peered, and then pointed, and collected the crowd. + +It needed but a second look to show that this was not a log of wood but +the sleeve of a man's coat. A closer inspection revealed that the sleeve +was not empty. + +There was an arm inside that sleeve, and a little more under the water +one could see distinctly a hand white and sodden by the water. + +The dark stream just rippled over this hand, half veiling it at times, +though never hiding it. + +"The body will be jammed among the bricks," said a by-stander; and all +assented with awe. + +"Eh! to think of its sticking out an arm like that!" said a young girl. + +"Dead folk have done more than that, sooner than want Christian burial," +replied an old woman. + +"I warrant ye they have. I can't look at it." + +"Is it cloth, or what?" inquired another. + +"It's a kind of tweed, I think." + +"What's that glittering on its finger?" + +"It's a ring--a gold ring." + +At this last revelation there was a fearful scream, and Grace Carden +fell senseless on the pavement. + +A gentleman who had been hanging about and listening to the comments now +darted forward, with a face almost as white as her own, and raised her +up, and implored the people to get her a carriage. + +It was Mr. Coventry. Little had he counted on this meeting. +Horror-stricken, he conveyed the insensible girl to her father's house. + +He handed her over to the women, and fled, and the women brought her +round; but she had scarcely recovered her senses, when she uttered +another piercing scream, and swooned again. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. + + +Coventry passed a night of agony and remorse. He got up broken and +despondent, and went straight to Woodbine Villa to do a good action. + +He inquired for Miss Carden. They told him she was very ill. He +expressed an earnest wish to see her. The servants told him that was +impossible. Nobody was allowed to see her but Dr. Amboyne. He went +next day to Dr. Amboyne, and the doctor told him that Miss Carden was +dangerously ill. Brain fever appeared inevitable. + +"But, sir," said Coventry, eagerly, "if one could prove to her that +those were not the remains of Henry Little?" + +"How could you prove that? Besides, it would be no use now. She is +delirious. Even should she live, I should forbid the subject for many +a day. Indeed, none but the man himself could make her believe those +remains are not his; and even he could not save her now. If he stood by +her bedside, she would not know him." + +The doctor's lip trembled a little, and his words were so grave and +solemn that they struck to the miserable man's marrow. He staggered +away, like a drunken man, to his lodgings, and there flung himself on +the floor, and groveled in an agony of terror and remorse. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV. + + +One day it occurred to Raby he could play the misanthrope just as well +at home as abroad, so he returned home. + +He found old Dence dead and buried, and Patty Dence gone to Australia +with her husband. + +He heard Jael was in the hospital. He called at Woodbine villa, and they +told him Grace was lying between life and death. + +He called on Dr. Amboyne, and found him as sad as he used to be gay. The +doctor told him all, and even took him to the town hall, and showed him +an arm and part of the trunk of a man preserved in spirits, and a piece +of tweed cloth, and a plain gold ring. + +"There," said he, "is all that remains to us of your nephew, and my +friend. Genius, beauty, courage--all come to this!" He could say no +more. + +The tears filled Raby's eyes, and all his bitterness melted away. With +respect to his sister, he said he was quite willing to be reconciled, +and even to own himself in the wrong, if Dr. Amboyne, on reading the +correspondence, should think so. Dr. Amboyne said he would come to Raby +Hall for that purpose. He communicated this at once to Mrs. Little. + + +Grace had a favorable crisis, and in a few days more she was out of +danger, but in a deplorable state of weakness. Dr. Amboyne ordered her +to the sea-side. A carriage was prepared expressly for her, and her +father took her there. + +Woodbine Villa was put up to let furnished, and it was taken by--Mr. +Coventry. + +Jael Dence began to recover strength rapidly, but she wore at times a +confused look. The very day Grace left for Eastbank she was discharged +as cured, and left the hospital. This was in the morning. + +In the afternoon Dr. Amboyne, being now relieved of his anxiety as to +Grace, remembered he had not been to see this poor girl for some time; +so he went to the hospital. + +When he heard she was discharged, he felt annoyed with himself for not +having paid her closer attention. And besides, Grace had repeatedly told +him Jael Dence could make a revelation if she chose. And now, occupied +with Grace herself, he had neglected her wishes. + +"Where is she gone? do you know?" + +One of the nurses said she was gone home. + +Another said the patient had told her she should go down to the works +first. + +"And that is the very last place you should have let her go to," said +the doctor. "A fine shock the poor creature will get there. You want +her back here again, I suppose!" He felt uneasy, and drove down to the +works. There he made some inquiries among the women, and elicited that +Jael Dence had turned faint at sight of the place, and they had shown +her, at her request, where she had been picked up, and had told her +about the discovery of Little's remains, and she had persuaded a little +girl to go to the town hall with her. + +"Oh, the tongue! the tongue!" groaned Amboyne. + +He asked to see the little girl, and she came forward of her own +accord, and told him she had gone to the town hall with the lass, "but" +(regretfully) "that the man would not show them it without an order from +the Mayor." + +"IT!" + +Dr. Amboyne said he was very glad that common sense had not quite +deserted the earth. "And where did you go next?" + +"I came back here." + +"So I see; but the lass?" + +"She said she should go home. 'My dear,' says she, 'there's nobody left +me here; I'll go and die among my own folk.' That was her word." + +"Poor thing! poor thing! Why--" + +He stopped short, for that moment he remembered Raby had said old Dence +was dead, and Patty gone to Australia. If so, here was another blow in +store for poor Jael, and she weakened by a long illness. + +He instantly resolved to drive after her, and see whether she was really +in a fit state to encounter so many terrible shocks. If not, he should +take her back to the infirmary, or into his own house; for he had a +great respect for her, and indeed for all her family. + +He drove fast, but he could see nothing of her on the road. So then he +went on to Cairnhope. + +He stopped at the farm-house. It was sadly deteriorated in appearance. +Inside he found only an old carter and his daughter. The place was in +their charge. + +The old man told him apathetically Jael had come home two hours ago and +asked for her father and Patty, and they had told her the old farmer was +dead and buried, and Patty gone to foreign parts. + +"What, you blurted it out like that! You couldn't put yourself in +that poor creature's place, and think what a blow it would be? How, in +Heaven's name, did she take it?" + +"Well, sir, she stared a bit, and looked stupid-like; and then she sat +down. She sat crowded all together like in yon corner best part of an +hour, and then she got up and said she must go and see his grave." + +"You hadn't the sense to make her eat, of course?" + +"My girl here set meat afore her, but she couldn't taste it." + +Dr. Amboyne drove to Raby Hall and told Raby. Raby said he would have +Jael up to the hall. It would be a better place for her now than the +farm. He ordered a room to be got ready for her, and a large fire +lighted, and at the same time ordered the best bedroom for Dr. Amboyne. +"You must dine and sleep here," said he, "and talk of old times." + +Dr. Amboyne thanked him--it was dusk by this time--and was soon seated +at that hospitable table, with a huge wood fire blazing genially. + +Meantime Jael Dence sat crouched upon her father's grave, stupefied with +grief. When she had crouched there a long time she got up, and muttered, +"Dead and gone! dead and gone!" + +Then she crept up to the old church, and sat down in the porch, benumbed +with grief, and still a little confused in her poor head. + +She sat there for nearly two hours, and then she got up, and muttered, +"Dead and gone--he is dead and gone!" and wandered on the hill desolate. + +Her feet wandered, her brain wandered. She found herself at last in +a place she recognized. It was Squire Raby's lawn. The moon had just +risen, and shone on the turf, and on the little river that went curling +round with here and there a deep pool. + +She crept nearer, and saw the great bay-window, and a blaze of light +behind it. + +There she had sung the great Noel with her father; and now he was dead +and gone. + +There she had been with Henry Little, and seen him recognize his +mother's picture; and now he was dead and gone. She had saved his life +in vain; he was dead and gone. Every body was dead and gone. + +She looked up at the glowing window. She looked down at the pool, with +the moon kissing it. + +She flung her arms up with a scream of agony, and sunk into the deep +pool, where the moon seemed most to smile on it. + + +Directly after dinner Dr. Amboyne asked to see the unhappy +correspondence of which he was to be the judge. + +Raby went for the letters, and laid them before him. He took up the +fatal letter. "Why, this is not written by Mrs. Little. I know her neat +Italian hand too well. See how the letters slant and straggle." + +"Oh! but you must allow for the writer's agitation." + +"Why should I allow for it? YOU DIDN'T. Who can look at this scrawl, +and not see that the poor heart-broken creature was not herself when +she wrote it? This is not a letter, it is a mere scream of agony. Put +yourself in her place. Imagine yourself a woman--a creature in whom +the feelings overpower the judgment. Consider the shock, the wound, the +frenzy; and, besides, she had no idea that you left this house to get +her husband the money from your own funds." + +"She never shall know it either." + +"She does know it. I have told her. And, poor thing, she thinks she was +the only one to blame. She seeks your forgiveness. She pines for it. +This is the true cause of her illness; and I believe, if you could +forgive her and love her, it might yet save her life." + +"Then tell her I blame myself as much as her. Tell her my house, my +arms, and my heart are open to her. Amboyne, you are a true friend, and +a worthy man. God bless you. How shall we get her here, poor soul? Will +you go for her, or shall I?" + +"Let me sleep on that," said Dr. Amboyne. + + +In the course of the evening, Dr. Amboyne told Raby all the reports +about Jael Dence and Henry Little. + +"What does that matter now?" said Raby, with a sigh. + +Whenever a servant came into the room, Amboyne asked him if Jael had +arrived. + +Raby shared his curiosity, but not his anxiety. "The girl knows her +friends," said he. "She will have her cry out, you may depend; but after +that she will find her way here, and, when she has got over it a little, +I shall be sure to learn from her whether he was her lover, and where he +was when the place was blown up. A Dence never lies to a Raby." + +But when nine o'clock struck, and there were no tidings of her, Raby +began to share the doctor's uneasiness, and also to be rather angry and +impatient. + +"Confound the girl!" said he. "Her grandfathers have stood by mine, +in their danger and trouble, for two hundred years; and now, in her +trouble, she slinks away from me." + +"Put yourself in her place," said Amboyne. "Ten to one she thinks you +are offended about her and Henry. She is afraid to come near you." + +"What, when I ask her?" + +"Through your stupid lazy servants, who, to save themselves trouble, +have very likely told somebody else to tell her; and we know what +comes of that process. Ten to one the invitation has either missed her +altogether, or come to her divested of all that is kind and soothing. +And remember, she is not a man. She is a poor girl, full of shame and +apprehension, and needs a gentle encouraging hand to draw her here. Do, +for once, put yourself in a woman's place--you were born of a woman." + +"You are right," said Raby. "I will send down a carriage for her, with a +line in my own hand." + +He did so. + +At eleven the servant came back with the news that Jael Dence was not at +home. She had been seen wandering about the country, and was believed to +be wrong in her head. George, the blacksmith, and others, were gone up +to the old church after her. + +"Turn out with torches, every man Jack of you, and find her," said Raby. + +As for Raby and Amboyne, they sat by the fireside and conversed +together--principally about poor Mrs. Little; but the conversation was +languid. + +A few minutes after midnight a terrible scream was heard. It was uttered +out of doors, yet it seemed to penetrate the very room where Raby and +Amboyne were seated. Both men started to their feet. The scream was not +repeated. They looked at each other. + +"It was in my garden," said Raby; and, with some little difficulty, he +opened the window and ran out, followed by Amboyne. + +They looked, but could see nothing. + +But, with that death-shriek ringing in their ears, they wasted no time. +Raby waved Amboyne to the left, and himself dashed off to the right, and +they scoured the lawn in less than a minute. + +A cry of horror from Raby! He had found the body of a woman floating in +a pool of the river, head downward. + +He dashed into the water directly and drew it to the bank; Dr. Amboyne +helped him, and they got it out on dry land. The face was ghastly, the +body still. + +"Turn her face downward," said Amboyne, "give her every chance. Carry +her gently." + +One took the shoulders, the other the feet; they carried her slowly in +and laid her gently down before the fire. + +She lay like dripping marble. + +Her clothes clinging tightly round her, revealed her marvelous form and +limbs of antique mold--but all so deadly still. + +Amboyne kneeled over her, searching, in vain, for some sign of life. He +groaned. + +"Oh!" said he, "is it possible that such a creature as this can be cut +off in its prime?" + +"Dead!" cried Raby, trembling all over. "Oh, God forbid! One of her +ancestors saved a Raby's life in battle, another saved a Raby in a +foaming flood; and I couldn't save her in a dead pool! She is the last +of that loyal race, and I'm the last Raby. Farewell, Dence! Farewell, +Raby!" + +While he bemoaned her thus, and his tears actually dripped upon her pale +face, Amboyne detected a slight quivering in the drowned woman's throat. + +"Hush?" said he to Raby. + +There was a pair of old-fashioned bellows by the side of the fire; +Amboyne seized them, and opened Jael's mouth with more ease than he +expected. "That is a good sign," said he. + +He inflated the bellows, and inserted the tube very carefully; then he +discharged the air, then gently sucked it back again. When he had done +this several times something like a sigh escaped from Jael's breast. The +doctor removed the bellows, and felt her heart and examined her eyes. +"Curious!" said he. "Give me some brandy. It is more like syncope than +drowning." + +Acting on this notion, he laid her flat on her back, and applied neat +brandy to her nostrils and ears. + +After a while she moved her whole body like a wounded snake, and moaned +feebly. + +Raby uttered a loud shout of joy. "She is saved!" he cried. "She +is saved!" He jumped about the room like a boy, and, anxious to do +something or other, was for ringing up the female servants. But Amboyne +would not hear of it. "On the contrary," said he, "lock the door, and +let only you and I see the poor girl's distress when she comes back to +this bitter world. Raby, don't you shut your eyes to the truth. This was +no accident." + +"I am afraid not," said Raby. "She knows the water as well as I do, and +she picked out the deepest hole: poor girl! poor girl" + +He then asked Amboyne in a whisper what he thought she would do when she +came to her senses. + +"Impossible to say. She may be violent, and if so we shall have enough +to do to hold her. They tell me she threw that workman like a sack." + +At this moment Jael stretched her great arms and sighed. The movement, +though gentle and feminine, had a grandeur and freedom that only goes +with power. + +The doctor lowered his voice to a whisper. "She is a good Christian, and +most likely she will be penitent, and then she will cry her heart out. +Any way, she is pretty sure to be hysterical, so mind and be firm as +well as kind. There, her color is coming back. Now put yourself in her +place. You and I must call this an accident. Stick to that through thick +and thin. Ah, she is coming round safe. She shall see you first. You +take her right hand, and look at her with all the pity and kindness I am +sure you feel." + +Mr. Raby took Jael's hand in both his, and fixed his eyes on her with +pity and anxiety. + +She came to her senses, and stared at him a long time. + +Then she looked down at her wet clothes. Then she snatched her hand +away, and covered her face with both hands, and began to rock and moan, +and finally turned round and hid her face against the very floor as if +she would grovel and burrow into it. + +"Are you better, my dear?" said the doctor, quietly. + +No reply. And the face still crushed against the floor. + +"The next time you faint away, don't let it be on the banks of a river. +You have been going too long without food; and you fainted away and +fell into the river. Luckily it was not very deep or it might have been +serious. You have given us a fine fright, I can tell you." + +While these words were being uttered, Jael, who did not miss a syllable, +began to look very, very slowly round with scared and troubled eyes, and +to defend herself. "I remember naught," said she, doggedly. "Who took me +out?" + +"Mr. Raby." + +She looked timidly at him, and saw his wet clothes. + +"Oh, squire, why did you spoil your clothes for me?" and she laid her +head on his knee and began to cry. + +"My clothes!" said Raby. "The girl wants to break my heart." + +"Eh, dear! and I've spoiled the beautiful carpet," said Jael, piteously. + +"D--n the carpet!" said Raby, nearly blubbering. + +All this time Amboyne was putting himself in Jael's Dence's place. + +"Is there a good fire in her room?" asked he, with a significant look. + +Raby took the hint, and said he would go and see. + +As soon as he was out of the room, the transmigrator began to talk very +fast to Jael. "Now look here, Jael, that poor man is alone in the world +now, and very sad; he wants you to keep his house for him. He has been +sending messages all day after you, and your room has been ready ever so +long." + +"My room in this house?" + +"Yes. But we could not find you. However, here you are. Now you must not +go back to the farm. The poor squire won't be quite so sad if he sees +you about him. You know he was always fond of you Dences. You should +have seen him cry over you just now when he thought you were dead." + +"I am more cared for than I thought," said Jael, softly. + +"Yes, but not more than you deserve, my dear." He dipped a sponge-cake +in wine. "Oblige me by eating that." + +She took it submissively. + +"Now another." + +She ate another, and a third. + +"It's a very wicked lass you are so good to," said she, softly, and some +gentle tears began to flow. + +"Stuff and nonsense!" said the doctor. "What do you know about +wickedness? I'm a better judge of that than you, and I say you are the +best girl and the most unselfish girl in the world; and the proof is +that, instead of sitting down and nursing your own griefs, you are going +to pluck up courage, and be a comfort to poor Mr. Raby in his lonely +condition." + +These words appeared to sink into Jael's mind: she put her hands to her +head, and pondered them. Perhaps she might have replied to them, but +Raby came down, and ordered her to her apartment. + +She took a step or two in that direction, but presently drew back and +would not move. "The women-folk! They'll see me on the stair, this +figure." + +"Not they. They are all in bed." + +"Are they so? Then please let me go to the kitchen for a dry cloth or +two." + +"What to do?" + +"To dry the rug a bit. Just look--what a mess I've made!" + +"I'll say it was the dog." + +"Will you, though? Oh, but you are a good friend to me this night. Then +I'll go. Let me wring my gown a bit, not to mess the stairs as well." + +"No, no; I'll take all the blame. Will you go, or must the doctor and I +carry you?" + +"Nay, nay, there's no need. Your will is my pleasure, sir." + +So Mr. Raby showed Jael to her room, and opened a great wardrobe, and +took out several armfuls of antique female habiliments, and flung them +on the floor; rich velvets, more or less faded, old brocades, lace +scarves, chemises with lace borders; in short, an accumulation of +centuries. He soon erected a mound of these things in the middle of the +floor, and told her to wear what she liked, but to be sure and air the +things well first; "for," said he, "it is a hundred years or so since +they went on any woman's back. Now, say your prayers like a good girl, +and go to bed." + +"Ay," said Jael, solemnly, "I shall say my prayers, you may be sure." + +As he left the room she said, in a sort of patient way, "Good squire, I +am willing to live, since you are so lonely." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. + + +Early next morning Mr. Raby was disturbed by female voices in a high +key. He opened his window quietly, intending to throw in his bass with +startling effect, when, to his surprise, he found the disputants were +his dairymaid and Jael Dence. + +"And who are you that interferes with me in my work? Where do you come +from? Did ye get in over the wall? for ye never came in at no door. Who +are you?" + +"I am one who won't see the good squire wronged. Aren't ye ashamed? +What, eat his bread, and take his wage, and then steal his butter!" + +"If ye call me a thief, I'll law ye. Thief yourself! you don't belong +to the house; whose gown have you got on your back? Here, James! Tom! +here's a strange woman making off with the squire's lady's clothes, and +two pounds of butter to boot." + +Jael was taken aback for a moment by this audacious attack, and surveyed +her borrowed habiliments with a blush of confusion. Several servants +came about at the noise, and her situation bade fair to be a very +unpleasant one: but Mr. Raby put in his word; "Hold your tongues, all of +ye. Now, Jael Dence, what is the matter?" + +Instantly all eyes were turned up to the window with a start, and Jael +told her tale: "Sir," said she, "I did see this young woman take out +something from under her apron and give it to a little girl. I thought +there was something amiss, and I stopped the girl at the gate, and +questioned her what she was carrying off so sly. She gives a squeak and +drops it directly, and takes to her heels. I took it up and brought it +in, and here it is, two beautiful pounds of butter, fresh churned; look +else!"--here she undid a linen wrap, and displayed the butter--"so I +challenged the dairymaid here. She says I'm a thief--and that I leave to +you, Squire; you know whether I come of thieves or honest folk; but what +I want to know from her is, why her lass dropped the butter and took to +her heels at a word?" + +"Now, my good Jael," said the Squire, "if you are going to interfere +every time you catch my servants pilfering, you will have a hard time +of it. However, zeal is too rare a thing for me to discourage it. I must +make an example. Hy, you young woman: I dare say you are no worse than +the rest, but you are the one that is found out; so you must pack up +your clothes and begone." + +"Not without a month's warning, or a month's wage, sir, it you please," +said the dairymaid, pertly. + +"If I catch you in the house when I come down, I'll send you to prison +on my own warrant, with the butter tied round your neck." + +At this direful threat the offender began to blubber, and speedily +disappeared to pack her box. + +Mr. Raby then told the other servants that Jael Dence was the new +housekeeper, and that a person of her character was evidently required +in the house; they must all treat her with respect, or leave his +service. Thereupon two gave warning, and Mr. Raby, who never kept a +servant a day after that servant had given him warning, had them up to +his room, and paid them a month's wages. "And now," said he, "for the +honor of the house, don't leave us fasting, but eat a good breakfast, +and then go to the devil." + +At his own breakfast he related the incident to Dr. Amboyne, with a +characteristic comment: "And the fools say there is nothing in race. So +likely, that of all animals man alone should be exempt from the law +of nature! Take a drowning watch-dog out of the water and put him in a +strange house, he is scarcely dry before he sets to work to protect it. +Take a drowning Dence into your house, and she is up with the lark to +look after your interests. That girl connive and let the man be robbed +whose roof shelters her? She COULDN'T; it is not in her blood. I'm +afraid there's to be a crusade against petty larceny in this house, +and more row about it than it is worth. No matter; I shall support the +crusader, on principle. It is not for me to check honest impulses, nor +to fight against nature in almost the only thing where she commands my +respect." + +"Very well," said the doctor, "that is settled: so now let us talk of +something more important. How are we to get your sister, in her delicate +state, from Wales to this place?" + +"Why, I will go for her myself, to be sure." + +"Raby, your heart is in the right place, after all. But when she is +here, how are we to conceal her unhappy son's fate from her? It will be +more difficult than ever, now Jael Dence is in the house." + +"Why so? We must take the girl into our confidence--that is all." + +"The sooner the better then. Let us have her in here." + +Jael was sent for, and Mr. Raby requested her to take a seat, and give +all her attention to something Dr. Amboyne had to say. + +Dr. Amboyne then told her, with quiet earnestness, that Mrs. Little was +at present so ill and weak he felt sure the news of Henry's death would +kill her. + +"Ay, poor soul!" said Jael, and began to cry bitterly. + +The doctor held his peace, and cast a disconsolate look on Raby, as much +as to say, "We shall get no efficient aid in this quarter." + +After a little while Jael dried her eyes, and said, "Go on, sir. I +must needs cry before you now and then: 'tisn't to say I shall ever cry +before HER." + +"Well, then, if we CAN get her safe to this place, and keep her in the +dark for a few months, I think we may save her life. Every thing else +will be in her favor here: her native air, cherished memories, her +brother's love--and, after all, it was fretting about her quarrel with +him that first undermined her health and spirits. Well, we shall remove +the cause, and then perhaps the effect may go. But how are we to keep +the sad truth from her?" + +"Let me think," said Jael Dence. "My head is a deal clearer since last +night." + +She leaned her chin upon her hand, and her face and brow showed signs of +intellectual power no one had ever observed in them before. + +"Who is to go for her?" said she at last. + +"I am going myself." + +"That is a mistake at starting, begging your worship's pardon. Why, the +very sight of you might startle her into her grave. Nay, you'll give me +the money--for mine is all in the savings bank--and I shall go for her +myself. I shall tell her squire is longing for her, and that I'm to be +here for fear she might feel strange. She always liked me, poor soul. +I shall get her safe here, you needn't fear for that. But when she is +here"--the chin rested on the hand again--"well, the doctor must forbid +visitors. Miss Grace must be told not to write. Every newspaper must be +read before she is allowed to see it. And, squire, you will be very +kind to her when you are in her company; but we must manage, somehow or +other, so that you can keep out of her way." + +"What for, in heaven's name?" + +"Sir, we shall have to lie from morn to night; and you will be a bungler +at that, saving your presence. If there's a servant left in the house +who knows, I'd give that servant a present, and part with her before +Mrs. Little sets her foot in the house." + +"This sounds very sensible," said Raby. "I am a novice at lying. But I +shall cultivate the art for poor Edith's sake. I'm not a fanatic: there +is justifiable homicide, so why not justifiable facticide?" + +"Raby," said the doctor, "this young woman has said enough to show me +that she is more fit to conduct this delicate undertaking than either +you or I. Let us profit by the discovery, put our vanity in our pocket, +and give her the command. My dear, you see the importance, you see the +difficulty; now will you undertake it?" + +"I will, sir," said Jael, firmly; "and I look to succeed, God willing. I +shall be in Wales this afternoon." + +"Well, but would you not be the better yourself for one day's rest?" + +"No, sir. I've learned, with a sad heart, what one day may bring forth. +After that, I'm sworn never to throw away a day. And, as for sitting +down and thinking, 'tis the worst thing I can do. I do thank God that in +this, my own heavy trouble, I'm not tied to my sad thoughts, but can get +about, and do a little of good for Raby House. Do what I will, 'tis but +giving them back one pig out of their own farrow; for we owe all we have +to them." + +With this she retired to prepare for her journey, leaving both the +gentlemen lost in admiration of her simple virtues, and the clear +intelligence she had shown them in few words. + +She traveled into Wales that very day, and many a burst of bitter grief +she had all by herself in the train. + +At six P.M. she stood before Mrs. Little with a smiling countenance. +Mrs. Little welcomed her with some little pleasure and much surprise. + +"Good news, madam," said Jael. "Squire Raby has sent me to bring you to +Raby Hall. He wanted to come himself, but I would not let him." + +"That is good news," said Mrs. Little languidly. "Now I shall die at +peace with my brother--at peace with all mankind, I hope." + +"You'll die when your time comes," said Jael. "But you have got a shorter +journey before you at present, and that is to Raby Hall." + +"Raby Hall! I shall never see it again. I have no strength to move. I am +worn out with the battle of life. Stay with me here, and close my eyes." + +"Of course I shall stay with you," said Jael, and began to gossip with +every appearance of carelessness. + +Next morning, with infinite difficulty, she persuaded the poor jaundiced +lady to show her Aberystwith. She took the tickets herself, and got her +patient half-way to Hillsborough; next day, with less difficulty, to +Raby Hall. All had been settled before. Edith little was shown into her +old bedroom, adorned with pyramids of flowers in her honor; and there +she found a loving line from Guy, begging her pardon for his past +harshness, and telling her she was to send for him as soon as she felt +strong enough to meet. + +That evening brother and sister were clasped in each other's arms, and +wept tears of affection and regret over each other. + +Jael Dence slept on a camp-bed in Mrs. Little's room, which was very +spacious, and watched her, and was always about her. Under private +advice from Dr. Amboyne, she superintended her patient's diet, and, by +soft, indomitable perseverance, compelled her to walk every day, and +fight against her fatal lassitude. + +Heaven rewarded her by giving her a warm and tender affection for her +poor patient that did something to fill her own yearning and desolate +heart. + +Here I must leave them both for the present, and show how these events +affected the main characters of my story. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII. + + +Just outside the little sea-side town of Eastbank is a house which, +being very old, contrasts agreeably with the pretentious villas fashion +has raised. It is gloomy inside, yet outside it looks like a cottage: +low, rambling, gabled, and picturesque. It stands on a slope just above +the sea, and its front garden runs down almost to the sea-shore. The +aspect is southerly. The placid sea looks like a beautiful lake; for, +about two miles out, a great tongue of land runs across and keeps the +tempests out. + +The cottage itself was now closed deep with green creepers, and its +veranda with jessamine; and the low white walls of the garden were +beautiful with vine-leaves and huge fig-leaves, that ran up them and +about them, and waved over them in tropical luxuriance. In short, the +house was a very bower, and looked the abode of bliss; and this time +last year a young couple had spent their honeymoon there, and left it +with a sigh. But one place sees many minds; and now this sweet place was +the bed on which dropped the broken lily of this tale, Grace Carden. + +She lay in the warm air of the veranda, and turned her hollow eyes upon +the sea; and every day life crept slowly back to her young body, but not +to her desolate heart. + +A brain fever either kills or blunts, and Grace's agony was blunted. Her +mind was in a strange state. She was beginning to look two things in the +face: that the man she loved was dead; that the man she loved, and had +nearly died for, had loved another as well as herself: and this last +grief, strange to say, was the saving of her. She forgave him with all +her heart, for he was dead; she made excuses for him, for she loved +him; but since his whole heart had not been hers, her pride and modesty +rebelled against dying for him, and she resolved to live; she fought +hard to live and get well. Finally, being a very woman, though a noble +one, she hated Jael Dence. + +She was not alone in the world. Her danger, her illness, and her misery +had shown her the treasure of a father's love. He had found this sweet +bower for her; and here he sat for hours by her side, and his hand +in hers, gazing on her with touching anxiety and affection. Business +compelled him to run into Hillsborough now and then, but he dispatched +it with feverish haste, and came back to her: it drove him to London; +but he telegraphed to her twice a day, and was miserable till he got +back. She saw the man of business turned into a man of love for her, and +she felt it. "Ah, papa," she said one day, "I little thought you loved +your poor Grace so much. You don't love any other child but me, do you, +papa?" and with this question she clung weeping round his neck. + +"My darling child, there's nothing on earth I love but you. When shall I +see you smile again?" + +"In a few hours, years. God knows." + + +One evening--he had been in Hillsborough that day--he said, "My dear, +I have seen an old friend of yours to-day, Mr. Coventry. He asked very +kindly after you." + +Grace made no reply. + +"He is almost as pale as you are. He has been very ill, he tells me. +And, really, I believe it was your illness upset him." + +"Poor Mr. Coventry!" said Grace, but with a leaden air of indifference. + +"I hope I didn't do wrong, but when he asked after you so anxiously, I +said, 'Come, and see for yourself.' Oh, you need not look frightened; he +is not coming. He says you are offended with him." + +"Not I. What is Mr. Coventry to me?" + +"Well, he thinks so. He says he was betrayed into speaking ill to you +of some one who, he thought, was living; and now that weighs upon his +conscience." + +"I can't understand that. I am miserable, but let me try and be just. +Papa, Mr. Coventry was trying to comfort me, in his clumsy way; and what +he said he did not invent--he heard it; and so many people say so that +I--I--oh, papa! papa!" + +Mr. Carden dropped the whole subject directly. + +However, she returned to it herself, and said, listlessly, that Mr. +Coventry, in her opinion, had shown more generosity than most people +would in his case. She had no feeling against him; he was of no more +importance in her eyes than that stool, and he might visit her if he +pleased, but on one condition--that he should forget all the past, and +never presume to speak to her of love. "Love! Men are all incapable +of it." She was thinking of Henry, even while she was speaking of his +rival. + +The permission, thus limited, was conveyed to Mr. Coventry by his friend +Carden; but he showed no hurry to take advantage of it; and, as for +Grace, she forgot she had given it. + +But this coolness of Coventry's was merely apparent. He was only +awaiting the arrival of Patrick Lally from Ireland. This Lally was +an old and confidential servant, who had served him formerly in many +intrigues, and with whom he had parted reluctantly some months ago, and +allowed him a small pension for past services. He dared not leave the +villa in charge of any person less devoted to him than this Lally. + +The man arrived at last, received minute instructions, and then Mr. +Coventry went to Eastbank. + +He found what seemed the ghost of Grace Carden lying on the sofa, +looking on the sea. + +At the sight of her he started back in dismay. + +"What have I done?" + +Those strange words fell from him before he knew what he was saying. + +Grace heard them, but did not take the trouble to inquire into their +meaning. She said, doggedly, "I am alive, you see. Nothing kills. It is +wonderful: we die of a fall, of a blow, of swallowing a pin; yet I am +alive. But never mind me; you look unwell yourself. What is the matter?" + +"Can you ask me?" + +At this, which implied that her illness was the cause of his, she turned +her head away from him with weariness and disgust, and looked at the +sea, and thought of the dead. + +Coventry sat speechless, and eyed her silent figure with miserable +devotion. He was by her side once more, and no rival near. He set +himself to study all her moods, and began by being inoffensive to her; +in time he might be something more. + +He spent four days in Eastbank, and never uttered a word of love; but +his soft soothing voice was ever in her ear, and won her attention now +and then; not often. + +When he left her, she did not ask him to come again. + +Her father did, though, and told him to be patient; better days were in +store. "Give her time," said he, "and, a month or two hence, if you have +the same feeling for her you used to have--" + +"I love her more than ever. I worship her--" + +"Then you will have me on your side, stronger than ever. But you must +give her time." + +And now Coventry had an ally far more powerful than himself--an ally at +once zealous and judicious. Mr. Carden contented himself at first with +praising him in general terms; next he affected to laugh at him for +renting the villa, merely to be in the place which Grace had occupied. +Then Grace defended him. "Don't laugh at an honest love. Pity it. It is +all we can do, and the least we can do." + +But when he advanced further, and began to remind his daughter she had +once given this gentleman hopes, and all but engaged herself to him, +she drew back with fear and repugnance, and said, "If he can not forget +that, pray let him never come near me again." + +"Oh," said Mr. Carden, "I believe he has no hopes of the kind; it is of +you I am thinking, not of him. It has got about that poor Little had a +connection with some girl in humble life, and that he was in love with +her, and you in love with him. That wounds a father's pride, and makes +me grateful to Coventry for his unshaken devotion, whilst others are +sneering at my poor child for her innocent love." + +Grace writhed, and the tears ran down her cheeks at this. "Oh, spare the +dead!" she faltered. + +Then her father kissed her, and begged her to forgive him; he would +avoid all these topics in future: and so he did, for some time; but what +he had said rankled. + +A few days after this Coventry came again, and did nothing but soothe +Grace with words; only he managed so that Grace should detect him +looking very sad when he was not actually employed in cheering her. + +She began to pity him a little, and wonder at his devotion. + +He had not been gone many hours when another visitor arrived quite +unexpectedly--Mr. Raby. He came to tell her his own news, and warn her +of the difficult game they were now playing at Raby Hall, that she might +not thwart it inadvertently. + +Grace was much agitated, and shed tears of sympathy. She promised, with +a sigh, to hold no communication with Mrs. Little. She thought it very +hard, but she promised. + +In the course of his narrative Mr. Raby spoke very highly of Jael Dence, +and of her conduct in the matter. + +To this Grace did not respond. She waited her opportunity, and said, +keenly and coldly, "How did she come to be in your house?" + +"Well, that is a secret." + +"Can you not trust me with a secret?" + +"Oh yes," said Raby, "provided you will promise faithfully to tell no +one." + +Grace promised, and he then told her that Jael Dence, in a moment of +desperation, had thrown herself into the river at the back of his house. +"Poor girl!" said he, "her brain was not right at the time. Heaven +keep us all from those moments of despair. She has got over it now, and +nurses and watches my poor sister more like a mother watching her child +than a young woman taking care of an old one. She is the mainspring of +the house." + +At all this Grace turned from pale to white, but said nothing; and Raby +ran on in praise of Jael, little dreaming what pain his words inflicted. + +When he left her, she rose and walked down to the sea; for her tortured +spirit gave her body energy. Hitherto she found she had only suspected; +now she was sure. Hitherto she had feared Henry Little had loved Jael +Dence a little; now she was sure he had loved her best. Jael Dence would +not have attempted self-destruction for any man unless he loved her. The +very act proved her claim to him more eloquently than words could do. +Now she believed all--the anonymous letter--Mr. Coventry's report--the +woman's words who worked in the same factory, and could not be deceived. +And her godfather accepted Jael Dence and her claim to sympathy: she was +taken into his house, and set to nurse Henry Little's mother: poor Grace +was slighted on all sides; she must not even write to Mrs. Little, nor +take part in the pious falsehood they were concocting together, Raby and +his Jael Dence, whom everybody loved best--everybody except this poor +faithful ill-used wretch, Frederick Coventry; and him she hated for +loving her better than the man she loved had loved her. + +Tender, but very proud, this sensitive creature saw herself dethroned +from her love. Jael Dence had eclipsed her in every way; had saved his +life with her strong arm, had almost perished with him; and had tried +to kill herself when he was dead. SHE was far behind this rival in every +thing. She had only loved, and suffered, and nearly died. "No, no," she +said to herself, "she could not love him better than I did: but HE loved +HER best; and she knew it, and that made her arm strong to fight, +and her heart strong to die for him. I am nobody--nothing." Then the +scalding tears ran down her cheeks. But soon her pride got the upper +hand, and dried her cheeks, and nearly maddened her. + +She began to blush for her love, to blush for her illness. She rose into +that state of exasperation in which persons of her sex do things they +look back upon with wonder, and, strange to say, all this without one +unkind thought of him whose faults she saw, but excused--he was dead. + +She now began to struggle visibly, and violently, against her deadly +sorrow. She forced herself to take walks and rides, and to talk, with +nothing to say. She even tried to laugh now and then. She made violent +efforts to be gracious and pitiful to Mr. Coventry, and the next minute +made him suffer for it by treating him like a troublesome hound. + +He loved her madly, yet sometimes he felt tempted to kill her, and end +both her torture and his own. + +Such was the inner life of Grace Carden for many days; devoid of +striking incident, yet well worthy of study by those who care to pierce +below the surface, and see what passes in the hearts of the unhappy, and +to learn how things come gradually about that sound incredible when +not so traced, yet are natural and almost inevitable results of certain +conflicting passions in a virgin heart. + + +One day Mr. Carden telegraphed from London to Mr. Coventry at +Hillsborough that he was coming down to Eastbank by the midday express, +and would be glad to meet him there at four o'clock. He also telegraphed +to Grace, and said, "Dinner at five." + +Both gentlemen arrived about the same time, a little before dinner. + +Soon after dinner was over, Grace observed a restlessness in her +father's manner, which convinced her he had something private to say to +Mr. Coventry. Her suspicions were aroused: she fancied he was going to +encourage Mr. Coventry to court her. Instantly the whole woman was in +arms, and her love for the deceased came rushing back tenfold. She rose, +soon after dinner, and retired to the drawing-room; but, as soon as she +got there, she slipped quietly into the veranda, and lay softly down +upon her couch. The dining-room window was open, and with her quick +ears, she could hear nearly every word. + +She soon found that all her bitterness and her preparation for +hostilities were wasted. Her father was telling Mr. Coventry the story +of Richard Martin; only he carried it a step further than I have done. + +"Well, sir," said he, "the money had not been paid more than a month, +when an insurance office down at Liverpool communicated with us. The +same game had been played with them; but, somehow, their suspicions were +excited. We compared notes with them, and set detectives to work. +They traced Martin's confederates, and found one of them was in prison +awaiting his trial for some minor offense. They worked on him to tell +the truth (I am afraid they compounded), and he let out the whole truth. +Every one of those villains could swim like ducks, and Richard Martin +like a fish. Drowned? not he: he had floated down to Greenwich or +somewhere--the blackguard! and hid himself. And what do you think the +miscreants did next? Bought a dead marine; and took him down in a box to +some low public-house by the water-side. They had a supper, and dressed +their marine in Richard Martin's clothes, and shaved its whiskers, and +broke its tooth, and set it up in a chair, with a table before it, and +a pot of ale, and fastened a pipe in its mouth; and they kept toasting +this ghastly corpse as the thing that was to make all their fortunes." +At this grotesque and horrible picture, a sigh of horror was uttered in +the veranda. Mr. Carden, occupied with his narrative, did not hear it, +but Coventry did. "Then, when it was pitch dark, they staggered down to +the water with it, and planted it in the weeds. And, mark the cunning! +when they had gone through their farce of recognizing it publicly for +Richard Martin, they bribed a churchwarden and buried it under our very +noses: it was all done in a way to take in the very devil. There's no +Richard Martin; there never was a Richard Martin; there never will be: +all this was contrived and executed by a swindler well known to the +police, only they can't catch him; he is here, and there and everywhere; +they call him 'Shifty Dick.' He and his myrmidons have bled the +'Gosshawk' to the tune of nine hundred pounds." + +He drew his breath and proceeded more calmly. "However, a lesson of this +kind is never thrown away upon a public man, and it has given me some +very curious ideas about another matter. You know what I mean." + +Coventry stared, and looked quite taken aback by this sudden turn. + +However he stammered out, "I suppose you mean--but, really, I can't +imagine what similarity--" he paused, and, inadvertently, his eye glanced +uneasily toward the veranda. + +"Oh," said Mr. Carden, "these diabolical frauds are not done upon one +pattern, or, of course, there would soon be an end of their success. But +come now, what proof have we got that what they found in the river at +Hillsborough was the remains of Henry Little?" + +"I don't know, I am sure. But nobody seems to doubt it. The situation, +the clothes, the ring--so many coincidences." + +"That is all very well, if there were no rogues in the world. But +there are; and I know it, to my cost. The 'Gosshawk' has just lost nine +hundred pounds by not suspecting. It shall not lose five thousand by the +same weakness; I'll take care of that." + +He paused a moment, and then proceeded to argue the matter: + +"The very idea of an imposture has never occurred to any body; in +Little's case, it did not occur to me until this business of Shifty Dick +enlightened me. But, come now, just admit the idea of imposture into +that honest, unsuspicious mind of yours, and you'll find the whole thing +wears a very doubtful appearance directly. A common workman--he was no +more at the time--insures his life, for how much? three hundred pounds? +no; five thousand. Within one year after that he disappears, under +cover of an explosion. Some weeks afterward--about as many as the Martin +swindle--there is found in the river a fragment of humanity; an arm, and +a hand, and a piece of a human trunk; but no face, mind you: arms are +pretty much alike, faces differ. The fragment is clad in brown tweed, +and Little wore brown tweed: that is all very well; but the marine was +found dressed from head to foot in Shifty Dick's very clothes. But let +us go on. There was a plain gold ring found on the hand in Hillsborough +river, and my poor daughter had given Little a plain gold ring. But +what was there to hinder an impostor from buying some pauper's body, +and putting a plain gold ring on the hand? Why, paupers' bodies are +constantly sold, and the funeral services gabbled over a coffin full +of stones. If I had paper and ink here, and could put Little's case and +Martin's in two columns, I should soon show you that Martin and his gang +faced and overcame more and greater difficulties in the way of imposture +than any that have been overcome in Little's case. The Martin gang dealt +with the face; here, that is shirked. The Martin gang planted a body, +not a fragment. Does it not strike you as very odd that the rest of +Henry Little is not to be found? It may be all right; but, of the two, I +incline to think it is a plan, and that some person, calling himself +the heir or assign of Little, will soon apply to the 'Gosshawk' for five +thousand pounds. Well, let him. I shall look on that person as the agent +of a living man, not the heir of a dead one; and I shall tell him I +don't believe in arms, and shoulders, and tweed suits, and plain gold +rings--(why, wedding-rings are the very things conjurors take from +the public at random to play hanky-panky with; they are so like one +another). I shall demand to see the man's face; and the mother who bore +him must identify that face before I will pay one shilling to his heirs +or assigns. I am waiting to see who will come forward and claim. Nobody +moves; and that is curious. Well, when they do, I shall be ready for +them. You look pale! But no wonder: it is really no subject for an +after-dinner conversation." + +Coventry was pale indeed, and his mind all in a whirl as to what he +should say; for Mr. Carden's sagacity terrified him, and the worst of it +was, he felt sure that Grace Carden heard every word. + +At last, however, his natural cunning came to his aid, and he made a +very artful speech, directed principally to his unseen hearer. + +"Mr. Carden," said he, "this seems to me very shrewd; but surely it +fails in one respect: you leave the man's character out of the account. +Mr. Little came between me and one I love, and inflicted great misery +on me; but I will try and be just to him. I don't believe he was an +impostor of that kind. He was false in love; he had been reared amongst +workmen, and every body says he loved a working-girl more than he did +your daughter; but as for his cheating you or any other person out of +five thousand pounds, I can't believe it. They all say he was as honest +a man in money matters as ever breathed." + +"You judge him by yourself. Besides, men begin by deceiving women, but +they go on to--Why, Grace, my poor child--Good heavens! have you--?" + +Grace was leaning against the open window, ghastly and terrible. + +"Yes," said she haughtily, "I have been guilty of the meanness of +listening, and I suffer for it. It is but one pang more to a broken +heart. Mr. Coventry, you are just, you are generous; and I will try and +reward you for those words. No, papa, no impostor, but a man sore tried, +sore tempted. If he is alive, we shall soon know." + +"How?" + +"He will write--TO JAEL DENCE." + +Having uttered this strange speech, she rushed away with a wild cry of +agony, and nobody saw her face again that night. + +She did not come down-stairs next day. Mr. Carden went up to her. He +stayed with her an hour, and came down looking much dejected; he asked +Mr. Coventry to take a turn in the garden with him. When they were +alone, he said, gravely, "Mr. Coventry, that unfortunate conversation of +ours has quite upset my poor girl. She tells me now she will not believe +he is dead until months and months have passed without his writing to +Jael Dence." + +"Well, but, sir," said Coventry, "could you not convince her?" + +"How can I, when I am myself convinced he is alive, and will give us a +great deal of trouble yet? for it is clear to me the poor girl loves him +more than she knows. Look here, Coventry, there's no man I so desire for +a son-in-law as yourself; you have shown a patience, a fidelity!--but +as a just man, and a man of honor, I must now advise you to give up +all thoughts of her. You are not doing yourself justice; she will never +marry you while that man is alive and unmarried. I am provoked with her: +she will not leave her room while you are in the house. Shall I tell you +what she said? 'I respect him, I admire him, but I can't bear the sight +of him now.' That is all because I let out last night that I thought +Little was alive. I told her, alive or not, he was dead to her." + +"And what did she say to that?" + +"Not a word. She wrung her hands, and burst out crying terribly. Ah! my +friend, may you never know what it is to be a father, and see your child +wring her hands, and cry her heart out, as I have seen mine." + +His own tears flowed, and his voice was choked. He faltered out, "We are +two miserable creatures; forgive us, and leave us to our fate." + +Coventry rose, sick at heart, and said, "Tell her I will not intrude +upon her." + +He telegraphed to Lally, and went back to Hillsborough as miserable as +those he left behind; but with this difference, he deserved his misery, +deserved it richly. + + +Ere he had been two days in Hillsborough a telegram came from him to Mr. +Carden: + +"Re Little. Important discovery. Pray come here at once." + +Mr. Carden had the prudence to withhold from Grace the nature of this +communication. He merely told her business called him suddenly to +Hillsborough. He started by the next train and found Mr. Coventry +awaiting him at "Woodbine Villa" with strange news: it was not +conjecture, nor a matter of deduction, but a piece of undeniable +evidence; and it knocked both Mr. Carden's theory and his daughter's to +atoms at one blow. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII. + + +Meantime the history of Raby House was the history of what French +dramatists call "a pious lie." + +Its indirect effect in keeping Grace Carden apart both from Mrs. Little +and Jael Dence was unforeseen and disastrous; its immediate and direct +effect on Mrs. Little was encouraging to those concerned; what with +the reconciliation to her brother, the return to native air and beloved +scenes, the tenderness and firmness of Jael Dence, and the conviction +that her son was safe out of the clutches of the dreaded Unions, she +picked up flesh and color and spirit weekly. + +By-and-by she turned round upon Jael Dence, and the nurse became the +pupil. Mrs. Little taught her grammar, pronunciation, dancing, carriage, +and deportment. Jael could already sing from notes; Mrs. Little taught +her to accompany herself on the pianoforte. The teacher was so vigilant, +and the pupil so apt and attentive, that surprising progress was made. +To be sure, they were together night and day. + +This labor of love occupied Mrs. Little's mind agreeably, and, as +the pupil was equally resolute in making the teacher walk or ride on +horseback with her every day, the hours glided swiftly, and, to Mrs. +Little, pleasantly. + +Her brother rather avoided her, by order of Jael Dence; but so many +probable reasons were given for his absences that she suspected nothing. +Only she said one day, "What a gad-about he is now. This comes of not +marrying. We must find him a wife." + +When he was at home they breakfasted together, all three, and then Mrs. +Little sometimes spoke of Henry, and so hopefully and cheerfully that a +great qualm ran through her hearers, and Raby, who could not command +his features so well as Jael could, looked gloomy, and sometimes retired +behind his newspaper. + +Mrs. Little observed this one day, and pointed it out to Jael. "Oh," +said Jael, "take no notice. You know he wanted Mr. Henry to stay quietly +here and be his heir." + +"And so did I. But his very name seems to--" + +"He likes him well, for all that, ma'am; only he won't own it yet. You +know what Squire is." + +"THE Squire you should say, dear. But, 'Mr. Raby' is better still. As a +rule, avoid all small titles: the doctor, the squire, the baronet, the +mayor." + +Jael seized this handle, and, by putting questions to her teacher, got +her away from the dangerous topic. + +Ever on the watch, and occupied in many ways with Mrs. Little, +Jael began to recover resignation; but this could not be without an +occasional paroxysm of grief. + +These she managed to hide from Mrs. Little. + +But one day that lady surprised her crying. She stood and looked at +her a moment, then sat down quietly beside her and took her hand. Jael +started, and feared discovery. + +"My child," said Mrs. Little, "if you have lost a father, you have +gained a mother; and then, as to your sister, why my Henry is gone to +the very same country; yet, you see, I do not give way to sorrow. As +soon as he writes, I will beg him to make inquiries for Patty, and send +them home if they are not doing well." Then Mrs. Little kissed Jael, +and coaxed her and rocked with her, and Jael's tears began to flow, no +longer for her own great grief, but for this mother, who was innocently +consoling her, unconscious of the blow that must one day fall upon +herself. + +So matters went on pretty smoothly; only one morning, speaking of Henry, +Mrs. Little surprised a look of secret intelligence between her brother +and Jael Dence. She made no remark at the time, but she puzzled in +secret over it, and began at last to watch the pair. + +She asked Raby at dinner, one day, when she might hope to hear from +Henry. + +"I don't know," said he, and looked at Jael Dence like a person watching +for orders. + +Mrs. Little observed this, and turned keenly round to Jael. + +"Oh," said Jael, "the doctor--I beg pardon, Dr. Amboyne--can tell you +that better than I can. It is a long way to Australia." + +"How you send me from one to another," said Mrs. Little, speaking very +slowly. + +They made no reply to that, and Mrs. Little said no more. But she +pondered all this. She wrote to Dr. Amboyne, and asked him why no letter +had come from Henry. + +Dr. Amboyne wrote back that, even if he had gone in a steamboat, +there was hardly time for a letter to come back: but he had gone in a +sailing-vessel. "Give him three months and a half to get there, and two +months for his letters to come back." + +In this same letter he told her he was glad to hear she was renewing her +youth like an eagle, but reminded her it would entail some consequences +more agreeable to him than to her. + +She laid down the letter with a blush and fell into a reverie. + +Dr. Amboyne followed up this letter with a visit or two, and urged her +to keep her promise and marry him. + +She had no excuse for declining, but she procrastinated: she did not +like to marry without consulting Henry, or, at least, telling him by +letter. + +And whilst she was thus temporizing, events took place at Eastbank which +ended by rudely disturbing the pious falsehood at Raby Hall. + +That sequence of events began with the interview between Mr. Carden and +Mr. Coventry at Woodbine Villa. + +"Little had made a will. My own solicitor drew it, and holds it at this +moment." This was the intelligence Coventry had to communicate. + +"Very well; then now I shall know who is coming to the 'Gosshawk' for +the five thousand pounds. That will be the next act of the comedy, you +will see." + +"Wait a moment. He leaves to Mrs. Little his own reversion to a sum of +nineteen hundred pounds, in which she has already the life interest; +he gives a hundred pounds to his sweetheart Dence: all the rest of his +estate, in possession or expectation, he bequeaths to--Miss Carden." + +"Good heavens! Why then--" Mr. Carden could say no more, for +astonishment. + +"So," said Coventry, "If he is alive, she is the confederate who is to +profit by the fraud; those five thousand pounds belong to her at this +moment." + +"Are you sure? Who is your authority?" + +"A communicative clerk, who happens to be the son of a tenant of mine. +The solicitor himself, I believe, chooses to doubt his client's decease. +It is at his private request that horrible object is refused Christian +burial." + +"On what grounds, pray?" + +"Legal grounds, I suppose; the man did not die regularly, and according +to precedent. He omitted to provide himself with two witnesses +previously to being blown up. In a case of this kind we may safely put +an old-fashioned attorney's opinion out of the question. What do YOU +think? That is all I care to know." + +"I don't know what to think now. But I foresee one thing: I shall be +placed in rather an awkward position. I ought to defend the 'Gosshawk;' +but I am not going to rob my own daughter of five thousand pounds, if it +belongs to her honestly." + +"Will you permit me to advise you?" + +"Certainly, I shall be very much obliged: for really I don't see my +way." + +"Well, then, I think you ought to look into the matter carefully, but +without prejudice. I have made some inquiries myself: I went down to the +works, and begged the workmen, who knew Little, to examine the remains, +and then come here and tell us their real opinion." + +"Oh, to my mind, it all depends on the will. If that answers the +description you give--hum!" Next morning they breakfasted together, and +during breakfast two workmen called, and, at Coventry's request, were +ushered into the room. They came to say they knew Mr. Little well, +and felt sure that was his dead hand they had seen at the Town +Hall. Coventry cross-examined them severely, but they stuck to their +conviction; and this will hardly surprise the reader when I tell him the +workmen in question were Cole and another, suborned by Coventry himself +to go through this performance. + +Mr. Carden received the testimony readily, for the best of all +reasons--he wanted to believe it. + +But, when they were gone, he recurred to the difficulty of his position. +Director of the "Gosshawk," and father to a young lady who had a claim +of five thousand pounds on it, and that claim debatable, though, to his +own mind, no longer doubtful. + +Now Mr. Coventry had a great advantage over Mr. Carden here: he had +studied this very situation profoundly for several hours, and at last +had seen how much might be done with it. + +He began by artfully complimenting Mr. Carden on his delicacy, but said +Miss Carden must not be a loser by it. "Convince her, on other grounds, +that the man is dead; encourage her to reward my devotion with her hand, +and I will relieve you of everything disagreeable. Let us settle on Miss +Carden, for her separate use, the five thousand pounds, and anything +else derivable from Mr. Little's estate; but we must also settle my farm +of Hindhope: for it shall never be said she took as much from that man +as she did from me. Well, in due course I apply to the 'Gosshawk' for +my wife's money. I am not bound to tell your Company it is not mine +but hers; that is between you and me. But you really ought to write to +London at once and withdraw the charge of fraud; you owe that piece of +justice to Miss Carden, and to the memory of the deceased." + +"That is true; and it will pave the way for the demand you propose to +make on Mrs. Coventry's behalf. Well, you really are a true friend, as +well as a true lover." + +In short, he went back to Hillsborough resolved to marry his daughter +to Coventry as soon as possible. Still, following that gentleman's +instructions, he withheld from Grace that Little had made a will in her +favor. He knew her to be quite capable of refusing to touch a farthing +of it, or to act as executrix. But he told her the workmen had +identified the remains, and that other circumstances had also convinced +him he had been unjust to a deceased person, which he regretted. + +When her father thus retracted his own words, away went Grace's last +faint hope that Henry lived; and now she must die for him, or live for +others. + +She thought of Jael Dance, and chose the latter. + +Another burst or two of agony, and then her great aim and study appeared +to be to forget herself altogether. She was full of attention for her +father, and, whenever Mr. Coventry came, she labored to reward him with +kind words, and even with smiles; but they were sad ones. + +As for Coventry, he saw, with secret exultation, that she was now too +languid and hopeless to resist the joint efforts of her father and +himself, and, that some day or other, she must fall lifeless into his +arms. + +He said to himself, "It is only a question of time." + +He was now oftener at the villa than at Hillsborough, and, with +remarkable self-denial, adhered steadily to the line of soothing and +unobtrusive devotion. + +One morning at breakfast the post brought him a large envelope from +Hillsborough. He examined it, and found a capital "L" in the corner of +the envelope, which "L" was written by his man Lally, in compliance with +secret instructions from his master. + +Coventry instantly put the envelope into his pocket, and his hand +began to shake so that he could hardly hold his cup to his lips. His +agitation, however, was not noticed. + +Directly after breakfast he strolled, with affected composure, into the +garden, and sat down in a bower where he was safe from surprise, as the +tangled leaves were not so thick but he could peep through them. + +He undid his inclosure, and found three letters; two were of no +importance; the third bore a foreign postmark, and was addressed to +Miss Carden in a hand writing which he recognized at a glance as Henry +Little's. + +But as this was not the first letter from Henry to Grace which he had +intercepted and read, perhaps I had better begin by saying a few words +about the first. + +Well, then, the letters with which Coventry swam the river on the night +of the explosion were six, viz., to Mr. Bolt, to Doctor Amboyne, to Mr. +Baynes, to Jael Dence, to Mrs. Little, and to Grace Carden. The +letter to Grace Carden was short but touching, full of devotion, hope, +resolution, and grief at parting. He told her he had come to take leave +that afternoon, but she had been out, luckily; for he felt he ought to +go, and must go, but how could he look at her and then leave her? This +was the general purport, and expressed with such anguish and fortitude +as might have melted a heart of marble. + +The reader may have observed that, upon his rival's disappearance, +Coventry was no happier. This letter was the secret cause. First it +showed him his rival was alive, and he had wasted a crime; secondly, +it struck him with remorse, yet not with penitence; and to be full of +remorse, yet empty of that true penitence which confesses or undoes the +wrong, this is to be miserable. + +But, as time rolled on, bringing the various events I have related, but +no news of Little, Coventry began to think that young man must really +have come to some untimely end. + +From this pleasant dream he was now awakened by the second intercepted +letter. It ran thus: + + +"BOSTON, U. S., June 20th. + +"MY OWN DEAR LOVE,--It is now nine weeks since I left England, and this +will be a fortnight more getting to you; that is a long time for you +to be without news from me, and I sadly fear I have caused you great +anxiety. Dearest, it all happened thus: Our train was delayed by an +accident, and I reached Liverpool just in time to see the steam-packet +move down the Mersey. My first impulse, of course, was to go back to +Hillsborough; but a seaman, who saw my vexation, told me a fast schooner +was on the point of sailing for Boston, U.S. My heart told me if I went +back to Hillsborough, I should never make the start again. I summoned +all my manhood to do the right thing for us both; and I got into the +schooner, heaven knows how; and, when I got there, I hid my face for +ever so many hours, till, by the pitching and tossing, I knew that I was +at sea. Then I began to cry and blubber. I couldn't hold it any longer. + +"At such a time a kind word keeps the heart from breaking altogether; +and I got some comfort from an old gentleman, a native of Boston: a +grave old man he was, and pretty reserved with all the rest; but seeing +me in the depths of misery, he talked to me like a father, and I told +him all my own history, and a little about you too--at least, how I +loved you, and why I had left England with a heavy heart. + +"We had a very long passage, not downright tempestuous, but contrary +winds, and a stiff gale or two. Instead of twenty days, as they +promised, we were six weeks at sea, and what with all the fighting and +the threats--I had another letter signed with a coffin just before I +left that beautiful town--and the irritation at losing so much time +on the ocean, it all brought on a fever, and I have no recollection of +leaving the boat. When I came to myself, I was in a house near Boston, +belonging to the old gentleman I spoke of. He and his nieces nursed me, +and now I am as well as ever, only rather weak. + +"Mr. Ironside, that is his name, but it should be Mr. Goldheart, if I +had the christening of him--he has been my good Samaritan. Dear Grace, +please pray for him and his family every night. He tells me he comes of +the pilgrim fathers, so he is bound to feel for pilgrims and wanderers +from home. Well, he has been in patents a little, and, before I lost +my little wits with the fever, he and I had many a talk. So now he is +sketching out a plan of operation for me, and I shall have to travel +many a hundred miles in this vast country. But they won't let me move +till I am a little stronger, he and his nieces. If he is gold, they are +pearls. + +"Dearest, it has taken me two days to write this: but I am very happy +and hopeful, and do not regret coming. I am sure it was the right thing +for us both. + +"Please say something kind for me to the good doctor, and tell him I +have got over this one trouble already. + +"Dearest, I agreed to take so much a year from Bolt, and he must fight +the trades alone. Such a life is not worth having. Bayne won't wrong me +of a shilling. Whatever he makes, over his salary and the men's wages, +there it will be for me when I come home; so I write to no one at +Hillsborough but you. Indeed, you are my all in this world. I travel, +and fight, and work, and breathe, and live for you, my own beloved; and +if any harm came to you, I wouldn't care to live another moment." + + +At this point in the letter the reader stopped, and something cold +seemed to pass all through his frame. It struck him that all good men +would pity the writer of this letter, and abhor him who kept it from +that pale, heart-broken girl inside the cottage. + +He sat freezing, with the letter in his hand, and began to doubt whether +he could wade any deeper in crime. + +After a minute or two he raised his head, and was about to finish +reading the letter. + +But, in the meantime, Grace Carden had resumed her accustomed place in +the veranda. She lay upon the couch, and her pale face, and hollow, but +still beautiful eyes, were turned seaward. Out of those great sad eyes +the sad soul looked across the waste of waters--gazed, and searched, and +pined in vain. Oh, it was a look to make angels weep, and hover close +over her head with restless, loving pinions, longing to shadow, caress, +and heal her! + +Coventry, with Henry Little's letter in his hand, peered through the +leaves, and saw the woman he loved fix this look of despair upon the +sea--despair of which he was the sole cause, and could dispel it with a +gesture. + + +"And this brings me back to what is my only great trouble now. I told +you, in the letter I left behind me, you would hear from me in a month +at furthest. It will be not a month, but eleven weeks. Good heavens! +when I think what anxiety you may have suffered on my account! You know +I am a pupil of the good doctor, and so I put myself in your place, +and I say to myself, 'If my Grace had promised to write in a month, and +eleven weeks had passed without a word, what would my feelings be?' Why, +I think I should go mad; I should make sure you were ill; I should fear +you were dead; I should fancy every terrible thing on earth, except that +you were false to your poor Henry. That I should never fear: I judge you +by myself. Fly, steamboat, with this letter to my love, and set her mind +at ease. Fly back with a precious word from her dear hand, and with that +in my bosom, nothing will ever daunt me. + +"God bless you! angel of my life, darling of my heart, star on which all +my hopes are fixed! Oh, what miserable bad tools words are! When I look +at them, and compare them with how I love you, I seem to be writing +that I love you no more than other people love. What I feel is so much +greater than words. + +"Must I say farewell? Even on paper, it is like tearing myself away from +heaven again. But that was to be: and now this is to be. Good-by, my own +beloved. + +"Yours till death, HENRY." + + +Coventry read this sentence by sentence, still looking up, nearly every +sentence, at her to whom it was addressed. + +The letter pleaded on his knee, the pale face pleaded a few yards off; +he sat between the two bleeding lovers, their sole barrier and bane. + +His heart began to fail him. The mountain of crime looked high. Now +remorse stung him deeper than ever; jealousy spurred him harder than +ever; a storm arose within his breast, a tempest of conflicting passion, +as grand and wild as ever distracted the heart; as grand and wild as +any poet has ever tried to describe, and, half succeeding, won immortal +fame. + +"See what I can do?" whispered conscience. "With one bound I can give +her the letter, and bring the color back to that cheek and joy to that +heart. She will adore me for it, she will be my true and tender friend +till death. She will weep upon my neck and bless me." + +"Ay," whispered jealousy, "and then she will marry Henry Little." + +"And am I sure to succeed if I persist in crime? Deserve her hatred and +contempt, and is it certain they will not both fall on me?" + +"The fault began with them. He supplanted me--she jilted me. I hate +him--I love her. I can't give her up now; I have gone too far. What is +intercepting a letter? I have been too near murder to stop at that." + +"But her pale face! her pale face!" + +"Once married, supplant him as he has supplanted you. Away to Italy with +her. Fresh scenes--constant love--the joys of wedlock! What will this +Henry Little be to her then?--a dream." + +"Eternal punishment; if it is not a fable, who has ever earned it better +than I am earning it if I go on?" + +"It IS a fable; it must be. Philosophers always said so, and now even +divines have given it up." + +"Her pale face! her pale face! Never mind HIM, look at her. What sort of +love is this that shows no pity? Oh, my poor girl, don't look so sad--so +pale! What shall I do? Would to God I had never been born, to torture +myself and her!" + +His good angel fought hard for him that day; fought and struggled +and hoped, until the miserable man, torn this way and that, ended the +struggle with a blasphemous yell by tearing the letter to atoms. + +That fatal act turned the scale. + +The next moment he wished he had not done it. + +But it was too late. He could not go to her with the fragments. She +would see he had intercepted it purposely. + +Well, all the better. It was decided. He would not look at her face any +more. He could not bear it. + +He rushed away from the bower and made for the seaside; but he soon +returned another way, gained his own room, and there burnt the fragments +of the letter to ashes. + +But, though he was impenitent, remorse was not subdued. He could not +look Grace Carden in the face now. So he sent word he must go back to +Hillsborough directly. + +He packed his bag and went down-stairs with it. + +On the last landing he met Grace Carden. She started a little. + +"What! going away?" + +"Yes, Miss Carden." + +"No bad news, I hope?" said she, kindly. + +The kindly tone coming from her, to whom he had shown no mercy, went +through that obdurate heart. + +"No--no," he faltered; "but the sight of your unhappiness--Let me go. I +am a miserable man!" + +And with this he actually burst out crying and ran past her. + +Grace told her father, and asked him to find out what was the matter +with Mr. Coventry. + +Mr. Carden followed Coventry to the station, and Coventry, who had now +recovered his self-possession and his cunning, told him that for some +time Miss Carden had worn a cheerful air, which had given him hopes; but +this morning, watching her from a bower in the garden, he had seen such +misery in her face that it had quite upset him; and he was going away to +try and recover that composure, without which he felt he would be no use +to her in any way. + +This tale Carden brought back to his daughter, and she was touched by +it. "Poor Mr. Coventry!" said she. "Why does he waste so much love on +me?" + +Her father, finding her thus softened, pleaded hard for his friend, +and reminded Grace that she had not used him well. She admitted that at +once, and went so far as to say that she felt bound never to marry +any one but Mr. Coventry, unless time should cure him, as she hoped it +would, of his unfortunate attachment. + +From this concession Mr. Carden urged her daily to another, viz., that +Mr. Coventry might be permitted to try and win her affection. + +Her answer was, "He had much better content himself with what I can and +do give him--my esteem and gratitude and sincere pity." + +Mr. Carden, however, persisted, and the deep affection he had shown +his daughter gave him great power. It was two against one; and the two +prevailed. + +Mr. Coventry began to spend his whole time at Eastbank Cottage. + +He followed Grace about with a devotion to which no female heart could +be entirely insensible; and, at last, she got used to him, and rather +liked to have him about her. He broke her solitude as a dog does, and he +fetched and carried for her, and talked when she was inclined to listen, +and was silent when he saw his voice jarred upon her bereaved heart. + +Without her father, matters might have gone on so for years; but Mr. +Carden had now so many motives for marrying his daughter to Coventry, +that he used all his judgment and all his influence. He worked on his +daughter's pride, her affection, her sense of honor, and her sense of +duty. + +She struggled, she sighed, she wept; but, by little and little, she +submitted. And, since three months more passed with no striking event, +I will deviate from my usual custom and speak a little of what passed in +her mind. + +First of all, then, she was so completely deceived by appearances, that +she believed the exact opposite of the truth in each particular. To her +not only did black seem white, but white black. Her dead lover had given +her but half his heart. Her living lover was the soul of honor and true +devotion. It was her duty, though not her pleasure, to try and love him; +to marry him would be a good and self-denying action. + +And what could she lose by it? Her own chance of happiness was gone. +All she could hope for hereafter was the gentle satisfaction that arises +from making others happy. She had but a choice of evils: never to marry +at all, or to marry Frederick Coventry. + +Thus far she was conscious of her own feelings, and could, perhaps, have +put them into words; but here she drifted out of her depth. + +Nature implants in women a genuine love of offspring that governs +them unconsciously. It governs the unconscious child; it governs the +half-conscious mother who comes home from the toyshop with a waxen child +for her girl, and a drum for her boy. + +Men desire offspring---when they desire it at all--from vanity alone. +Women desire it from pure love of it. + +This instinct had probably its share in withholding Grace from making +up her mind never to marry; and so operated negatively, though not +positively, in Coventry's favor. + +And so, by degrees and in course of time, after saying "no" a dozen +times, she said "yes" once in a moment of utter lassitude, and afterward +she cried and wished to withdraw her consent, but they were two to one, +and had right on their side, she thought. + +They got her to say she would marry him some day or other. + + +Coventry intercepted several letters, but he took care not to read them +with Grace's sad face in sight. He would not give conscience such a +power to torment him. The earlier letters gave him a cruel satisfaction. +They were written each from a different city in the United States, and +all tended to show that the writer had a year or two to travel yet, +before he could hope to return home in triumph and marry his Grace. + +In all these letters she was requested to send her answers to New York +(and, now I think of it, there was a postscript to that effect in the +very letter I have given in extenso). + +But at last came a letter that disturbed this delightful dream. It was +written from the western extremity of the States, but the writer was +in high spirits; he had sold his patents in two great cities, and had +established them in two more on a royalty; he had also met with an +unexpected piece of good fortune: his railway clip had been appreciated, +a man of large capital and enterprise had taken it up with spirit, and +was about to purchase the American and Canadian right for a large sum +down and a percentage. As soon as this contract should be signed he +should come home and claim Mr. Carden's promise. He complained a little +that he got no letters, but concluded the post-office authorities +were in fault, for he had written to New York to have them forwarded. +However, he soon should be in that city and revel in them. + +This troubled Coventry, and drove him to extremities. He went on his +knees to Grace, and implored her to name the day. + +She drew back with horror and repugnance; said, with a burst of tears, +she was a widow, and would not marry till a decent time had elapsed +since--; then, with sudden doggedness, "I will never marry at all." + +And so she left him to repent his precipitation. + +He was at his wits' end, and could do nothing but look unhappy, and +temporize, and hope the wind might change. + +The wind did not change, and he passed a week or two of outward sorrow, +but inward rage. + +He fell ill, and Mr. Carden pitied him openly. + +Grace maintained a sullen silence. + +One day, as he was in bed, an envelope was brought him, with a large +"L." He opened it slowly, fearing the worst. + +The letter was full of love, and joy, and triumph that made the reader's +heart faint within him till he came to this sentence: + + +"The gentleman who treats with me for the railway clip makes it an +express stipulation that I shall spend a month in his works at Chicago, +superintending the forging and perfecting of the clip. As he intends +to be there himself, and to buy it out-and-out if it answers his +expectations, I shall certainly go, and wear a smith's apron once +more for your sake. He is even half inclined to go into another of +my projects--the forging of large axes by machinery. It was tried at +Hillsborough two years ago, but the Union sent a bullet through the +manufacturer's hat, and he dropped it." + + +The letter from which I give this extract was a reprieve. He had five or +six weeks before him still. + +Soon after this, his faithful ally, Mr. Carden, worked on Grace's pity; +and as Coventry never complained, nor irritated her in any way, she +softened to him. Then all the battery of imploring looks was brought +to bear on her by Coventry, and of kind admonition and entreaty by her +father; and so, between them, they gently thrust her down the slope. + +"Stop all their tongues," said Mr. Carden. "Come back to Hillsborough +a wife. I gave up my choice to yours once. Now give me my way. I am +touched to the heart by this young man's devotion: he invites me to live +with him when you are married. What other young fellow would show me so +much mercy?" + +"Does he?" said Grace. "I will try and reward him for that, and for +speaking well of one who could not defend himself. But give me a little +time." + +Mr. Carden conveyed this to Coventry with delight, and told him he +should only have another month or so to wait. Coventry received this +at first with unmixed exultation, but by-and-by he began to feel +superstitious. Matters were now drawing to such a point that Little +might very well arrive before the wedding-day, and just before it. +Perhaps Heaven had that punishment in store for him; the cup was to be +in his very grasp, and then struck out of it. + +Only a question of time! But what is every race? The space between +winner and loser strikes the senses more obviously; but the race is +just as much a question of time as of space. Buridan runs second for the +Derby, defeated by a length. But give Buridan a start of one second, and +he shall beat the winner--by two lengths. + +Little now wrote from Chicago that every thing was going on favorably, +and he believed it would end in a sale of the patent clip in the United +States and Canada for fifty thousand dollars, but no royalty. + +This letter was much shorter than any of the others; and, from that +alone, his guilty reader could see that the writer intended to follow it +in person almost immediately. + +Coventry began almost to watch the sun in his course. When it was +morning he wished it was evening, and when it was evening he wished it +was morning. + +Sometimes he half wondered to see how calmly the sun rose and set, and +Nature pursued her course, whilst he writhed in the agony of suspense, +and would gladly have given a year out of his life for a day. + +At last, by Mr. Carden's influence, the wedding-day was fixed. But soon +after this great triumph came another intercepted letter. He went to his +room and his hands trembled violently as he opened it. + +His eye soon fixed on this passage: + + +"I thought to be in New York by this time, and looking homeward; but I +am detained by another piece of good-fortune, if any thing can be called +good-fortune that keeps me a day from you. Oh, my dear Grace, I am dying +to see your handwriting at new York, and then fly home and see your dear +self, and never, never quit you more. I have been wonderfully lucky; I +have made my fortune, our fortune. But it hardly pays me for losing the +sight of you so many months. But what I was going to tell you is, that +my method of forging large axes by machinery is wonderfully praised, +and a great firm takes it up on fair terms. This firm has branches in +various parts of the world, and, once my machines are in full work, +Hillsborough will never forge another ax. Man can not suppress +machinery; the world is too big. That bullet sent through Mr. Tyler's +hat loses Great Britain a whole trade. I profit in money by their +short-sighted violence, but I must pay the price; for this will keep me +another week at Chicago, perhaps ten days. Then home I come, with lots +of money to please your father, and an ocean of love for you, who don't +care about the filthy dross; no more do I, except as the paving-stones +on the road to you and heaven, my adored one." + + +The effect of this letter was prodigious. So fearful had been the +suspense, so great was now the relief, that Coventry felt exultant, +buoyant. He went down to the sea-side, and walked, light as air, by the +sands, and his brain teemed with delightful schemes. Little would come +to Hillsborough soon after the marriage, but what of that? + +On the wedding-night he would be at Dover. Next day at Paris, on his way +to Rome, Athens, Constantinople. The inevitable exposure should never +reach his wife until he had so won her, soul and body, that she should +adore him for the crimes he had committed to win her--he knew the female +heart to be capable of that. + +He came back from his walk another man, color in his cheek and fire in +his eye. + +He walked into the drawing-room, and found Mr. Raby, with his hat on, +just leaving Grace, whose eyes showed signs of weeping. + +"I wish you joy, sir," said Raby. "I am to have the honor of being at +your wedding." + +"It will add to my happiness, if possible," said Coventry. + +To be as polite in deed as in word, he saw Mr. Raby into the fly. + +"Curious creatures, these girls," said Raby, shrugging his shoulders. + +"She was engaged to me long ago," said Coventry, parrying the blow. + +"Ah! I forgot that. Still--well, well; I wish you joy." + +He went off, and Coventry returned to Grace. She was seated by the +window looking at the sea. + +"What did godpapa say to you?" + +"Oh, he congratulated me. He reminded me you and I were first engaged at +his house." + +"Did he tell you it is to be at Woodbine Villa?" + +"What?" + +"The wedding." And Grace blushed to the forehead at having to mention +it. + +"No, indeed, he did not mention any such thing, or I should have shown +him how unadvisable--" + +"You mistake me. It is I who wish to be married from my father's house +by good old Dr. Fynes. He married my parents, and he christened me, and +now he shall marry me." + +"I approve that, of course, since you wish it; but, my own dearest +Grace, Woodbine Villa is associated with so many painful memories--let +me advise, let me earnestly entreat you, not to select it as the place +to be married from. Dr. Fynes can be invited here." + +"I have set my heart on it," said Grace. "Pray do not thwart me in it." + +"I should be very sorry to thwart you in any thing. But, before you +finally decide, pray let me try and convince your better judgment." + +"I HAVE decided; and I have written to Dr. Fynes, and to the few persons +I mean to invite. They can't all come here; and I have asked Mr. Raby; +and it is my own desire; and it is one of those things the lady and her +family always decide. I have no wish to be married at all. I only marry +to please my father and you. There, let us say no more about it, please. +I will not be married at Woodbine Villa, nor anywhere else. I wish papa +and you would show your love by burying me instead." + +These words, and the wild panting way they were uttered in, brought +Coventry to his knees in a moment. He promised her, with abject +submission, that she should have her own way in this and every thing. +He petted her, and soothed her, and she forgave him, but so little +graciously, that he saw she would fly out in a moment again, if the +least attempt were made to shake her resolution. + +Grace talked the matter over with Mr. Carden, and that same evening he +begged Coventry to leave the Villa as soon as he conveniently could, for +he and his daughter must be there a week before the wedding, and invite +some relations, whom it was his interest to treat with respect. + +"You will spare me a corner," said Coventry, in his most insinuating +tone. "Dear Woodbine! I could not bear to leave it." + +"Oh, of course you can stay there till we actually come; but we can't +have the bride and bridegroom under one roof. Why, my dear fellow, you +know better than that." + +There was no help for it. It sickened him with fears of what might +happen in those few fatal days, during which Mr. Carden, Grace herself, +and a household over which he had no control, would occupy the house, +and would receive the Postman, whose very face showed him incorruptible. + +He stayed till the last moment; stopped a letter of five lines from +Little, in which he said he should be in New York very soon, en route +for England; and the very next day he received the Cardens, with a +smiling countenance and a fainting heart, and then vacated the premises. +He ordered Lally to hang about the Villa at certain hours when the post +came in, and do his best. But his was catching at a straw. His real hope +was that neither Little himself, nor a letter in his handwriting, might +come in that short interval. + +It wanted but five days to the wedding. + +Hitherto it had been a game of skill, now it was a game of chance; and +every morning he wished it was evening, every evening he wished it was +morning. + +The day Raby came back from Eastbank he dined at home, and, in an +unguarded moment, said something or other, on which Mrs. Little +cross-examined him so swiftly and so keenly that he stammered, and let +out Grace Carden was on the point of marriage. + +"Marriage, while my son is alive!" said Mrs. Little, and looked from +him to Jael Dence, at first with amazement, and afterward with a strange +expression that showed her mind was working. + +A sort of vague alarm fell upon the other two, and they waited, in utter +confusion, for what might follow. + +But the mother was not ready to suspect so horrible a thing as her son's +death. She took a more obvious view, and inveighed bitterly against +Grace Carden. + +She questioned Raby as to the cause, but it was Jael who answered her. +"I believe nobody knows the rights of it but Miss Carden herself." + +"The cause is her utter fickleness; but she never really loved him. My +poor Henry!" + +"Oh yes, she did," said Raby. "She was at death's door a few months +ago." + +"At death's door for one man, and now going to marry another!" + +"Why not?" said Raby, hard pushed; "she is a woman." + +"And why did you not tell me till now?" asked Mrs. Little, loftily +ignoring her brother's pitiable attempt at a sneer. + +Raby's reply to this was happier. + +"Why, what the better are you for knowing it now? We had orders not to +worry you unnecessarily. Had we not, Jael?" + +"That is all very well, in some things. But, where my son is concerned, +pray never keep the truth from me again. When did she break off with +Henry--or did he quarrel with her?" + +"I have no idea. I was not in the country." + +"Do YOU know, dear?" + +"No, Mrs. Little. But I am of your mind. I think she could not have +loved Mr. Henry as she ought." + +"When did you see her last?" + +"I could not say justly, but it was a long while ago." + +Mrs. Little interpreted this that Jael had quarreled with Grace for her +fickleness, and gave her a look of beaming affection; then fell into a +dead silence, and soon tears were seen stealing down her cheek. + +"But I shall write to her," said she, after a long and painful silence. + +Mr. Raby hoped she would do nothing of the kind. + +"Oh, I shall not say much. I shall put her one question. Of course SHE +knows why they part." + +Next morning Jael Dence asked Mr. Raby whether the threatened letter +must be allowed to go. + +"Of course it must," said Raby. "I have gone as far off the straight +path as a gentleman can. And I wish we may not repent our ingenuity. +Deceive a mother about her son! what can justify it, after all?" + +Mrs. Little wrote her letter, and showed it to Jael: + + +"DEAR MISS CARDEN,--They tell me you are about to be married. Can this +be true, and Henry Little alive?" + + +An answer came back, in due course. + + +"DEAR MRS. LITTLE,--It is true, and I am miserable. Forgive me, and +forget me." + + +Mrs. Little discovered the marks of tears upon the paper, and was sorely +puzzled. + +She sat silent a long time: then looking up, she saw Jael Dence gazing +at her with moist eyes, and an angelic look of anxiety and affection. + +She caught her round the neck, and kissed her, almost passionately. + +"All the better," she cried, struggling with a sob. "I shall have my own +way for once. You shall be my daughter instead." + +Jael returned her embrace with ardor, but in silence, and with averted +head. + + +When Jael Dence heard that Grace Carden was in Hillsborough, she felt +very much drawn to go and see her: but she knew the meeting must be a +sad one to them both; and that made her put it off till the very day +before the wedding. Then, thinking it would be too unkind if she held +entirely aloof, and being, in truth, rather curious to know whether +Grace had really been able to transfer her affections in so short a +time, she asked Mr. Raby's leave, and drove one of the ponies in to +Woodbine Villa. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX. + + +The short interval previous to the wedding-day passed, to all +appearance, as that period generally does. Settlements were drawn, +and only awaited signature. The bride seemed occupied with dress, and +receiving visits and presents, and reading and writing letters of that +sort which ought to be done by machinery. + +The bridegroom hovered about the house, running in and out on this or +that pretext. + +She received his presence graciously, read him the letters of her female +friends, and forced herself to wear a look of languid complacency, +especially before others. + +Under all this routine she had paroxysms of secret misery, and he was in +tortures. + +These continued until the eve of the wedding, and then he breathed +freely. No letter had come from the United States, and to-morrow was the +wedding-day. The chances were six to one no letter came that day, and, +even if one should, he had now an excuse ready for keeping Lally on +the premises that particular morning. At one o'clock he would be flying +south with his bride. + +He left the villa to dress for dinner. During this interval Jael Dence +called. + +The housemaid knocked at Grace's door--she was dressing--and told her +Jael wished to see her. + +Grace was surprised, and much disturbed. It flashed on her in a moment +that this true and constant lover of Henry Little had come to enjoy her +superiority. She herself had greatly desired this meeting once, but now +it could only serve to mortify her. The very thought that this young +woman was near her set her trembling; but she forced herself to appear +calm, and, turning to her maid, said, "Tell her I can see no one +to-day." + +The lady's maid gave this message to the other servant, and she went +down-stairs with it. + +The message, however, had not been gone long when the desire to put a +question to Jael Dence returned strongly upon Grace Carden. + +She yielded to an uncontrollable impulse, and sent her maid down to say +that she would speak to Jael Dence, in her bedroom, the last thing at +night. + +"The last thing at night!" said Jael, coloring with indignation; "and +where am I to find a bed after that?" + +"Oh," said the late footman, now butler, "you shall not leave the house. +I'll manage that for you with the housekeeper." + +At half-past eleven o'clock that night Grace dismissed her maid, and +told her to bring Jael Dence to her. + +Jael came, and they confronted each other once more. + +"You can go," said Grace to the maid. + +They were alone, and eyed each other strangely. + +"Sit down," said Grace, coldly. + +"No, thank you," said Jael, firmly. "I shall not stay long after the way +I have been received." + +"And how do you expect to be received?" + +"As I used to be. As a poor girl who once saved HIS life, and nearly +lost her own, through being his true and faithful servant." + +"Faithful to him, but not to me." + +Jael's face showed she did not understand this. + +"Yes," said Grace, bitterly, "you are the real cause of my marrying Mr. +Coventry, whom I don't love, and never can love. There, read that. I +can't speak to you. You look all candor and truth, but I know what you +are: all the women in that factory knew about you and him--read that." +She handed her the anonymous letter, and watched her like an eagle. + +Jael read the poison, and colored a little, but was not confounded. + +"Do you believe this, Miss Carden?" + +"I did not believe it at first, but too many people have confirmed it. +Your own conduct has confirmed it, my poor girl. This is cruel of me." + +"Never mind," said Jael, resolutely. "We have gone too far to stop. My +conduct! What conduct, if you please?" + +"They all say that, when you found he was no more, you attempted +self-destruction." + +"Ah," cried Jael, like a wounded hare; "they must tell you that!" and +she buried her face in her hands. + +Now this was a young woman endowed by nature with great composure, and +a certain sobriety and weight; so, when she gave way like that, it +produced a great effect on those who knew her. + +Grace sighed, and was distressed. But there was no help for it now. +She awaited Jael's reply, and Jael could not speak for some time. She +conquered her agitation, however, at last, and said, in a low voice, +"Suppose you had a sister, whom you loved dearly--and then you had a +quarrel with her, and neither of you much to blame, the fault lay with +a third person; and suppose you came home suddenly and found that +sister had left England in trouble, and gone to the other end of the +world--would not that cut you to the heart?" + +"Indeed it would. How correctly you speak. Now who has been teaching +you?" + +"Mrs. Little." + +"Ah!" + +"You HAVE a father. Suppose you left him for a month, and then came back +and found him dead and buried--think of that--buried!" + +"Poor girl!" + +"And all this to fall on a poor creature just off a sick-bed, and +scarcely right in her head. When I found poor Mr. Henry was dead, and +you at death's door, I crawled home for comfort, and there I found +desolation: my sister gone across the sea, my father in the churchyard. +I wandered about all night, with my heavy heart and distraught brain, +and at last they found me in the river. They may say I threw myself +in, but it is my belief I swooned away and fell in. I wouldn't swear, +though, for I remember nothing of it. What does it prove against me?" + +"Not much, indeed, by itself. But they all say you were shut up with him +for hours." + +"And that is true; ten hours, every day. He was at war with these +trades, and his own workmen had betrayed him. He knew I was as strong +as a man at some kinds of work--of course I can't strike blows, and hurt +people like a man--so he asked me, would I help him grind saws with his +machine on the sly--clandestinely, I mean. Well, I did, and very easy +work it was--child's play to me that had wrought on a farm. He gave me +six pounds a week for it. That's all the harm we did together; and, as +for what we said, let me tell you a first-rate workman, like poor Mr. +Henry, works very silently; that is where they beat us women. I am sure +we often ground a dozen saws, and not a word, except upon the business. +When we did talk, it was sure to be about you. Poor lad, the very last +time we wrought together, I mind he said, 'Well done, Jael, that's good +work; it brings me an inch nearer HER.' And I said, All the better, +and I'd give him another hour or two every day if he liked. That very +evening I took him his tea at seven o'clock. He was writing letters; one +was to you. He was just addressing it. 'Good-night, Jael,' said he. 'You +have been a good friend to her and me.'" + +"Oh! did he say that? What became of that letter?" + +"Upon my soul, he did; ay, and it was his last word to me in this world. +But you are not of his mind, it seems. The people in the factory! I know +they used to say we were sweethearts. You can't wonder at that; they +didn't know about you, nor any of our secrets; and, of course, vulgar +folk like them could not guess the sort of affection I had for poor Mr. +Henry; but a lady like you should not go by their lights. Besides, I was +always open with you. Once I had a different feeling for him: did I hide +it from you? When I found he loved you, I set to work to cure myself. I +did cure myself before your very eyes; and, after that, you ought to +be ashamed of yourself to go and doubt me. There, now, I have made her +cry." + +Her own voice faltered a moment, and she said, with gentle dignity, +"Well, I forgive you, for old kindness past; but I shall not sleep under +this roof now. God bless you, and give you many happy days yet with this +gentleman you are going to marry. Farewell." + +She was actually going; but Grace caught her by the arm. "No, no, you +shall not leave me so." + +"Ay, but I will." And Jael's eyes, so mild in general, began to sparkle +with anger, at being detained against her will; but, generous to the +last, she made no use of her great strength to get clear from Grace. + +"You will not go, if you are the woman you were. I believe your words, +I believe your honest face, I implore your forgiveness. I am the most +miserable creature in this world. Pray do not abandon me." + +This appeal, made with piteous gestures and streaming eyes, overpowered +Jael Dence, and soon they were seated, rocking together, and Grace +pouring out her heart. + +Jael then learned, to her dismay, that Grace's belief in Henry's +falsehood was a main cause of this sudden marriage. Had she believed her +Henry true, she would have mourned him, as a widow, two years at least. + +The unhappy young lady lamented her precipitation, and the idea of +marrying Mr. Coventry to-morrow became odious to her. She asked Jael +wildly whether she should not be justified in putting an end to her +life. + +Jael consoled her all she could; and, at her request, slept in the same +bed with her. Indeed she was afraid to leave her; for she was wild at +times, and said she would prefer to be married to that dead hand people +said was at the Town hall, and then thrown into one grave with it. +"That's the bridal I long for," said she. + +In the morning she was calmer, and told Jael she thought she was doing +right. + +"I shall be neither more nor less wretched for marrying this poor man," +said she: "and I shall make two people happy; two people that deserve +the sacrifice I make." + +So, after all, the victim went calmly. + +Early in the morning came a letter from Dr. Fynes. He was confined by +gout, and sorry to say the ceremony he had hoped to perform must be done +by his curate. + +Now this curate was quite a stranger to Grace, and indeed to most people +in Hillsborough. Dr. Fynes himself knew nothing about him except that he +had come in answer to his inquiry for a curate, had brought good letters +of recommendation, and had shown himself acquainted with the learned +doctor's notes to Apollonius Rhodius; on which several grounds the +doctor, who was himself a better scholar than a priest, had made him +his curate, and had heard no complaints, except from a few puritanical +souls. These he looked on as barbarians, and had calmly ignored them and +their prejudices ever since he transferred his library from St. John's +College, Cambridge, to St. Peter's Rectory, and that was thirty years +ago. + +This sudden substitute of an utter stranger for Dr. Fynes afflicted +Grace Carden not a little, and her wedding-day began with a tear or two +on that account. But, strange as it may appear, she lived to alter her +mind, and to thank and bless Mr. Beresford for taking her old friend's +place on that great occasion. + +But while the bride dressed for church, and her bridemaids and friends +drove up, events were taking place to deal with which I must retrograde +a step. + +Jael Dence having gone to Woodbine Villa, Mrs. Little and her brother +dined tete-a-tete; and the first question she asked was, "Why where is +Jael?" + +"Don't you know? gone to Woodbine Villa. The wedding is to-morrow." + +"What, my Jael gone to that girl's wedding!" And her eyes flashed with +fire. + +"Why not? I am going to it myself." + +"I am sorry to hear you say so--very sorry." + +"Why, she is my godchild. Would you have me affront her?" + +"If she is your godchild, Henry is your nephew." + +"Of course, and I did all I could to marry him to Grace; but, you see, +he would be wiser than me." + +"Dear Guy, my poor Henry was to blame for not accepting your generous +offer; but that does not excuse this heartless, fickle girl." + +Raby's sense of justice began to revolt. "My dear Edith, I can't bear +to hear you speak so contemptuously of this poor girl, who has so nearly +died for love of your son. She is one of the noblest, purest, most +unselfish creatures I ever knew. Why judge so hastily? But that is the +way with you ladies; it must be the woman who is in the wrong. Men are +gods, and women devils; that is your creed." + +"Is HENRY going to marry another?" + +"Not that I know of." + +"Then what excuse can there be for her conduct? Does wrong become right, +when this young lady does it? It is you who are prejudiced, not I. Her +conduct is without excuse. I have written to her: she has replied, and +has offered me no excuse. 'Forgive me,' she says, 'and forget me.' I +shall never forgive her; and you must permit me to despise her for a few +years before I forget her." + +"Well, don't excite yourself so. My poor Edith, some day or other +you will be sorry you ever said a word against that amiable and most +unfortunate girl." + +He said this so sadly and solemnly that Mrs. Little's anger fell +directly, and they both sat silent a long time. + +"Guy," said Mrs. Little, "tell me the truth. Has my son done anything +wrong--anything rash? It was strange he should leave England without +telling me. He told Dr. Amboyne. Oh, there is some mystery here. If I +did not know you so well, I should say there is some deceit going on +in this house. There IS--You hang your head. I cannot bear to give you +pain, so I will ask you no more questions. But--" + +There was a world of determination in that "but." + + +She retired early to bed; to bed, but not to rest. + +In the silence of the night she recalled every thing, every look, every +word that had seemed a little strange to her, and put them all together. +She could not sleep; vague misgivings crawled over her agitated mind. +At length she slumbered from sheer exhaustion. She rose early; yet, when +she came down-stairs, Raby was just starting for Woodbine Villa. + +Mrs. Little asked him to take her into Hillsborough. He looked uneasy, +but complied, and, at her desire, set her down in the market-place +of Hillsborough. As soon as he was out of sight she took a fly, and +directed the driver to take her to Mr. Little's works. "I mean," said +she, "the works where Mr. Bayne is." + +She found Mr. Bayne in his counting-house, dressed in deep mourning. + +He started at sight of her, and then she saw his eye fall with surprise +on her gray dress. + +"Mr. Bayne," said she, "I am come to ask you a question or two." + +"Be seated, madam," said Bayne, reverently. "I expected a visit from you +or from your agent, and the accounts are all ready for your inspection. +I keep them as clear as possible." + +"I do not come here about accounts. My son has perfect confidence in +you, and so have I." + +"Thank you, madam; thank you kindly. He did indeed honor me with his +confidence, and with his friendship. I am sure he was more like a +brother to me than an employer. Ah, madam! I shall never, never, see his +fellow again." And honest Bayne turned away with his hand to his eyes. + +This seemed to Mrs. Little to be more than the occasion required, and +did not tend to lessen her misgivings. However, she said gravely, "Mr. +Bayne, I suppose you have heard there is to be a wedding in the town +to-day--Miss Carden?" + +"That is sudden! No, madam, I didn't know it. I can hardly believe it." + +"It is so. She marries a Mr. Coventry. Now I think you were in my son's +confidence; can you tell me whether there was any quarrel between him +and Miss Carden before he left us?" + +"Well, madam, I didn't see so much of him lately, he was always at the +other works. Would to heaven he had never seen them! But I don't believe +he ever gave that lady an unkind word. He was not that sort. He was +ready of his hand against a man, but a very lamb with women he was. And +so she is going to marry? Well, well; the world, it must go round. She +loved him dearly, too. She was down at Bolt and Little's works day after +day searching for him. She spent money like water, poor thing! I have +seen her with her white face and great eyes watching the men drag the +river for him; and, when that horrible thing was found at last, they say +she was on the bridge and swooned dead away, and lay at death's door. +But you will know all this, madam; and it is sad for me to speak of, let +alone you that are his mother." + +The color died out of Mrs. Little's cheek as he spoke; but, catching now +a glimpse of the truth, she drew Bayne on with terrible cunning, and so +learned that there had been a tremendous explosion, and Jael Dence taken +up for dead; and that, some time after, an arm and a hand had been found +in the river and recognized for the remains of Henry Little. + +When she had got this out of the unwary Bayne she uttered a piercing +scream, and her head hung over the chair, and her limbs writhed, and the +whole creature seemed to wither up. + +Then Bayne saw with dismay what he had done, and began to falter out +expressions of regret. She paid no attention. + +He begged her to let him fetch her some salts or a cordial. + +She shook her head and lay weak as water and white as a sheet. + +At last she rose, and, supporting herself for a moment by the back of +the chair, she said, "you will take me to see my son's remains." + +"Oh, for heaven's sake, don't think of it!" + +"I must; I cannot keep away from them an instant. And how else can +I know they are his? Do you think I will believe any eye but my own? +Come." + +He had no power to disobey her. He trembled in every limb at what was +coming, but he handed her into her carriage, and went with her to the +Town Hall. + +When they brought her the tweed sleeves, she trembled like an aspen +leaf. When they brought her the glass receptacle, she seized Bayne by +the shoulder and turned her head away. By degrees she looked round, and +seemed to stiffen all of a sudden. "It is not my son," said she. + + +She rushed out of the place, bade Mr. Bayne good-morning, and drove +directly to Dr. Amboyne. She attacked him at once. "You have been +deceiving me all this time about my son; and what am I the better? What +is anybody the better? Now tell me the truth. You think him dead?" + +(Dr. Amboyne hung his head in alarm and confusion.) + +"Why do you think so? Do you go by those remains? I have seen them. +My child was vaccinated on the left arm, and carried the mark. He had +specks on two of his finger-nails; he had a small wart on his little +finger; and his fingers were not blunt and uncouth, like that; they were +as taper as any lady's in England; that hand is nothing like my son's; +you are all blind; yet you must go and blind the only one who had eyes, +the only one who really loved him, and whose opinion is worth a straw." + +Dr. Amboyne was too delighted at the news to feel these reproaches very +deeply. "Thank God!" said he. "Scold me, for I deserve it. But I did for +the best; but, unfortunately, we have still to account for his writing +to no one all this time. No matter. I begin to hope. THAT was the worst +evidence. Edith, I must go to Woodbine Villa. That poor girl must not +marry in ignorance of this. Believe me, she will never marry Coventry, +if HE is alive. Excuse my leaving you at such a time, but there is not a +moment to be lost." + +He placed her on a sofa, and opened the window; for, by a natural +reaction, she was beginning to feel rather faint. He gave his +housekeeper strict orders to take care of her, then snatching his hat, +went hastily out. + +At the door he met the footman with several letters (he had a large +correspondence), shoved them pell-mell into his breast-pocket, shouted +to a cabman stationed near, and drove off to Woodbine Villa. + +It was rather up-hill, but he put his head out of the window and offered +the driver a sovereign to go fast. The man lashed his horse up the hill, +and did go very fast, though it seemed slow to Dr. Amboyne, because his +wishes flew so much faster. + +At last he got to the villa, and rang furiously. + +After a delay that set the doctor stamping, Lally appeared. + +"I must see Miss Carden directly." + +"Step in, sir; she won't be long now." + +Dr. Amboyne walked into the dining-room, and saw it adorned with a +wealth of flowers, and the wedding-breakfast set out with the usual +splendor; but there was nobody there; and immediately an uneasy +suspicion crossed his mind. + +He came out into the passage, and found Lally there. + +"Are they gone to the church?" + +"They are," said Lally, with consummate coolness. + +"You Irish idiot!" roared the doctor, "why couldn't you tell me that +before?" And, notwithstanding his ungainly figure, he ran down the road, +shouting, like a Stentor, to his receding cabman. + +"Bekase I saw that every minute was goold," said Lally, as soon as he +was out of hearing. + +The cabman, like most of his race, was rather deaf and a little blind, +and Dr. Amboyne was much heated and out of breath before he captured +him. He gasped out, "To St. Peter's Church, for your life!" + +It was rather down-hill this time, and about a mile off. + +In little more than five minutes the cab rattled up to the church door. + +Dr. Amboyne got out, told the man to wait, and entered the church with a +rapid step. + +Before he had gone far up the center aisle, he stopped. + +Mr. Coventry and Grace Carden were coming down the aisle together in +wedding costume, the lady in her bridal veil. + +They were followed by the bridemaids. + +Dr. Amboyne stared, and stepped aside into an open pew to let them pass. + +They swept by; he looked after them, and remained glued to his seat till +the church was clear of the procession. + +He went into the vestry, and found the curate there. + +"Are that couple really married, sir?" said he. + +The curate looked amazed. "As fast as I can make them," said he, rather +flippantly. + +"Excuse me," said the doctor, faintly. "It was a foolish question to +ask." + +"I think I have the honor of speaking to Dr. Amboyne?" + +Dr. Amboyne bowed mechanically. + +"You will be at the wedding-breakfast, of course?" + +"Humph!" + +"Why, surely, you are invited?" + +"Yes" (with an equally absent air). + +Finding him thus confused, the sprightly curate laughed and bade him +good-morning, jumped into a hansom, and away to Woodbine Villa. + +Dr. Amboyne followed him slowly. + +"Drive me to Woodbine Villa. There's no hurry now." + +On the way, he turned the matter calmly over, and put this question to +himself: Suppose he had reached the villa in time to tell Grace Carden +the news! Certainly he would have disturbed the wedding; but would it +have been put off any the more? The bride's friends and advisers would +have replied, "But that is no positive proof that he is alive; and, +if he is alive, he has clearly abandoned her. Not a line for all these +months." + +This view of the matter appeared to him unanswerable, and reconciled +him, in a great degree, to what seemed inevitable. + +He uttered one deep sigh of regret, and proceeded now to read his +letters; for he was not likely to have another opportunity for an hour +or two at least, since he must be at the wedding breakfast. His absence +would afflict the bride. + +The third letter he took out of his breast-pocket bore an American +postmark. At the first word of it he uttered an ejaculation, and his eye +darted to the signature. + +Then he gave a roar of delight. It was signed "Henry Little," and the +date only twelve days old. + +His first thought was the poor lady who, at this moment, lay on a sofa +in his house, a prey to doubts and fears he could now cure in a moment. + +But no sooner had he cast his eyes over the contents, than his very +flesh began to creep with dire misgivings and suspicions. + +To these succeeded the gravest doubts as to the course he ought to +pursue at Woodbine Villa. + +He felt pretty sure that Grace Carden had been entrapped into marrying a +villain, and his first impulse was to denounce the bridegroom before the +assembled guests. + +But his cooler judgment warned him against acting in hot blood, and +suggested it would be better to try and tell her privately. + +And then he asked himself what would be the consequence of telling her. + +She was a lady of great spirit, fire, and nobility. She would never live +with this husband of hers. + +And then came the question, What would be her life? + +She might be maid, wife, and widow all her days. + +Horrible as it was, he began almost to fear her one miserable chance of +happiness might lie in ignorance. + +But then how long could she be in ignorance? + +Little was coming home; he would certainly speak out. + +Dr. Amboyne was more tormented with doubts than a man of inferior +intellect would have been. His was an academic mind, accustomed to look +at every side of a question; and, when he reached Woodbine Villa, he +was almost distracted with doubt and perplexity. However, there was one +person from whom the news must not be kept a moment. He took an envelope +out of his pocket-book, and sent the cabman to Mrs. Little with this +line: + + +"Thank God, I have a letter from Henry Little by this day's post. He +is well. Wait an hour or two for me. I can not leave Woodbine Villa at +present." + + +He sent this off by his cabman, and went into the breakfast-room in a +state of mind easier to imagine than to describe. + +The party were all seated, and his the only vacant place. + +It was like a hundred other weddings at which he had been; and, seeing +the bride and bridegroom seated together as usual, and the pretty +bridemaids tittering, as usual, and the gentle dullness lighted up with +here and there a feeble jest, as usual, he could hardly realize that +horrible things lay beneath the surface of all this snowy bride-cake, +and flowers, and white veils, and weak jocoseness. + +He stared, bowed, and sunk into his place like a man in a dream. + +Bridemaids became magnetically conscious that an incongruous element +had entered; so they tittered. At what does sweet silly seventeen not +titter? + +Knives and forks clattered, champagne popped, and Dr. Amboyne was more +perplexed and miserable than he had ever been. He had never encountered +a more hopeless situation. + +Presently Lally came and touched the bridegroom. He apologized, and left +the room a moment. + +Lally then told him to be on his guard, for the fat doctor knew +something. He had come tearing up in a fly, and had been dreadfully put +out when he found Miss Carden was gone to the church. + +"Well, but he might merely wish to accompany her to the church: he is an +old friend." + +Lally shook his head and said there was much more in it than that; he +could tell by the man's eye, and his uneasy way. "Master, dear, get out +of this, for heaven's sake, as fast as ye can." + +"You are right; go and order the carriage round, as soon as the horses +can be put to." + +Coventry then went hastily back to the bridal guests, and Lally ran to +the neighboring inn which furnished the four post-horses. + +Coventry had hardly settled down in his chair before he cast a keen but +furtive glance at Dr. Amboyne's face. + +Then he saw directly that the doctor's mind was working, and that he was +secretly and profoundly agitated. + +But, after all, he thought, what could the man know? And if he had known +any thing, would he have kept it to himself? + +Still he judged it prudent to propitiate Dr. Amboyne; so, when the time +came for the usual folly of drinking healths, he leaned over to him, +and, in the sweetest possible voice, asked him if he would do them both +the honor to propose the bride's health. + +At this unexpected call from Mr. Coventry, Dr. Amboyne stared in the +bridegroom's face. He stared at him so that other people began to stare. +Recovering himself a little, he rose mechanically, and surprised every +body who knew him. + +Instead of the easy gayety natural to himself and proper to the +occasion, he delivered a few faltering words of affection for the bride; +then suddenly stopped, and, after a pause, said, "But some younger man +must foretell her the bright career she deserves. I am unfit. We don't +know what an hour may bring forth." With this he sunk into his chair. + +An uneasy grin, and then a gloom, fell on the bright company at these +strange words, and all looked at one another uncomfortably. + +But this situation was unexpectedly relieved. The young curate rose, and +said, "I accept the honor Dr. Amboyne is generous enough to transfer to +the younger gentlemen of the party--accept it with pride." + +Starting from this exordium, he pronounced, with easy volubility, a +charming panegyric on the bride, congratulated her friends, and then +congratulated himself on being the instrument to unite her in holy +wedlock with a gentleman worthy of her affection. Then, assuming for one +moment the pastor, he pronounced a blessing on the pair, and sat down, +casting glances all round out of a pair of singularly restless eyes. + +The loud applause that followed left him in no doubt as to the +favorable effect he had produced. Coventry, in particular, looked most +expressively grateful. + +The bridegroom's health followed, and Coventry returned thanks in +a speech so neat and well delivered that Grace felt proud of his +performance. + +Then the carriage and four came round, and Coventry gave Grace an +imploring glance on which she acted at once, being herself anxious to +escape from so much publicity. She made her courtesies, and retired to +put on her traveling-dress. + +Then Dr. Amboyne cursed his own indecision, but still could not make up +his mind, except to tell Raby, and make him the judge what course was +best. + +The gayety, never very boisterous, began to flag altogether; when +suddenly a noise was heard outside, and one or two young people, who +darted unceremoniously to the window, were rewarded by the sight of a +man and a woman struggling and quarreling at the gate. The disturbance +in question arose thus: Jael Dence, looking out of Grace's window, saw +the postman coming, and ran to get Grace her letters (if any) before she +went. + +The postman, knowing her well, gave her the one letter there was. + +Lally, returning from the inn, where he had stopped one unlucky minute +to drain a glass, saw this, and ran after Jael and caught her just +inside the gate. + +"That is for me," said he, rudely. + +"Nay, it's for thy betters, young man; 'tis for Miss Grace Carden." + +"She is Mrs. Coventry now, so give it me." + +"I'll take her orders first." + +On this Lally grabbed at it and caught Jael's right hand, which closed +directly on the letter like a vise. + +"Are these your manners?" said she. "Give over now." + +"I tell you I will have it!" said he, fiercely, for he had caught sight +of the handwriting. + +He seized her hand and applied his knuckles to the back of it with all +his force. That hurt her, and she gave a cry, and twisted away from him +and drew back; then, putting her left hand to his breast, she gave +a great yaw, and then a forward rush with her mighty loins, and a +contemporaneous shove with her amazing left arm, that would have pushed +down some brick walls, and the weight and strength so suddenly applied +sent Lally flying like a feather. His head struck the stone gate-post, +and he measured his length under it. + +Jael did not know how completely she had conquered him, and she ran in +with a face as red as fire, and took the letter up to Grace, and was +telling her, all in a heat, about the insolence of her new husband's +Irish servant, when suddenly she half recognized the handwriting, and +stood staring at it, and began to tremble. + +"Why, what is the matter?" said Grace. + +"Oh, nothing, miss. I'm foolish. The writing seems to me like a writing +we shall never see again." And she stood and trembled still more, for +the handwriting struck her more and more. + +Grace ran to her, and at the very first glance uttered a shriek of +recognition. She caught it from Jael, tore it open, saw the signature, +and sunk into a chair, half fainting, with the letter pressed +convulsively to her breast. + +Jael, trembling, but comparatively self-possessed, ran to the door +directly and locked it. + +"My darling! my darling! he is alive! The dear words, they swim before +my eyes. Read! read! tell me what he says. Why has he abandoned me? He +has not abandoned me! O God! what have I done? what have I done?" + +Before that letter was half read, or rather sobbed, out to her, Grace +tore off all her bridal ornaments and trampled them under her feet, and +moaned, and twisted, and writhed as if her body was being tortured as +well as her heart; for Henry was true as ever, and she had married a +villain. + +She took the letter from Jael, and devoured every word; though she was +groaning and sobbing with the wildest agony all the time. + + +"NEW YORK, July 18th. + +"MY OWN DEAREST GRACE,--I write you these few lines in wonder and pain. +I have sent you at least fifteen letters, and in most of them I have +begged you to write to me at the Post-office, New York; yet not one line +is here to greet me in your dear handwriting. Yet my letters must have +all reached Woodbine Villa, or why are they not sent back? Of three +letters I sent to my mother, two have been returned from Aberystwith, +marked, 'Gone away, and not left her address.' + +"I have turned this horrible thing every way in my mind, and even prayed +God to assist my understanding; and I come back always to the same idea +that some scoundrel has intercepted my letters. + +"The first of these I wrote at the works on the evening I left +Hillsborough; the next I wrote from Boston, after my long illness, in +great distress of mind on your account; for I put myself in your place, +and thought what agony it would be to me if nine weeks passed, and no +word from you. The rest were written from various cities, telling you I +was making our fortune, and should soon be home. Oh, I can not write of +such trifles now! + +"My own darling, let me find you alive; that is all I ask. I know I +shall find you true to me, if you are alive. + +"Perhaps it would have been better if my heart had not been so entirely +filled by you. God has tried me hard in some things, but He has blessed +me with true friends. It was ungrateful of me not to write to such +true friends as Dr. Amboyne and Jael Dence. But, whenever I thought of +England, I saw only you. + +"By this post I write to Dr. Amboyne, Mr. Bolt, Mr. Bayne, and Jael +Dence. + +"This will surely baffle the enemy who has stopped all my letters to +you, and will stop this one, I dare say. + +"I say no more, beloved one. What is the use? You will perhaps never see +this letter, and you know more than I can say, for you know how I love +you: and that is a great deal more than ever I can put on paper. + +"I sail for England in four days. God help me to get over the interval. + +"I forget whether I told you I had made my fortune. Your devoted and +most unhappy lover, + +"Henry." + + +Grace managed to read this, in spite of the sobs and moans that shook +her, and the film that half blinded her; and, when she had read it, +sank heavily down, and sat all crushed together, with hands working like +frenzy. + +Jael kneeled beside her, and kissed and wept over her, unheeded. + +Then Jael prayed aloud beside her, unheeded. + +At last she spoke, looking straight before her, as if she was speaking +to the wall. + +"Bring my godfather here." + +"Won't you see your father first?" said Jael, timidly. + +"I have no father. I want something I can lean on over the gulf--a man +of honor. Fetch Mr. Raby to me." + +Jael kissed her tenderly, and wept over her once more a minute, then +went softly down-stairs and straight into the breakfast-room. + +Here, in the meantime, considerable amusement had been created by the +contest between Lally and Jael Dence, the more so on account of the +triumph achieved by the weaker vessel. + +When Lally got up, and looked about him ruefully, great was the delight +of the younger gentlemen. + +When he walked in-doors, they chaffed him through an open window, and +none of them noticed that the man was paler than even the rough usage he +had received could account for. + +This jocund spirit, however, was doomed to be short-lived. + +Lally came into the room, looking pale and troubled, and whispered a +word in his master's ear; then retired, but left his master as pale as +himself. + +Coventry, seated at a distance from the window, had not seen the +scrimmage outside, and Lally's whispered information fell on him like a +thunderbolt. + +Mr. Beresford saw at once that something was wrong, and hinted as much +to his neighbor. It went like magic round the table, and there was an +uneasy silence. + +In the midst of this silence, mysterious sounds began to be heard in the +bride's chamber: a faint scream; feet rushing across the floor; a sound +as of some one sinking heavily on to a chair or couch. + +Presently came a swift stamping that told a tale of female passion; and +after that confused sounds that could not be interpreted through the +ceiling, yet somehow the listeners felt they were unusual. One or two +attempted conversation, out of politeness; but it died away--curiosity +and uneasiness prevailed. + +Lally put his head in at the door, and asked if the carriage was to be +packed. + +"Of course," said Coventry; and soon the servants, male and female, were +seen taking boxes out from the hall to the carriage. + +Jael Dence walked into the room, and went to Mr. Raby. + +"The bride desires to see you immediately, sir." + +Raby rose, and followed Jael out. + +The next minute a lady's maid came, with a similar message to Dr. +Amboyne. + +He rose with great alacrity, and followed her. + +There was nothing remarkable in the bride's taking private leave of +these two valued friends. But somehow the mysterious things that had +preceded made the guests look with half-suspicious eyes into every +thing; and Coventry's manifest discomfiture, when Dr. Amboyne was sent +for, justified this vague sense that there was something strange going +on beneath the surface. + +Neither Raby nor Amboyne came down again, and Mr. Beresford remarked +aloud that the bride's room was like the lion's den in the fable, +"'Vestigia nulla retrorsum.'" + +At last the situation became intolerable to Coventry. He rose, in +desperation, and said, with a ghastly attempt at a smile, that he must, +nevertheless, face the dangers of the place himself, as the carriage was +now packed, and Mrs. Coventry and he, though loath to leave their kind +friends, had a longish journey before them. "Do not move, I pray; I +shall be back directly." + +As soon as he had got out of the room, he held a whispered consultation +with Lally, and then, collecting all his courage, and summoning all his +presence of mind, he went slowly up the stairs, determined to disown +Lally's acts (Lally himself had suggested this), and pacify Grace's +friends, if he could; but, failing that, to turn round, and stand +haughtily on his legal rights, ay, and enforce them too. + +But, meantime, what had passed in the bride's chamber? + +Raby found Grace Carden, with her head buried on her toilet-table, and +her hair all streaming down her back. + +The floor was strewn with pearls and broken ornaments, and fragments of +the bridal veil. On the table lay Henry Little's letter. + +Jael took it without a word, and gave it to Raby. + +He took it, and, after a loud ejaculation of surprise, began to read it. + +He had not quite finished it when Dr. Amboyne tapped at the door, and +Jael let him in. + +The crushed figure with disheveled hair, and Raby's eye gleaming over +the letter in his hand, told him at once what was going on. + +He ceased to doubt, or vacillate, directly; he whispered Jael Dence to +stand near Grace, and watch her closely. + +He had seen a woman start up and throw herself, in one moment, out of +a window, for less than this--a woman crushed apparently, and more dead +than alive, as Grace Carden was. + +Then he took out his own letter, and read it in a low voice to Mr. Raby; +but it afterward appeared the bride heard every word. + + +"MY BEST FRIEND,--Forgive me for neglecting you so long, and writing +only to her I love with all my soul. Forgive me, for I smart for it. I +have written fifteen letters to my darling Grace, and received no reply. +I wrote her one yesterday, but have now no hope she will ever get +it. This is terrible, but there is worse behind. This very day I have +learned that my premises were blown up within a few hours of my leaving, +and poor, faithful Jael Dence nearly killed; and then a report of my own +death was raised, and some remains found in the ruins that fools said +were mine. I suppose the letters I left in the box were all destroyed by +the fire. + +"Now, mark my words, one and the same villain has put that dead man's +hand and arm in the river, and has stopped my letters to Grace; I +am sure of it. So what I want you to do is, first of all, to see my +darling, and tell her I am alive and well, and then put her on her guard +against deceivers. + +"I suspect the postman has been tampered with. I write to Mr. Ransome +to look into that. But what you might learn for me is, whether any body +lately has had any opportunity to stop letters addressed to 'Woodbine +Villa.' That seems to point to Mr. Carden, and he was never a friend of +mine. But, somehow, I don't think he would do it. + +"You see, I ask myself two questions. Is there any man in the world who +has a motive strong enough to set him tampering with my letters? and, +again, is there any man base enough to do such an act? And the answer +to both questions is the same. I have a rival, and he is base enough for +any thing. Judge for yourself. I as good as saved that Coventry's life +one snowy night, and all I asked in return was that he wouldn't blow me +to the Trades, and so put my life in jeopardy. He gave his word of honor +he wouldn't. But he broke his word. One day, when Grotait and I were +fast friends, and never thought to differ again, Grotait told me this +Coventry was the very man that came to him and told him where I was +working. Such a lump of human dirt as that--for you can't call him a +man--must be capable of any thing." + + +Here the reading of the letter was interrupted by an incident. + + +There was on the toilet-table a stiletto, with a pearl handle. It was a +small thing, but the steel rather long, and very bright and pointed. + +The unfortunate bride, without lifting her head from the table, had +reached out her hand, and was fingering this stiletto. Jael Dence went +and took it gently away, and put it out of reach. The bride went on +fingering, as if she had still got hold of it. + +Amboyne exchanged an approving glance with Jael, and Raby concluded the +letter. + + +"I shall be home in a few days after this; and, if I find my darling +well and happy, there's no great harm done. I don't mind my own trouble +and anxiety, great as they are, but if any scoundrel has made her +unhappy, or made her believe I am dead, or false to my darling, by God, +I'll kill him, though I hang for it next day!" + + +Crushed, benumbed, and broken as Grace Coventry was, this sentence +seemed to act on her like an electric shock. + +She started wildly up. "What! my Henry die like a felon--for a villain +like him, and an idiot like me! You won't allow that; nor you--nor I." + +A soft step came to the door, and a gentle tap. + +"Who is that?" said Dr. Amboyne. + +"The bridegroom," replied a soft voice. + +"You can't come in here," said Raby, roughly. + +"Open the door," said the bride. + +Jael went to the door, but looked uncertain. + +"Don't keep the bridegroom out," said Grace, reproachfully. Then, in a +voice as sweet as his own, "I want to see him; I want to speak to him." + +Jael opened the door slowly, for she felt uneasy. Raby shrugged his +shoulders contemptuously at Grace's condescending to speak to the man, +and in so amiable a tone. + +Coventry entered, and began, "My dear Grace, the carriage is ready--" + +No sooner had she got him fairly into the room, than the bride snatched +up the stiletto, and flew at the bridegroom with gleaming eyes, uplifted +weapon, the yell of a furious wild beast, and hair flying out behind her +head like a lion's mane. + + + + +CHAPTER XL. + + +Dr. Amboyne and Raby cried out, and tried to interfere; but Grace's +movement was too swift, furious, and sudden; she was upon the man, with +her stiletto high in the air, before they could get to her, and indeed +the blow descended, and, inspired as it was by love, and hate, and fury, +would doubtless have buried the weapon in a rascal's body; but Jael +Dence caught Grace's arm: that weakened, and also diverted the blow; yet +the slight, keen weapon pierced Coventry's cheek, and even inflicted a +slight wound upon the tongue. That very moment Jael Dence dragged her +away, and held her round the waist, writhing and striking the air; her +white hand and bridal sleeve sprinkled with her bridegroom's blood. + +As for him, his love, criminal as it was, supplied the place of heroism: +he never put up a finger in defense. "No," said he, despairingly, "let +me die by her hand; it is all I hope for now." He even drew near her to +enable her to carry out her wish: but, on that, Jael Dence wrenched her +round directly, and Dr. Amboyne disarmed her, and Raby marched between +the bride and the bridegroom, and kept them apart: then they all drew +their breath, for the first time, and looked aghast at each other. + +Not a face in that room had an atom of color left in it; yet it was not +until the worst was over that they realized the savage scene. + +The bridegroom leaned against the wardrobe, a picture of despair, with +blood trickling from his cheek, and channeling his white waist-coat +and linen; the bride, her white and bridal sleeve spotted with blood, +writhed feebly in Jael Dence's arms, and her teeth clicked together, and +her eyes shone wildly. At that moment she was on the brink of frenzy. + +Raby, a man by nature, and equal to great situations, was the first to +recover self-possession and see his way. "Silence!" said he, sternly. +"Amboyne, here's a wounded man; attend to him." + +He had no need to say that twice; the doctor examined his patient +zealously, and found him bleeding from the tongue as well as the cheek; +he made him fill his mouth with a constant supply of cold water, and +applied cold water to the nape of his neck. + +And now there was a knock at the door, and a voice inquired rather +impatiently, what they were about all this time. It was Mr. Carden's +voice. + +They let him in, but instantly closed the door. "Now, hush!" said Raby, +"and let me tell him." He then, in a very few hurried words, told him +the matter. Coventry hung his head lower and lower. + +Mr. Carden was terribly shaken. He could hardly speak for some time. +When he did, it was in the way of feeble expostulation. "Oh, my child! +my child! what, would you commit murder?" + +"Don't you see I would," cried she, contemptuously, "sooner than HE +should do it, and suffer for it like a felon? You are all blind, and +no friends of mine. I should have rid the earth of a monster, and they +would never have hanged ME. I hate you all, you worst of all, that call +yourself my father, and drove me to marry this villain. One thing--you +won't be always at hand to protect him." + +"I'll give you every opportunity," said Coventry, doggedly. "You shall +kill me for loving you so madly." + +"She shall do no such thing," said Mr. Carden. "Opportunity? do you know +her so little as to think she will ever live with you. Get out of my +house, and never presume to set foot in at again. My good friends, have +pity on a miserable father and help me to hide this monstrous thing from +the world." + +This appeal was not lost: the gentlemen put their heads together and led +Coventry into another room. There Dr. Amboyne attended to him, while Mr. +Carden went down and told his guests the bridegroom had been taken ill, +so seriously indeed that anxiety and alarm had taken the place of joy. + +The guests took the hint and dispersed, wondering and curious. + +Meantime, on one side of a plaster wall Amboyne was attending the +bridegroom, and stanching the effusion of blood; on the other, Raby and +Jael Dence were bringing the bride to reason. + +She listened to nothing they could say until they promised her most +solemnly that she should never be compelled to pass a night under the +same roof as Frederick Coventry. That pacified her not a little. + +Dr. Amboyne had also great trouble with his patient: the wound in the +cheek was not serious; but, by a sort of physical retribution--of which, +by-the-bye, I have encountered many curious examples--the tongue, that +guilty part of Frederick Coventry, though slightly punctured, bled so +persistently that Amboyne was obliged to fill his mouth with ice, and at +last support him with stimulants. He peremptorily refused to let him be +moved from Woodbine Villa. + +When this was communicated to Grace, she instantly exacted Raby's +promise; and as he was a man who never went from his word, he drove her +and Jael to Raby Hall that very night, and they left Coventry in the +villa, attended by a surgeon, under whose care Amboyne had left him with +strict injunctions. Mr. Carden was secretly mortified at his daughter's +retreat, but raised no objection. + +Next morning, however, he told Coventry; and then Coventry insisted on +leaving the house. "I am unfortunate enough," said he: "do not let me +separate my only friend from his daughter." + +Mr. Carden sent a carriage off to Raby Hall, with a note, telling Grace +Mr. Coventry was gone of his own accord, and appeared truly penitent, +and much shocked at having inadvertently driven her out of the house. +He promised also to protect her, should Coventry break his word and +attempted to assume marital rights without her concurrence. + +This letter found Grace in a most uncomfortable position. Mrs. Little +had returned late to Raby Hall; but in the morning she heard from Jael +Dence that Grace was in the house, and why. + +The mother's feathers were up, and she could neither pity nor excuse. +She would not give the unhappy girl a word of comfort. Indeed, she +sternly refused to see her. "No," said she: "Mrs. Coventry is unhappy; +so this is no time to show her how thoroughly Henry Little's mother +despises her." + +These bitter words never reached poor Grace, but the bare fact of +Mrs. Little not coming down-stairs by one o'clock, nor sending a civil +message, spoke volumes, and Grace was sighing over it when her father's +letter came. She went home directly, and so heartbroken, that Jael Dence +pitied her deeply, and went with her, intending to stay a day or two +only. + +But every day something or other occurred, which combined with Grace's +prayers to keep her at Woodbine Villa. + +Mr. Coventry remained quiet for some days, by which means he pacified +Grace's terrors. + +On the fourth day Mr. Beresford called at Woodbine Villa, and Grace +received him, he being the curate of the parish. + +He spoke to her in a sympathetic tone, which let her know at once he +was partly in the secret. He said he had just visited a very guilty, +but penitent man; that we all need forgiveness, and that a woman, once +married, has no chance of happiness but with her husband. + +Grace maintained a dead silence, only her eye began to glitter. + +Mr. Beresford, who had learned to watch the countenance of all those +he spoke to changed his tone immediately, from a spiritual to a secular +adviser. + +"If I were you," said he, in rather an offhand way, "I would either +forgive this man the sin into which his love has betrayed him, or I +would try to get a divorce. This would cost money: but, if you don't +mind expense, I think I could suggest a way--" + +Grace interrupted him. "From whom did you learn my misery, and his +villainy? I let you in, because I thought you came from God; but you +come from a villain. Go back, sir, and say that an angel, sent by him, +becomes a devil in my eyes." And she rang the bell with a look that +spoke volumes. + +Mr. Beresford bowed, smiled bitterly, and went back to Coventry, with +whom he had a curious interview, that ended in Coventry lending him two +hundred pounds on his personal security. To dispose of Mr. Beresford +for the present I will add that, soon after this, his zeal for the +poor subjected him to an affront. He was a man of soup-kitchens and +subscriptions. One of the old fogies, who disliked him, wrote letters to +The Liberal, and demanded an account of his receipts and expenditure in +these worthy objects, and repeated the demand with a pertinacity that +implied suspicion. Then Mr. Beresford called upon Dr. Fynes, and showed +him the letters, and confessed to him that he never kept any accounts, +either of public or private expenditure. "I can construe Apollonius +Rhodius--with your assistance, sir," said he, "but I never could add up +pounds, shillings, and pence; far less divide them except amongst the +afflicted." "Take no notice of the cads," said Dr. Fynes. But Beresford +represented meekly that a clergyman's value and usefulness were gone +when once a slur was thrown upon him. Then Dr. Fynes gave him high +testimonials, and they parted with mutual regret. + +It took Grace a day to get over her interview with Mr. Beresford; and +when with Jael's help she was calm again, she received a letter from +Coventry, indited in tones of the deepest penitence, but reminding +her that he had offered her his life, had made no resistance when she +offered to take it, and never would. + +There was nothing in the letter that irritated her, but she saw in it an +attempt to open a correspondence. She wrote back: + + +"If you really repent your crimes, and have any true pity for the poor +creature whose happiness you have wrecked, show it by leaving this +place, and ceasing all communication with her." + + +This galled Coventry, and he wrote back: + + +"What! leave the coast clear to Mr. Little? No, Mrs. Coventry; no." + + +Grace made no reply, but a great terror seized her, and from that hour +preyed constantly on her mind--the fear that Coventry and Little would +meet, and the man she loved would do some rash act, and perhaps perish +on the scaffold for it. + +This was the dominant sentiment of her distracted heart, when one day, +at eleven A.M., came a telegram from Liverpool: + + +"Just landed. Will be with you by four. + +"HENRY LITTLE." + + +Jael found her shaking all over, with this telegram in her hand. + +"Thank God you are with me!" she gasped. "Let me see him once more, and +die." + +This was her first thought; but all that day she was never in the same +mind for long together. She would burst out into joy that he was really +alive, and she should see his face once more. Then she would cower with +terror, and say she dared not look him in the face; she was not worthy. +Then she would ask wildly, who was to tell him? What would become of +him? + +"It would break his heart, or destroy his reason. After all he had done +and suffered for her!" + +Oh! why could she not die before he came? Seeing her dead body he would +forgive her. She should tell him she loved him still, should always love +him. She would withhold no comfort. Perhaps he would kill her, if so, +Jael must manage so that he should not be taken up or tormented any +more, for such a wretch as she was. + +But I might as well try to dissect a storm, and write the gusts of a +tempest, as to describe all the waves of passion in that fluctuating and +agonized heart: the feelings and the agitation of a life were crowded +into those few hours, during which she awaited the lover she had lost. + +At last, Jael Dence, though she was also much agitated and perplexed, +decided on a course of action. Just before four o'clock she took Grace +upstairs and told her she might see him arrive, but she must not come +down until she was sent for. "I shall see him first, and tell him all; +and, when he is fit to see you, I will let you know." + +Grace submitted, and even consented to lie down for half an hour. She +was now, in truth, scarcely able to stand, being worn out with the +mental struggle. She lay passive, with Jael Dence's hand in hers. + +When she had lain so about an hour, she started up suddenly, and the +next moment a fly stopped at the door. Henry Little got out at the gate, +and walked up the gravel to the house. + +Grace looked at him from behind the curtain, gazed at him till +he disappeared, and then turned round, with seraphic joy on her +countenance. "My darling!" she murmured; "more beautiful than ever! Oh +misery! misery!" + +One moment her heart was warm with rapture, the next it was cold with +despair. But the joy was blind love; the despair was reason. + +She waited, and waited, but no summons came. + +She could not deny herself the sound of his voice. She crept down +the stairs, and into her father's library, separated only by thin +folding-doors from the room where Henry Little was with Jael Dence. + + +Meantime Jael Dence opened the door to Henry Little, and, putting her +fingers to her lips, led him into the dining-room and shut the door. + +Now, as his suspicions were already excited, this reception alarmed him +seriously. As soon as ever they were alone, he seized both Jael's hands, +and, looking her full in the face, said: + +"One word--is she alive?" + +"She is." + +"Thank god! Bless the tongue that tells me that. My good Jael! my best +friend!" And, with that, kissed her heartily on both cheeks. + +She received this embrace like a woman of wood; a faint color rose, but +retired directly, and left her cheek as pale as before. + +He noticed her strange coldness, and his heart began to quake. + +"There is something the matter?" he whispered. + +"There is." + +"Something you don't like to tell me?" + +"Like to tell you! I need all my courage, and you yours." + +"Say she is alive, once more." + +"She is alive, and not likely to die; but she does not care to live now. +They told her you were dead; they told her you were false; appearances +were such she had no chance not to be deceived. She held out for a long +time; but they got the better of her--her father is much to blame--she +is--married." + +"Married!" + +"Yes!" + +"Married!" He leaned, sick as death, against the mantel-piece, and +gasped so terribly that Jael's fortitude gave way, and she began to cry. + +After a long time he got a word or two out in a broken voice. + +"The false--inconstant--wretch! Oh Heaven! what I have done and suffered +for her--and now married!--married! And the earth doesn't swallow her, +nor the thunder strike her! Curse her, curse her husband, curse her +children! may her name be a by-word for shame and misery--" + +"Hush! hush! or you will curse your own mad tongue. Hear all, before you +judge her." + +"I have heard all; she is a wife; she shall soon be a widow. Thought I +was false! What business had she to think I was false? It is only false +hearts that suspect true ones. She thought me dead? Why? Because I was +out of sight. She heard there was a dead hand found in the river. Why +didn't she go and see it? Could all creation pass another hand off on me +for hers? No; for I loved her. She never loved me." + +"She loved you, and loves you still. When that dead hand was found, she +fell swooning, and lay at death's door for you, and now she has stained +her hands with blood for you. She tried to kill her husband, the moment +she found you were alive and true, and he had made a fool of her." + +"TRIED to kill him! Why didn't she do it? I should not have failed at +such work. I love her." + +"Blame me for that; I stopped her arm, and I am stronger than she is. I +say she is no more to blame than you. You have acted like a madman, and +she suffers for it. Why did you slip away at night like that, and not +tell me?" + +"I left letters to you and her, and other people besides." + +"Yes, left them, and hadn't the sense to post them. Why didn't you TELL +me? Had ever any young man as faithful and true a friend in any young +woman as you had in me? Many a man has saved a woman's life, but it +isn't often that a woman fights for a man, and gets the upper hand: yet +you gave me nothing in return; not even your confidence. Look the truth +in the face, my lad; all your trouble, and all hers, comes of your +sneaking out of Hillsborough in that daft way, without a word to me, the +true friend, that was next door to you; which I nearly lost my life by +your fault; for, if you had told me, I should have seen you off, and +so escaped a month's hospital, and other troubles that almost drove +me crazy. Don't you abuse that poor young lady before me, or I sha'n't +spare you. She is more to be pitied than you are. Folk should look at +home for the cause of their troubles; her misery, and yours, it is all +owing to your own folly and ingratitude; ay, you may look; I mean what I +say--ingratitude." + +The attack was so sudden and powerful that Henry Little was staggered +and silenced; but an unexpected defender appeared on the scene; one of +the folding-doors was torn open, and Grace darted in. + +"How dare you say it is his fault, poor ill-used angel! No, no, no, no, +I am the only one to blame. I didn't love you as you deserved. I tried +to die for you, and FAILED. I tried to kill that monster for you, and +FAILED. I am too weak and silly; I shall only make you more unhapppy. +Give me one kiss, my own darling, and then kill me out of the way." With +this she was over his knees and round his neck in a moment, weeping, and +clutching him with a passionate despair that melted all his anger away, +and soon his own tears tell on her like rain. + +"Ah, Grace! Grace!" he sobbed, "how could you? how could you?" + +"Don't speak unkindly to her," cried Jael, "or she won't be alive a day. +She is worse off than you are; and so is he too." + +"You mock me; he is her husband. He can make her live with him. He +can--" Here he broke out cursing and blaspheming, and called Grace +a viper, and half thrust her away from him with horror, and his face +filled with jealous anguish: he looked like a man dying of poison. + +Then he rose to his feet, and said, with a sort of deadly calm, "Where +can I find the man?" + +"Not in this house, you may be sure," said Jael; "nor in any house where +she is." + +Henry sank into his seat again, and looked amazed. + +"Tell him all," said Grace. "Don't let him think I do not love him at +all." + +"I will," said Jael. "Well, the wedding was at eleven; your letter came +at half-past twelve, and I took it her. Soon after that the villain came +to her, and she stabbed him directly with this stiletto. Look at it; +there's his blood up on it; I kept it to show you. I caught her arm, or +she would have killed him, I believe. He lost so much blood, the doctor +would not let him be moved. Then she thought of you still, and would not +pass a night under the same roof with him; at two o'clock she was on the +way to Raby; but Mr. Coventry was too much of a man to stay in the house +and drive her out; so he went off next morning, and, as soon as she +heard that, she came home. She is wife and no wife, as the saying is, +and how it is all to end Heaven only knows." + +"It will end the moment I meet the man; and that won't be long." + +"There! there!" cried Grace, "that is what I feared. Ah, Jael! Jael! why +did you hold my hand? They would not have hung ME. I told you so at the +time: I knew what I was about." + +"Jael," said the young man, "of all the kind things you have done for +me, that was the kindest. You saved my poor girl from worse trouble than +she is now in. No, Grace; you shall not dirty your hand with such scum +as that: it is my business, and mine only." + +In vain did Jael expostulate, and Grace implore. In vain did Jael assure +him that Coventry was in a worse position than himself, and try to make +him see that any rash act of his would make Grace even more miserable +than she was at present. He replied that he had no intention of running +his neck into a halter; he should act warily, like the Hillsborough +Trades, and strike his blow so cunningly that the criminal should never +know whence it came. "I've been in a good school for homicide," said +he; "and I am an inventor. No man has ever played the executioner so +ingeniously as I will play it. Think of all this scoundrel has done to +me: he owes me a dozen lives, and I'll take one. Man shall never detect +me: God knows all, and will forgive me, I hope. If He doesn't, I can't +help it." + +He kissed Grace again and again, and comforted her; said she was not to +blame; honest people were no match for villains: if she had been twice +as simple, he would have forgiven her at sight of the stiletto; that +cleared her, in his mind, better than words. + +He was now soft and gentle as a lamb. He begged Jael's pardon humbly for +leaving Hillsborough without telling her. He said he had gone up to her +room; but all was still; and he was a working man, and the sleep of a +working-woman was sacred to him--(he would have awakened a fine lady +without ceremony). Be assured her he had left a note for her in his box, +thanking and blessing her for all her goodness. He said that he hoped +he might yet live to prove by acts, and not by idle words, how deeply he +felt all she had done and suffered for him. + +Jael received these excuses in hard silence. "That is enough about +me," said she, coldly. "If you are grateful to me, show it by taking my +advice. Leave vengeance to Him who has said that vengeance is His." + +The man's whole manner changed directly, and he said doggedly: + +"Well, I will be His instrument." + +"He will choose His own." + +"I'll lend my humble co-operation." + +"Oh, do not argue with him," said Grace, piteously. "When did a man ever +yield to our arguments? Dearest, I can't argue: but I am full of misery, +and full of fears. You see my love; you forgive my folly. Have pity on +me; think of my condition: do not doom me to live in terror by night and +day: have I not enough to endure, my own darling? There, promise me you +will do nothing rash to-night, and that you will come to me the first +thing to-morrow. Why, you have not seen your mother yet; she is at Raby +Hall." + +"My dear mother!" said he: "it would be a poor return for all your love +if I couldn't put off looking for that scum till I have taken you in my +arms." + +And so Grace got a reprieve. + +They parted in deep sorrow, but almost as lovingly as ever, and Little +went at once to Raby Hall, and Grace, exhausted by so many emotions, lay +helpless on a couch in her own room all the rest of the day. + +For some time she lay in utter prostration, and only the tears that +trickled at intervals down her pale cheeks showed that she was conscious +of her miserable situation. + +Jael begged and coaxed her to take some nourishment: but she shook her +head with disgust at the very idea. + +For all that at nine o'clock, her faithful friend almost forced a few +spoonfuls of tea down her throat, feeding her like a child: and, when +she had taken it, she tried to thank her, but choked in the middle, and, +flinging her arm round Jael's neck, burst into a passion of weeping, +and incoherent cries of love, and pity, and despair. "Oh, my darling! so +great! so noble! so brave! so gentle! And I have destroyed us both! he +forgave me as soon as he SAW me! So terrible, so gentle! What will be +the next calamity? Ah, Jael! save him from that rash act, and I shall +never complain; for he was dead, and is alive again." + +"We will find some way to do that between us--you, and I, and his +mother." + +"Ah, yes: she will be on my side in that. But she will be hard upon me. +She will point out all my faults, my execrable folly. Ah, if I could but +live my time over again, I'd pray night and day for selfishness. They +teach us girls to pray for this and that virtue, which we have too much +of already; and what we ought to pray for is selfishness. But no! I +must think of my father, and think of that hypocrite: but the one person +whose feelings I was too mean, and base, and silly to consult, was +myself. I always abhorred this marriage. I feared it, and loathed it; +yet I yielded step by step, for want of a little selfishness; we are +slaves without it--mean, pitiful, contemptible slaves. O God, in mercy +give me selfishness! Ah me, it is too late now. I am a lost creature; +nothing is left me but to die." + + +Jael got her to bed, and sleep came at last to her exhausted body; but, +even when her eyes were closed, tears found their way through the lids, +and wetted her pillow. + +So can great hearts and loving natures suffer. + +Can they enjoy in proportion? + +Let us hope so. But I have my doubts. + + +Henry Little kept his word, and came early next morning. He looked +hopeful and excited: he said he had thought the matter over, and was +quite content to let that scoundrel live, and even to dismiss all +thought of him, if Grace really loved him. + +"If I love you!" said Grace. "Oh, Henry, why did I ask you to do nothing +rash, but that I love you? Why did I attempt his life myself? because +you said in your letter--It was not to revenge myself, but to save you +from more calamity. Cruel, cruel! Do I love him?" + +"I know you love me, Grace: but do you love me enough? Will you give up +the world for me, and let us be happy together, the only way we can? My +darling Grace, I have made our fortune; all the world lies before us; I +left England alone, for you; now leave it with me, and let us roam the +world together." + +"Henry!--what!--when I can not be your wife!" + +"You can be my wife; my wife in reality, as you are his in name +and nothing else. It is idle to talk as if we were in some ordinary +situation. There are plenty of countries that would disown such a +marriage as yours, a mere ceremony obtained by fraud, and canceled by +a stroke with a dagger and instant separation. Oh, my darling, don't +sacrifice both our lives to a scruple that is out of place here. Don't +hesitate; don't delay. I have a carriage waiting outside; end all our +misery by one act of courage, and trust yourself to me; did I ever fail +you?" + +"For shame, Henry! for shame!" + +"It is the only way to happiness. You were quite right; if I kill that +wretch we shall be parted in another way, always parted; now we can be +together for life. Remember, dearest, how I begged you in this very room +to go to the United States with me: you refused: well, have you never +been sorry you refused? Now I once more implore you to be wise and +brave, and love me as I love you. What is the world to us? You are all +the world to me." + +"Answer him, Jael; oh, answer him!" + +"Nay, these are things every woman must answer for herself." + +"And I'll take no answer but yours." Then he threw himself at her feet, +and clasping her in his arms implored her, with all the sighs and tears +and eloquence of passion, to have pity on them both, and fly at once +with him. + +She writhed and struggled faintly, and turned away from him, and fell +tenderly toward him, by turns, and still he held her tight, and grew +stronger, more passionate, more persuasive, as she got weaker and +almost faint. Her body seemed on the point of sinking, and her mind of +yielding. + +But all of a sudden she made a desperate effort. "Let me go!" she cried. +"So this is your love! With all my faults and follies, I am truer than +you. Shame on your love, that would dishonor the creature you love! Let +me go, sir, I say, or I shall hate you worse than I do the wretch whose +name I bear." + +He let her go directly, and then her fiery glance turned to one long +lingering look of deep but tender reproach, and she fled sobbing. + +He sank into a chair, and buried his face in his hands. + +After a while he raised his head, and saw Jael Dence looking gravely at +him. + +"Oh, speak your mind," said he, bitterly. + +"You are like the world. You think only of yourself; that's all I have +to say." + +"You are very unkind to say so. I think for us both: and she will think +with me, in time. I shall come again to-morrow." + +He said this with an iron resolution that promised a long and steady +struggle, to which Grace, even in this first encounter, had shown +herself hardly equal. + +Jael went to her room, expecting to find her as much broken down as she +was by Henry's first visit; but, instead of that, the young lady was +walking rapidly to and fro. + +At sight of Jael, she caught her by the hand, and said, "Well!" + +"He is coming again to-morrow." + +"Is he sorry?" + +"Not he." + +"Who would have thought he was so wicked?" + +This seemed rather exaggerated to Jael; for with all Mrs. Little's +teaching she was not quite a lady yet in all respects, though in many +things she was always one by nature. "Let it pass," said she. + + "'It is a man's part to try, + And a woman's to deny.'" + +"And how often shall I have to deny him I love so dearly?" + +"As often as he asks you to be his mistress; for, call it what you like, +that is all he has to offer you." + +Grace hid her face in her hands. + +Jael colored. "Excuse my blunt speaking; but sometimes the worst word is +the best; fine words are just words with a veil on." + +"Will he dare to tempt me again, after what I said?" + +"Of course he will: don't you know him? he never gives in. But, suppose +he does, you have your answer ready." + +"Jael," said Grace, "you are so strong, it blinds you to my weakness. +I resist him, day after day! I, who pity him so, and blame myself! Why, +his very look, his touch, his voice, overpower me so that my whole frame +seems dissolving: feel how I tremble at him, even now. No, no; let those +resist who are sure of their strength. Virtue, weakened by love and +pity, has but one resource--to fly. Jael Dence, if you are a woman, help +me to save the one thing I have got left to save." + +"I will," said Jael Dence. + +In one hour from that time they had packed a box and a carpetbag, and +were on their way to a railway station. They left Hillsborough. + +In three days Jael returned, but Grace Coventry did not come back with +her. + + +The day after that trying scene, Henry Little called, not to urge Grace +again, as she presumed he would, but to ask pardon: at the same time we +may be sure of this--that, after a day or two spent in obtaining pardon, +the temptation would have been renewed, and so on forever. Of this, +however, Little was not conscious: he came to ask pardon, and offer a +pure and patient love, till such time as Heaven should have pity on them +both. He was informed that Mrs. Coventry had quitted Hillsborough, and +left a letter for him. It was offered him; he snatched it and read it. + + +"MY OWN DEAR HENRY,--You have given me something to forgive, and I +forgive you without asking, as I hope you will one day forgive me. I +have left Hillsborough to avoid a situation that was intolerable and +solicitations which I blushed to hear, and for which you would one day +have blushed too. This parting is not forever, I hope; but that +rests with yourself. Forego your idea of vengeance on that man, whose +chastisement you would best alleviate by ending his miserable existence; +and learn to love me honorably and patiently, as I love you. Should +you obtain this great victory over yourself, you will see me again. +Meantime, think of her who loves you to distraction, and whose soul +hovers about you unseen. Pray for me, dear one, at midnight, and at +eight o'clock every morning; for those are two of the hours I shall pray +for you. Do you remember the old church, and how you cried over me? I +can write no more: my tears blind me so. Farewell. Your unhappy + +"GRACE." + + +Little read this piteous letter, and it was a heavy blow to him; a blow +that all the tenderness shown in it could not at first soften. She had +fled from him; she shunned him. It was not from Coventry she fled; it +was from him. + +He went home cold and sick at heart, and gave himself up to grief and +deep regrets for several days. + +But soon his powerful and elastic mind, impatient of impotent sorrow, +and burning for some kind of action, seized upon vengeance as the only +thing left to do. + +At this period he looked on Coventry as a beast in human shape, whom he +had a moral right to extinguish; only, as he had not a legal right, it +must be done with consummate art. He trusted nobody; spoke to nobody; +but set himself quietly to find out where Coventry lived, and what were +his habits. He did this with little difficulty. Coventry lodged in a +principal street, but always dined at a club, and returned home late, +walking through a retired street or two; one of these passed by the +mouth of a narrow court that was little used. + +Little, disguised as a workman, made a complete reconnaissance of this +locality, and soon saw that his enemy was at his mercy. + +But, while he debated within himself what measure of vengeance he should +take, and what noiseless weapon he should use, an unseen antagonist +baffled him. That antagonist was Grace Carden. Still foreboding +mischief, she wrote to Mr. Coventry, from a town two hundred miles +distant: + + +"Whatever you are now, you were born a gentleman, and will, I think, +respect a request from a lady you have wronged. Mr. Little has returned, +and I have left Hillsborough; if he encounters you in his despair, he +will do you some mortal injury. This will only make matters worse, and I +dread the scandal that will follow, and to hear my sad story in a court +of law as a justification for his violence. Oblige me, then, by leaving +Hillsborough for a time, as I have done." + + +On receipt of this, Coventry packed up his portmanteau directly, and, +leaving Lally behind to watch the town, and see whether this was a ruse, +he went directly to the town whence Grace's letter was dated, and to the +very hotel. + +This she had foreseen and intended. + +He found she had been there, and had left for a neighboring +watering-place: he followed her thither, and there she withdrew the +clew; she left word she was gone to Stirling; but doubled on him, +and soon put hundreds of miles between them. He remained in Scotland, +hunting her. + +Thus she played the gray plover with him she hated, and kept the beloved +hands from crime. + +When Little found that Coventry had left Hillsborough, he pretended to +himself that he was glad of it. "My darling is right," said he. "I will +obey her, and do nothing contrary to law. I will throw him into prison, +that is all." With these moderated views, he called upon his friend +Ransome, whom of course he had, as yet, carefully avoided, to ask his +aid in collecting the materials for an indictment. He felt sure that +Coventry had earned penal servitude, if the facts could only be put in +evidence. He found Ransome in low spirits, and that excellent public +servant being informed what he was wanted for, said dryly, "Well, but +this will require some ability: don't you think your friend Silly Billy +would be more likely to do it effectually than John Ransome?" + +"Why, Ransome, are you mad?" + +"No, I merely do myself justice. Silly Billy smelt that faulty +grindstone; and I can't smell a rat a yard from my nose, it seems. You +shall judge for yourself. There have been several burglaries in this +town of late, and planned by a master. This put me on my mettle, and +I have done all I could, with my small force, and even pryed about in +person, night after night, and that is not exactly my business, but I +felt it my duty. Well, sir, two nights ago, no more, I had the luck to +come round a corner right upon a job: Alderman Dick's house, full of +valuables, and the windows well guarded; but one of his cellars is only +covered with a heavy wooden shutter, bolted within. I found this open, +and a board wedged in, to keep it ajar: down I went on my knees, saw a +light inside, and heard two words of thieves' latin; that was enough, +you know; I whipped out the board, jumped on the heavy shutter, and +called for the police." + +"Did you expect them to come?" + +"Not much. These jobs are timed so as not to secure the attendance +of the police. But assistance of another kind came; a gentleman full +dressed, in a white tie and gloves, ran up, and asked me what it +was. 'Thieves in the cellar,' said I, and shouted police, and gave my +whistle. The gentleman jumped on the shutter. 'I can keep that down,' +said he. 'I'm sure I saw two policemen in acorn Street: run quick!' and +he showed me his sword-cane, and seemed so hearty in it, and confident, +I ran round the corner, and gave my whistle. Two policemen came up; but, +in that moment, the swell accomplice had pulled all his pals out of +the cellar, and all I saw of the lot, when I came back, was the swell's +swallow-tail coat flying like the wind toward a back slum, where I and +my bobbies should have been knocked on the head, if we had tried to +follow him; but indeed he was too fleet to give us the chance." + +"Well," said Henry, "that was provoking: but who can foresee every thing +all in a moment? I have been worse duped than that a good many times." + +Ransome shook his head. "An old officer of police, like me, not to smell +a swell accomplice. I had only to handcuff that man, and set him down +with me on the shutter, till, in the dispensation of Providence, a bobby +came by." + +He added by way of corollary, "You should send to London for a +detective." + +"Not I," said Henry. "I know you for a sagacious man, and a worthy man, +and my friend. I'll have no one to help me in it but you." + +"Won't you?" said Ransome. "Then I'll go in. You have done me good, Mr. +Little, by sticking to a defeated friend like this. Now for your case; +tell me all you know, and how you know it." + +Henry complied, and Ransome took his notes. Then he said, he had got +some old memoranda by him, that might prove valuable: he would call in +two days. + +He did call, and showed Henry Coventry's card, and told him he +had picked it up close by his letter-box, on the very night of the +explosion. "Mark my words, this will expand into something," said the +experienced officer. + +Before he left, he told Henry that he had now every reason to +believe the swell accomplice was Shifty Dick, the most successful and +distinguished criminal in England. "I have just got word from London +that he has been working here, and has collared a heavy swag; he says +he will go into trade: one of his old pals let that out in jail. Trade! +then heaven help his customers, that is all." + +"You may catch him yet." + +"When I catch Jack-a-lantern. He is not so green as to stay a day in +Hillsborough, now his face has been close to mine; they all know I +never forget a face. No, no; I shall never see him again, till I am +telegraphed for, to inspect his mug and his wild-cat eyes in some jail +or other. I must try and not think of him; it disturbs my mind, and +takes off my attention from my duties." + +Ransome adhered to this resolution for more than a month, during which +time he followed out every indication with the patience of a beagle; +and, at last, he called one day and told Little Hill had forfeited his +bail, and gone to Canada at the expense of the trade; but had let +out strange things before he left. There was a swell concerned in his +attempt with the bow and arrow: there was a swell concerned in the +explosion, with some workman, whose name he concealed; he had seen them +on the bridge, and had seen the workman receive a bag of gold, and had +collared him, and demanded his share; this had been given him, but not +until he threatened to call the bobbies. "Now, if we could find Hill, +and get him to turn Queen's evidence, this, coupled with what you and +I could furnish, would secure your man ten years of penal servitude. I +know an able officer at Quebec. Is it worth while going to the expense?" + +Little, who had received the whole communication in a sort of +despondent, apathetic way, replied that he didn't think it was worth +while. "My good friend," said he, "I am miserable. Vengeance, I find, +will not fill a yearning heart. And the truth is, that all this time I +have been secretly hoping she would return, and that has enabled me to +bear up, and chatter about revenge. Who could believe a young creature +like that would leave her father and all her friends for good? I made +sure she would come back in a week or two. And to think that it is I who +have driven her away, and darkened my own life. I thought I had sounded +the depths of misery. I was a fool to think so. No, no; life would be +endurable if I could only see her face once a day, and hear her voice, +though it was not even speaking to me. Oh! oh!" + +Now this was the first time Little had broken down before Ransome. +Hitherto he had spoken of Coventry, but not of Grace; he had avoided +speaking of her, partly from manly delicacy, partly because he foresaw +his fortitude would give way if he mentioned her. + +But now the strong man's breast seemed as if it would burst, and his +gasping breath, and restless body, betrayed what a price he must have +paid for the dogged fortitude he had displayed for several weeks, +love-sick all the time. + +Ransome was affected: he rose and walked about the room, ashamed to look +at a Spartan broken down. + +When he had given Little time to recover some little composure, he said, +"Mr. Little, you were always too much of a gentleman to gossip about the +lady you love; and it was not my business to intrude upon that subject; +it was too delicate. But, of course, with what I have picked up here +and there, and what you have let drop, without the least intending it, I +know pretty well how the land lies. And, sir, a man does not come to my +time of life without a sore and heavy heart; if I was to tell you how I +came to be a bachelor--but, no; even after ten years I could not answer +for myself. All I can say is that, if you should do me the honor to +consult me on something that is nearer your heart than revenge, you +would have all my sympathy and all my zeal." + +"Give me your hand, old fellow," said Little, and broke down again. + +But, this time, he shook it off quickly, and, to encourage him, Mr. +Ransome said, "To begin, you may take my word Mr. Carden knows, by this +time, where his daughter is. Why not sound him on the matter?" + +Henry acted on this advice, and called on Mr. Carden. + +He was received very coldly by that gentleman. + +After some hesitation, he asked Mr. Carden if he had any news of his +daughter. + +"I have." + +The young man's face was irradiated with joy directly. + +"Is she well, sir?" + +"Yes." + +"Is she happier than she was?" + +"She is content." + +"Has she friends about her? Kind, good people; any persons of her own +sex, whom she can love?" + +"She is among people she takes for angels, at present. She will find +them to be petty, mean, malicious devils. She is in a Protestant +convent." + +"In a convent? Where?" + +"Where? Where neither the fool nor the villain, who have wrecked her +happiness between them, and robbed me of her, will ever find her. I +expected this visit, sir; the only thing I doubted was which would come +first, the villain or the fool. The fool has come first, and being a +fool, expects ME to tell him where to find his victim, and torture +her again. Begone, fool, from the house you have made desolate by your +execrable folly in slipping away by night like a thief, or rather like +that far more dangerous animal, a fool." + +The old man delivered these insults with a purple face, and a loud fury, +that in former days would have awakened corresponding rage in the fiery +young fellow. But affliction had tempered him, and his insulter's hairs +were gray. + +He said, quietly, "You are her father. I forgive you these cruel words." +Then he took his hat and went away. + +Mr. Carden followed him to the passage, and cried after him, "The +villain will meet a worse reception than the fool. I promise you that +much." + +Little went home despondent, and found a long letter from his mother, +telling him he must dine and sleep at Raby Hall that day. + +She gave him such potent reasons, and showed him so plainly his refusal +would infuriate his uncle, and make her miserable, that he had no +choice. He packed up his dress suit, and drove to Raby Hall, with a +heavy heart and bitter reluctance. + +O caeca mens hominum. + + + + +CHAPTER XLI. + + +It was the great anniversary. On that day Sir Richard Raby had lost for +the Stuarts all the head he possessed. His faithful descendent seized +the present opportunity to celebrate the event with more pomp than ever. +A month before the fatal day he came in from Hillsborough with sixty +yards of violet-colored velvet, the richest that could be got from +Lyons; he put this down on a table, and told his sister that was for her +and Jael to wear on the coming anniversary. "Don't tell me there's not +enough," said he; "for I inquired how much it would take to carpet two +small rooms, and bought it; now what will carpet two little libraries +will clothe two large ladies; and you are neither of you shrimps." + +While he was thus doing the cynical, nobody heeded him; quick and +skillful fingers were undoing the parcel, and the ladies' cheeks flushed +and their eyes glistened, and their fingers felt the stuff inside and +out: in which occupation Raby left them, saying, "Full dress, mind! We +Rabys are not beheaded every day." + +Mrs. Little undertook to cut both dresses, and Jael was to help sew +them. + +But, when they came to be tried on, Jael was dismayed. "Why, I shall be +half naked," said she. "Oh, Mrs. Little, I couldn't: I should sink with +shame." + +Mrs. Little pooh-poohed that, and an amusing dialogue followed between +these two women, both of them equally modest, but one hardened, and +perhaps a little blinded, by custom. + +Neither could convince the other, but Mrs. Little overpowered Jael by +saying, "I shall wear mine low, and you will mortally offend my brother +if you don't." + +Then Jael succumbed, but looked forward to the day with a simple +terror one would hardly have expected from the general strength of her +character. + +Little arrived, and saw his mother for a minute or two before dinner. +She seemed happy and excited, and said, "Cheer up, darling; we will find +a way to make you happy. Mark my words, a new era in your life dates +from to-day: I mean to open your eyes tonight. There, don't question me, +but give me one kiss, and let us go and make ourselves splendid for poor +Sir Richard." + +When Little came down-stairs he found his uncle and a +distinguished-looking young gentleman standing before the fire; both +were in full dress. Raby had the Stuart orders on his breast and looked +a prince. He introduced Little to Mr. Richard Raby with high formality; +but, before they had time to make acquaintance, two ladies glided into +the room, and literally dazzled the young men, especially Dissolute +Dick, who knew neither of them. + +Mrs. Little, with her oval face, black brow and hair, and stately +but supple form, was a picture of matronly beauty and grace; her rich +brunette skin, still glossy and firm, showed no signs of age, but under +her glorious eyes were the marks of trouble; and though her face was +still striking and lovely, yet it revealed what her person +concealed, that she was no longer young. That night she looked about +eight-and-thirty. + +The other lady was blonde, and had a face less perfect in contour, but +beautiful in its way, and exquisite in color and peach-like bloom; but +the marvel was her form; her comely head, dignified on this occasion +with a coronet of pearls, perched on a throat long yet white and +massive, and smooth as alabaster; and that majestic throat sat enthroned +on a snowy bust and shoulders of magnificent breadth, depth, grandeur, +and beauty. Altogether it approached the gigantic; but so lovely was the +swell of the broad white bosom, and so exquisite the white and polished +skin of the mighty shoulders adorned with two deep dimples, that the awe +this grand physique excited was mingled with profound admiration. + +Raby and Henry Little both started at the sudden grandeur and brilliance +of the woman they thought they knew, but in reality had never seen; and +Raby, dazzled himself, presented her, quite respectfully, to Dissolute +Dick. + +"This is Miss Dence, a lady descended, like the rest of us, from poor +Sir Richard; Miss Dence; Mr. Richard Raby." + +Jael blushed more deeply than ladies with white and antique busts are in +the habit of doing, and it was curious to see the rosy tint come on her +white neck, and then die quietly away again. Yet she courtesied with +grace and composure. (Mrs. Little had trained her at all points; and +grace comes pretty readily, where nature has given perfect symmetry.) + +Dinner was announced, and Raby placed the Dissolute between his sister +and the magnificent Beauty dead Sir Richard had developed. He even gave +a reason for this arrangement. + +"All you ladies like a rake: you PRAISE sober fellows like me; but what +you PREFER is a Rake." + +As they were rustling into their places, Mrs. Little said to Dick, with +a delicious air of indifference, "ARE you a rake, Mr. Raby?" + +"I am anything you like," replied the shameless fellow. + +All the old plate was out, and blazing in the light of candles +innumerable. + +There was one vacant chair. + +Dick asked if there was anybody expected. + +"Not much," said Raby dryly. "That is Sir Richard's chair, on these +occasions. However, he may be sitting in it now, for aught I know. I +sincerely hope he is." + +"If I thought that, I'd soon leave mine," said Jael, in a tremulous +whisper. + +"Then stay where you are, Sir Richard," said the Rake, making an +affected motion with his handkerchief, as if to keep the good Knight +down. + +In short, this personage, being young, audacious, witty, and animated +by the vicinity of the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, soon +deprived the anniversary of that solemn character Mr. Raby desired to +give it. Yet his volubility, his gayety, and his chaff were combined +with a certain gentlemanlike tact and dexterity; and he made Raby laugh +in spite of himself, and often made the ladies smile. But Henry Little +sat opposite, and wondered at them all, and his sad heart became very +bitter. + +When they joined the ladies in the drawing-room, Henry made an effort to +speak to Jael Dence. He was most anxious to know whether she had heard +from Grace Carden. But Jael did not meet him very promptly, and while +he was faltering out his inquiries, up came Richard Raby and resumed his +attentions to her--attentions that very soon took the form of downright +love-making. In fact he stayed an hour after his carriage was announced, +and being a young man of great resolution, and accustomed to please +himself, he fell over head and ears in love with Miss Dence, and showed +it then and thereafter. + +It did not disturb her composure. She had often been made love to, and +could parry as well as Dick could fence. + +She behaved with admirable good sense; treated it all as a polite jest, +but not a disagreeable one. + +Mrs. Little lost patience with them both. She drew Henry aside, and +asked him why he allowed Mr. Richard Raby to monopolize her. + +"How can I help it?" said Henry. "He is in love with her; and no wonder: +see how beautiful she is, and her skin like white satin. She is ever +so much bigger than I thought. But her heart is bigger than all. Who'd +think she had ever condescended to grind saws with me?" + +"Who indeed? And with those superb arms!" + +"Why, that is it, mother; they are up to anything; it was one of those +superb arms she flung round a blackguard's neck for me, and threw him +like a sack, or I should not be here. Poor girl! Do you think that +chatterbox would make her happy?" + +"Heaven forbid! He is not worthy of her. No man is worthy of her, except +the one I mean her to have, and that is yourself." + +"Me, mother! are you mad?" + +"No; you are mad, if you reject her. Where can you hope to find her +equal? In what does she fail? In face? why it is comeliness, goodness, +and modesty personified. In person? why she is the only perfect figure I +ever saw. Such an arm, hand, foot, neck, and bust I never saw all in the +same woman. Is it sense? why she is wise beyond her years, and beyond +her sex. Think of her great self-denial; she always loved you, yet +aided you, and advised you to get that mad young thing you preferred to +her--men are so blind in choosing women! Then think of her saving your +life: and then how nearly she lost her own, through her love for you. +Oh, Henry, if you cling to a married woman, and still turn away from +that angelic creature there, and disappoint your poor mother again, +whose life has been one long disappointment, I shall begin to fear you +were born without a heart." + + + + +CHAPTER XLII. + + +"Better for me if I had; then I could chop and change from one to +another as you would have me. No, mother; I dare say if I had never seen +Grace I should have loved Jael. As it is, I have a great affection and +respect for her, but that is all." + +"And those would ripen into love if once you were married." + +"They might. If it came to her flinging that great arm round my neck in +kindness she once saved my life with by brute force, I suppose a man's +heart could not resist her. But it will never come to that while my +darling lives. She is my lover, and Jael my sister and my dear friend. +God bless her, and may she be as happy as she deserves. I wish I could +get a word with her, but that seems out of the question to-night. I +shall slip away to bed and my own sad thoughts." + +With this he retired unobserved. + +In the morning he asked Jael if she would speak to him alone. + +"Why not?" said she calmly. + +They took a walk in the shrubbery. + +"I tried hard to get a word with you yesterday, but you were so taken up +with that puppy." + +"He is very good company." + +"I have seen the time when I was as good; but it is not so easy to +chatter with a broken heart." + +"That is true. Please come to the point, and tell me what you want of me +now." + +This was said in such a curious tone, that Henry felt quite discouraged. + +He hesitated a moment and then said, "What is the matter with you? +You are a changed girl to me. There's something about you so cold and +severe; it makes me fear I have worn out my friend as well as lost my +love; if it is so, tell me, and I will not intrude my sorrow any more on +you." + +There was a noble and manly sadness in the way he said this, and Jael +seemed touched a little by it. + +"Mr. Henry," said she, "I'll be frank with you. I can't forgive you +leaving the factory that night without saying a word to me; and if you +consider what I had done before you used me so, and what I suffered +in consequence of your using me so--not that you will ever know all I +suffered, at least I hope not--no, I have tried to forgive you; for, if +you are a sinner, you are a sufferer--but it is no use, I can't. I never +shall forgive you to my dying day." + +Henry Little hung his head dejectedly. "That is bad news," he faltered. +"I told you why I did not bid you good-by except by letter: it was out +of kindness. I have begged your pardon for it all the same. I thought +you were an angel; but I see you are only a woman; you think the time to +hit a man is when he is down. Well, I can but submit. Good-by. Stay one +moment, let me take your hand, you won't refuse me that." She did not +deign a word; he took her hand and held it. "This is the hand and arm +that worked with me like a good master: this is the hand and arm that +overpowered a blackguard and saved me: this is the hand and arm that +saved my Grace from a prison and public shame. I must give them both one +kiss, if they knock me down for it. There--there--good-by, dear Jael, +good-by! I seem to be letting go the last thing I have to cling to in +the deep waters of trouble." + +Melted by this sad thought, he held his best friend's hand till a warm +tear dropped on it. That softened her; the hand to which he owed so much +closed on his and detained him. + +"Stay where you are. I have told you my mind, but I shall ACT just as I +used to do. I'm not proud of this spite I have taken against you, don't +you fancy that. There--there, don't let us fret about what can't be +helped; but just tell me what I can DO for you." + +Young Little felt rather humiliated at assistance being offered on these +terms. He did not disguise his mortification. + +"Well," said he, rather sullenly, "beggars must not be choosers. Of +course I wanted you to tell me where I am likely to find her." + +"I don't know." + +"But you left Hillsborough with her?" + +"Yes, and went to York. But there I left her, and she told me she should +travel hundreds of miles from York. I have no notion where she is." + +Little sighed. "She could not trust even you." + +"The fewer one trusts with a secret the better." + +"Will she never return? Will she give up her father as well as me? Did +she fix no time? Did she give you no hint?" + +"No, not that I remember. She said that depended on you." + +"On me?" + +"Yes." + +Here was an enigma. + +They puzzled over it a long time. At last Jael said, "She wrote a letter +to you before she left: did she say nothing in that? Have you got the +letter?" + +"Have I got it?--the last letter my darling ever wrote to me! Do you +think it ever leaves me night or day?" + +He undid one of his studs, put his hand inside, and drew the letter +out warm from his breast. He kissed it and gave it to Jael. She read +it carefully and looked surprised. "Why, you are making your own +difficulties. You have only got to do what you are told. Promise not +to fall foul of that Coventry, and not to tempt her again, and you will +hear of her. You have her own word for it." + +"But how am I to let her know I promise?" + +"I don't know; how does everybody let everybody know things nowadays? +They advertise." + +"Of course they do--in the second column of 'The Times.'" + +"You know best." Then, after a moment's reflection, "Wherever she is, +she takes in the Hillsborough papers to see if there's anything about +you in them." + +"Oh, do you think so?" + +"Think so? I am sure of it. I put myself in her place." + +"Then I will advertise in 'The Times' and the Hillsborough papers." + +He went into the library and wrote several advertisements. This is the +one Jael preferred: + + +"H. L. to G. C. I see you are right. There shall be no vengeance except +what the law may give me, nor will I ever renew that request which +offended you so justly. I will be patient." + + +He had added an entreaty that she would communicate with him, but this +Jael made him strike out. She thought that might make Grace suspect his +sincerity. "Time enough to put that in a month hence, if you don't hear +from her." + +This was all I think worth recording in the interview between Jael and +Henry, except that at parting he thanked her warmly, and said, "May I +give you one piece of advice in return? Mr. Richard Raby has fallen in +love with you, and no wonder. If my heart was not full of Grace I should +have fallen in love with you myself, you are so good and so beautiful; +but he bears a bad character. You are wise in other people's affairs, +pray don't be foolish in your own." + +"Thank you," said Jael, a little dryly. "I shall think twice before I +give my affections to any young man." + +Henry had a word with his mother before he went, and begged her not +to prepare disappointment for herself by trying to bring Jael and him +together. "Besides, she has taken a spite against me. To be sure it is +not very deep; for she gave me good advice; and I advised her not to +throw herself away on Dissolute Dick." + +Mrs. Little smiled knowingly and looked very much pleased, but she said +nothing more just then. Henry Little returned to Hillsborough, and put +his advertisement in "The Times" and the Hillsborough journals. + +Two days afterward Ransome called on him with the "Hillsborough +Liberal." "Is this yours?" said Ransome. + +"Yes. I have reason to think she will write to me, if she sees it." + +"Would you mind giving me your reason?" + +Little gave it, but with so much reticence, that no other man in +Hillsborough but Ransome would have understood. + +"Hum!" said he, "I think I can do something with this." A period of +expectation succeeded, hopeful at first, and full of excitement; but +weeks rolled on without a word from the fugitive, and Little's heart +sickened with hope deferred. He often wished to consult Jael Dence +again; he had a superstitious belief in her sagacity. But the +recollection of her cold manner deterred him. At last, however, +impatience and the sense of desolation conquered, and he rode over to +Raby Hall. + +He found his uncle and his mother in the dining-room. Mr. Raby was +walking about looking vexed, and even irritable. + +The cause soon transpired. Dissolute Dick was at that moment in the +drawing-room, making hot love to Jael Dence. He had wooed her ever since +that fatal evening when she burst on society full-blown. Raby, too +proud and generous to forbid his addresses, had nevertheless been always +bitterly averse to them, and was now in a downright rage; for Mrs. +Little had just told him she felt sure he was actually proposing. + +"Confound him!" said Henry, "and I wanted so to speak to her." + +Raby gave him a most singular look, that struck him as odd at the time, +and recurred to him afterward. + +At last steps were heard overhead, and Dissolute Dick came down-stairs. + +Mrs. Little slipped out, and soon after put her head into the +dining-room to the gentlemen, and whispered to them "YES." Then she +retired to talk it all over with Jael. + +At that monosyllable Mr. Raby was very much discomposed. + +"There goes a friend out of this house; more fools we. You have lost her +by your confounded folly. What is the use spooning all your days after +another man's wife? I wouldn't have had this happen for ten thousand +pounds. Dissolute Dick! he will break her heart in a twelvemouth." + +"Then why, in heaven's name, didn't you marry her yourself?" + +"Me! at my age? No; why didn't YOU marry her? You know she fancies you. +The moment you found Grace married, you ought to have secured this girl, +and lived with me; the house is big enough for you all." + +"It is not so big as your heart, sir," said Henry. "But pray don't speak +to me of love or marriage either." + +"Why should I? The milk is spilt; it is no use crying now. Let us go and +dress for dinner. Curse the world--it is one disappointment." + +Little himself was vexed, but he determined to put a good face on it, +and to be very kind to his good friend Jael. + +She did not appear at dinner, and when the servants had retired, he +said, "Come now, let us make the best of it. Mother, if you don't mind, +I will settle five thousand pounds upon her and her children. He is a +spendthrift, I hear, and as poor as Job." + +Mrs. Little stared at her son. "Why, she has refused him!" + +Loud exclamations of surprise and satisfaction. + +"A fine fright you have given us. You said 'Yes.'" + +"Well, that meant he had proposed. You know, Guy, I had told you he +would: I saw it in his eye. So I observed, in a moment, he HAD, and I +said 'Yes.'" + +"Then why doesn't she come down to dinner?" + +"He has upset her. It is the old story: he cried to her, and told her he +had been wild, and misconducted himself, all because he had never met +a woman he could really love and respect; and then he begged her, and +implored her, and said his fate depended on her." + +"But she was not caught with that chaff; so why does she not come and +receive the congratulations of the company on her escape?" + +"Because she is far too delicate;" then, turning to her son, "and +perhaps, because she can't help comparing the manly warmth and loving +appreciation of Mr. Richard Raby, with the cold indifference and +ingratitude of others." + +"Oh," said Henry, coloring, "if that is her feeling, she will accept him +next time." + +"Next time!" roared Raby. "There shall be no next time. I have given the +scamp fair play, quite against my own judgment. He has got his answer +now, and I won't have the girl tormented with him any more. I trust that +to you, Edith." + +Mrs. Little promised him Dick and Jael should not meet again, in Raby +Hall at least. + +That evening she drew her son apart and made an earnest appeal to him. + +"So much for her spite against you, Henry. You told her to decline +Richard Raby, and so she declined him. Spite, indeed! The gentle pique +of a lovely, good girl, who knows her value, though she is too modest +to show it openly. Well, Henry, you have lost her a husband, and she +has given you one more proof of affection. Don't build the mountain of +ingratitude any higher: do pray take the cure that offers, and make +your mother happy, as well as yourself, my son." In this strain she +continued, and used all her art, her influence, her affection, till at +last, with a weary, heart-broken sigh, he yielded as far as this: he +said that, if it could once be made clear to him there was no hope of +his ever marrying Grace Carden he would wed Jael Dence at once. + +Then he ordered his trap, and drove sullenly home, while Mrs. Little, +full of delight, communicated her triumph to Jael Dence, and told her +about the five thousand pounds, and was as enthusiastic in praise of +Henry to Jael, as she had been of Jael to Henry. + +Meantime he drove back to Hillsborough, more unhappy than ever, and +bitter against himself for yielding, even so far, to gratitude and +maternal influence. + +It was late when he reached home. He let himself in with a latch-key, +and went into his room for a moment. + +A letter lay on the table, with no stamp on it: he took it up. It +contained but one line; that line made his heart leap: + +"News of G. C. RANSOME." + + + + +CHAPTER XLIII. + + +Late as it was, Little went to the Town-hall directly. But there, to his +bitter disappointment, he learned that Mr. Ransome had been called to +Manchester by telegram. Little had nothing to do but to wait, and eat +his heart with impatience. However, next day, toward afternoon, Ransome +called on him at the works, in considerable excitement, and told him +a new firm had rented large business premises in Manchester, obtained +goods, insured them in the "Gosshawk," and then the premises had caught +fire and the goods been burned to ashes; suspicions had been excited; +Mr. Carden had gone to the spot and telegraphed for him. He had met a +London detective there, and, between them, they had soon discovered that +full cases had come in by day, but full sacks gone out by night: the +ashes also revealed no trace of certain goods the firm had insured. "And +now comes the clew to it all. Amongst the few things that survived the +fire was a photograph--of whom do you think? Shifty Dick. The dog had +kept his word, and gone into trade." + +"Confound him!" said Little; "he is always crossing my path, that +fellow. You seem quite to forget that all this time I am in agonies of +suspense. What do I care about Shifty Dick? He is nothing to me." + +"Of course not. I am full of the fellow; a little more, and he'll make a +monomaniac of me. Mr. Carden offers L200 for his capture; and we got an +inkling he was coming this way again. There, there, I won't mention his +name to you again. Let us talk of what WILL interest you. Well, sir, +have you observed that you are followed and watched?" + +"No." + +"I am glad of it; then it has been done skillfully. You have been +closely watched this month past by my orders." + +This made young Little feel queer. Suppose he had attempted anything +unlawful, his good friend here would have collared him. + +"You'll wonder that a good citizen like you should be put under +surveillance; but I thought it likely your advertisement would either +make the lady write to you, or else draw her back to the town. She +didn't write, so I had you watched, to see if any body took a sly peep +at you. Well, this went on for weeks, and nothing turned up. But the +other night a young woman walked several times by your house, and went +away with a sigh. She had a sort of Protestant nun's dress on, and a +thick veil. Now you know Mr Carden told you she was gone into a convent. +I am almost sure it is the lady." + +Little thanked him with all his soul, and then inquired eagerly where +the nun lived. + +"Ah, my man didn't know that. Unfortunately, he was on duty in the +street, and had no authority to follow anybody. However, if you can keep +yourself calm, and obey orders--" + +"I will do anything you tell me." + +"Well, then, this evening, as soon as it is quite dark, you do what +I have seen you do in happier times. Light your reading-lamp, and sit +reading close to the window; only you must not pull down the blind. +Lower the venetians, but don't turn them so as to hide your face from +the outside. You must promise me faithfully not to move under any +circumstances, or you would be sure to spoil all." + +Little gave the promise, and performed it to the letter. He lighted +his lamp, and tried to read book after book; but, of course, he was too +agitated to fix his attention on them. He got all Grace's letters, and +read them; and it was only by a stern effort he kept still at all. + +The night wore on, and heart-sickness was beginning to succeed to +feverish impatience, when there was a loud knock at the door. Little +ran to it himself, and found a sergeant of police, who told him in a low +voice he brought a message from the chief-constable. + +"I was to tell you it is all right; he is following the party himself. +He will call on you at twelve to-morrow morning." + +"Not before that?" said Little. However, he gave the sergeant a +sovereign for good news, and then, taking his hat, walked twenty miles +out of Hillsborough, and back, for he knew it was useless his going to +bed, or trying to settle to any thing. + +He got back at ten o'clock, washed, breakfasted, and dozed on two +chairs, till Ransome came, with a carpet-bag in his hand. + +"Tell me all about it: don't omit any thing." This was Little's +greeting. + +"Well, sir, she passed the house about nine o'clock, walking quickly; +and took just one glance in at your window, but did not stop. She came +back in half an hour, and stood on the opposite side of the way, and +then passed on. I hid in a court, where she couldn't see me. By-and-by +she comes back, on your side the way this time, gliding like a cat, and +she crouched and curled round the angle of the house, and took a good +look at you. Then she went slowly away, and I passed her. She was crying +bitterly, poor girl! I never lost sight of her, and she led me a dance, +I can tell you. I'll take you to the place; but you had better let me +disguise you; for I can see she is very timid, and would fly away in a +moment if she knew she was detected." + +Little acquiesced, and Ransome disguised him in a beard and a loose set +of clothes, and a billy-cock hat, and said that would do, as long as he +kept at a prudent distance from the lady's eye. They then took a cab and +drove out of Hillsborough. When they had proceeded about two miles up +the valley, Ransome stopped the cab, and directed the driver to wait for +them. + +He then walked on, and soon came to a row of houses, in two blocks of +four houses each. + +The last house of the first block had a bill in the window, "To be let +furnished." + +He then knocked at the door, and a woman in charge of the house opened +it. + +"I am the chief-constable of Hillsborough; and this is my friend Mr. +Park; he is looking out for a furnished house. Can he see this one?" + +The woman said, "Certainly, gentlemen," and showed them over the house. + +Ransome opened the second-story window, and looked out on the back +garden. + +"Ah," said he, "these houses have nice long gardens in the rear, where +one can walk and be private." + +He then nudged Henry, and asked the woman who lived in the first house +of the next block--"the house that garden belongs to?" + +"Why, the bill was in the window the other day; but it is just took. She +is a kind of a nun, I suppose: keeps no servant: only a girl comes in +and does for her, and goes home at night. I saw her yesterday, walking +in the garden there. She seems rather young to be all alone like that; +but perhaps there's some more of 'em coming. They sort o' cattle mostly +goes in bands." + +Henry asked what was the rent of the house. The woman did not know, +but told him the proprietor lived a few doors off. "I shall take this +house," said Little. "I think you are right," observed Ransome: "it +will just answer your purpose." They went together, and took the house +directly; and Henry, by advice of Ransome, engaged a woman to come into +the house in the morning, and go away at dusk. Ransome also advised him +to make arrangements for watching Grace's garden unseen. "That will be +a great comfort to you," said he: "I know by experience. Above all +things," said this sagacious officer, "don't you let her know she is +discovered. Remember this: when she wants you to know she is here, +she'll be sure to let you know. At present she is here on the sly: so if +you thwart her, she'll be off again, as sure as fate." + +Little was forced to see the truth of this, and promised to restrain +himself, hard as the task was. He took the house; and used to let +himself into it with a latch-key at about ten o clock every night. + +There he used to stay and watch till past noon; and nearly every day he +was rewarded by seeing the Protestant nun walk in her garden. + +He was restless and miserable till she came out; when she appeared his +heart bounded and thrilled; and when once he had feasted his eyes upon +her, he would go about the vulgar affairs of life pretty contentedly. + +By advice of Ransome, he used to sit in his other house from seven till +nine, and read at the window, to afford his beloved a joy similar to +that he stole himself. + +And such is the power of true love that these furtive glances soothed +two lives. Little's spirits revived, and some color came back to Grace's +cheek. + +One night there was a house broken into in the row. + +Instantly Little took the alarm on Grace's account, and bought powder +and bullets, and a double-barreled rifle, and a revolver; and now at the +slightest sound he would be out of bed in a moment ready to defend her, +if necessary. + +Thus they both kept their hearts above water, and Grace visited the +sick, and employed her days in charity; and then, for a reward, crept, +with soft foot, to Henry's window, and devoured him with her eyes, and +fed on that look for hours afterward. + +When this had gone on for nearly a month, Lally, who had orders to keep +his eye on Mr. Little, happened to come and see Grace looking in at him. + +He watched her at a distance, but had not the intelligence to follow her +home. He had no idea it was Grace Carden. + +However, in his next letter to his master, who was then in London, he +told him Little always read at night by the window, and, one night, a +kind of nun had come and taken a very long look at him, and gone away +crying. "I suspect," said Lally, "she has played the fool with him some +time or other, before she was a nun." + +He was not a little surprised when his master telegraphed in reply that +he would be down by the first train; but the fact is, that Coventry +had already called on Mr. Carden, and been told that his wife was in a +convent, and he would never see her again. I must add that Mr. Carden +received him as roughly as he had Little, but the interview terminated +differently. Coventry, with his winning tongue, and penitence and +plausibility, softened the indignant father, and then, appealing to his +good sense, extorted from him the admission that his daughter's only +chance of happiness lay in forgiving him, and allowing him to atone his +faults by a long life of humble devotion. But when Coventry, presuming +on this, implored him to reveal where she was, the old man stood stanch, +and said that was told him under a solemn assurance of secrecy, and +nothing should induce him to deceive his daughter. "I will not lose her +love and confidence for any of you," said he. + +So now Coventry put that word "convent" and this word "nun" together, +and came to Hillsborough full of suspicions. + +He took lodgings nearly opposite Little's house, and watched in a dark +room so persistently, that, at last, he saw the nun appear, saw her +stealthy, cat-like approaches, her affected retreat, her cunning +advance, her long lingering look. + +A close observer of women, he saw in every movement of her supple body +that she was animated by love. + +He raged and sickened with jealousy, and when, at last, she retired, he +followed her, with hell in his heart, and never lost sight of her till +she entered her house in the valley. + +If there had been a house to let in the terrace, he would certainly have +taken it; but Little had anticipated him. + +He took a very humble lodging in the neighborhood; and by dint of +watching, he at last saw the nun speaking to a poor woman with her veil +up. It revealed to him nothing but what he knew already. It was the +woman he loved, and she hated him; the woman who had married him under +a delusion, and stabbed him on his bridal day. He loved her all the more +passionately for that. + +Until he received Lally's note, he had been content to wait patiently +until his rival should lose hope, and carry himself and his affections +elsewhere; he felt sure that must be the end of it. + +But now jealousy stung him, wild passion became too strong for reason, +and he resolved to play a bold and lawless game to possess his lawful +wife. Should it fail, what could they do to him? A man may take his own +by force. Not only his passions, but the circumstances tempted him. She +was actually living alone, in a thinly-peopled district, and close to a +road. It was only to cover her head and stifle her cries, and fly with +her to some place beforehand prepared, where she would be brought to +submission by kindness of manner combined with firmness of purpose. + +Coventry possessed every qualification to carry out such a scheme as +this. He was not very courageous; yet he was not a coward: and no great +courage was required. Cunning, forethought, and unscrupulousness were +the principal things, and these he had to perfection. + +He provided a place to keep her; it was a shooting-box of his own, on a +heathery hill, that nobody visited except for shooting, and the season +for shooting was past. + +He armed himself with false certificates of lunacy, to show on an +emergency, and also a copy of his marriage certificate: he knew how +unwilling strangers are to interfere between man and wife. + +The only great difficulty was to get resolute men to help him in this +act. + +He sounded Cole; but that worthy objected to it, as being out of his +line. + +Coventry talked him over, and offered a sum that made him tremble with +cupidity. He assented on one condition--that he should not be expected +to break into the house, nor do any act that should be "construed +burglarious." He actually used that phrase, which I should hardly have +expected from him. + +Coventry assented to this condition. He undertook to get into the house, +and open the door to Cole and his myrmidons: he stipulated, however, +that Cole should make a short iron ladder with four sharp prongs. By +means of this he could enter Grace's house at a certain unguarded +part and then run down and unbar the front door. He had thoroughly +reconnoitered the premises, and was sure of success. + +First one day was appointed for the enterprise, then another, and, at +last, it was their luck to settle on a certain night, of which I will +only say at present, that it was a night Hillsborough and its suburbs +will not soon forget. + +Midnight was the hour agreed on. + +Now at nine o'clock of this very night the chief-constable of +Hillsborough was drinking tea with Little scarcely twenty yards from the +scene of the proposed abduction. Not that either he or Little had the +least notion of the conspiracy. The fact is, Hillsborough had lately +been deluged with false coin, neatly executed, and passed with great +dexterity. The police had received many complaints, but had been unable +to trace it. Lately, however, an old bachelor, living in this suburban +valley, had complained to the police that his neighbors kept such +enormous fires all night, as to make his wall red-hot and blister his +paint. + +This, and one or two other indications, made Ransome suspect the +existence of a furnace, and he had got a search-warrant in his pocket, +on which, however, he did not think it safe to act till he had watched +the suspected house late at night, and made certain observations for +himself. So he had invited himself to tea with his friend Little--for +he was sure of a hearty welcome at any hour--and, over their tea, he now +told him his suspicions, and invited him to come in and take a look at +the suspected house with him. + +Little consented. But there was no hurry; the later they went to the +house in question the better. So they talked of other matters, and the +conversation soon fell on that which was far more interesting to Little +than the capture of all the coiners in creation. + +He asked Ransome how long he was to go on like this, contenting himself +with the mere sight of her. + +"Why;" said Ransome, "even that has made another man of you. Your eye +is twice as bright as it was a month ago, and your color is coming back. +That is a wise proverb, 'Let well alone.' I hear she visits the sick, +and some of them swear by her. If think I'd give her time to take root +here; and then she will not be so ready to fly off in a tangent." + +Little objected that it was more than flesh and blood could bear. + +"Well, then," said Ransome, "promise me just one thing: that, if you +speak to her, it shall be in Hillsborough, and not down here." + +Little saw the wisdom of this, and consented, but said he was resolved +to catch her at his own window the next time she came. + +He was about to give his reasons, but they were interrupted by a man and +horse clattering up to the door. + +"That will be for me," said Ransome. "I thought I should not get leave +to drink my tea in peace." + +He was right; a mounted policeman brought him a note from the mayor, +telling him word had come into the town that there was something wrong +with Ousely dam. He was to take the mayor's horse, and ride up at once +to the reservoir, and, if there was any danger, to warn the valley. + +"This looks serious," said Ransome. "I must wish you good-by." + +"Take a piece of advice with you. I hear that dam is too full; if +so, don't listen to advice from anybody, but open the sluices of the +waste-pipes, and relieve the pressure; but if you find a flaw in the +embankment, don't trifle, blow up the waste-wear at once with gunpowder. +I wish I had a horse, I'd go with you. By the way, if there is the least +danger of that dam bursting, of course you will give me warning in time, +and I'll get her out of the house at once." + +"What, do you think the water would get as far as this, to do any harm? +It is six miles." + +"It might. Look at the form of the ground; it is a regular trough from +that dam to Hillsborough. My opinion is, it would sweep everything +before it, and flood Hillsborough itself--the lower town. I shall not go +to bed, old fellow, till you come back and tell me it is all right." + +With this understanding Ransome galloped off. On his way he passed by +the house where he suspected coining. The shutters were closed, but +his experienced eye detected a bright light behind one of them, and a +peculiar smoke from the chimney. + +Adding this to his other evidence, he now felt sure the inmates were +coiners, and he felt annoyed. "Fine I look," said he, "walking tamely +past criminals at work, and going to a mayor's nest six miles off." + +However he touched the horse with his heel, and cantered forward on his +errand. + +John Ransome rode up to the Ousely Reservoir, and down again in less +than an hour and a half; and every incident of those two rides is +imprinted on his memory for life. + +He first crossed the water at Poma bridge. The village of that name lay +on his right, toward Hillsborough, and all the lights were out except +in the two public houses. One of these, "The Reindeer," was near the +bridge, and from it a ruddy glare shot across the road, and some boon +companions were singing, in very good harmony, a trite Scotch chorus: + + "We are no that fou, we are no that fou, + But just a drappie in our ee; + The cock may craw, the day may daw, + But still we'll taste the barley bree." + +Ransome could hear the very words; he listened, he laughed, and then +rode up the valley till he got opposite a crinoline-wire factory +called the "Kildare Wheel." Here he observed a single candle burning; a +watcher, no doubt. + +The next place he saw was also on the other side the stream; Dolman's +farm-house, the prettiest residence in the valley. It was built of +stone, and beautifully situated on a promontory between two streams. It +had a lawn in front, which went down to the very edge of the water, and +was much admired for its close turf and flowers. The farm buildings lay +behind the house. + +There was no light whatever in Dolman's; but they were early people. +The house and lawn slept peacefully in the night: the windows were +now shining, now dark, for small fleecy clouds kept drifting at short +intervals across the crescent moon. + +Ransome pushed on across the open ground, and for a mile or two saw +few signs of life, except here and there a flickering light in some +water-wheel, for now one picturesque dam and wheel succeeded another +as rapidly as Nature permitted; and indeed the size of these dams, now +shining in the fitful moonlight, seemed remarkable, compared with the +mere thread of water which fed them, and connected them together for +miles like pearls on a silver string. + +Ransome pushed rapidly on, up hill and down dale, till he reached the +high hill, at whose foot lay the hamlet of Damflask, distant two miles +from Ousely Reservoir. + +He looked down and saw a few lights in this hamlet, some stationary, but +two moving. + +"Hum," thought Ransome, "they don't seem to be quite so easy in their +minds up here." + +He dashed into the place, and drew up at the house where several persons +were collected. + +As he came up, a singular group issued forth: a man with a pig-whip, +driving four children--the eldest not above seven years old--and +carrying an infant in his arms. The little imps were clad in shoes, +night-gowns, night-caps, and a blanket apiece, and were shivering and +whining at being turned out of bed into the night air. + +Ransome asked the man what was the matter + +One of the by-standers laughed, and said, satirically, Ousely dam was to +burst that night, so all the pigs and children were making for the hill. + +The man himself, whose name was Joseph Galton, explained more fully. + +"Sir," said he, "my wife is groaning, and I am bound to obey her. She +had a dream last night she was in a flood, and had to cross a plank +or summut. I quieted her till supper; but then landlord came round and +warned all of us of a crack or summut up at dam. And so now I am taking +this little lot up to my brother's. It's the foolishest job I ever done: +but needs must when the devil drives, and it is better so than to have +my old gal sour her milk, and pine her suckling, and maybe fret herself +to death into the bargain." + +Ransome seized on the information, and rode on directly to the village +inn. He called the landlord out, and asked him what he had been telling +the villagers. Was there any thing seriously amiss up at the reservoir? + +"Nay, I hope not," said the man; "but we got a bit of a fright this +afternoon. A young man rode through, going down to Hillsborough, and +stopped here to have his girth mended; he had broke it coming down our +hill. While he was taking a glass he let out his errand; they had found +a crack in the embankment, and sent him down to Hillsborough to tell Mr. +Tucker, the engineer. Bless your heart, we should never have known aught +about it if his girth hadn't broke." He added, as a reason for thinking +it was not serious that Mr. Tucker had himself inspected the dam just +before tea-time, and hadn't even seen the crack. It was a laboring man +who had discovered it, through crossing the embankment lower down than +usual. "But you see, sir," said he, in conclusion, "we lie very low +here, and right in the track; and so we mustn't make light of a warning. +And, of course, many of the workmen stop here and have their say; and, +to tell you the truth, one or two of them have always misliked the +foundation that embankment is built on: too many old landslips to be +seen about. But, after all, I suppose they can empty the dam, if need +be; and, of course, they will, if there is any danger. I expect Mr. +Tucker up every minute." + +Ransome thanked him for his information and pushed on to Lower Hatfield: +there he found lights in the houses and the inhabitants astir; but he +passed through the village in silence, and came to the great corn-mill, +a massive stone structure with granite pillars, the pride of the +place. The building was full of lights, and the cranes were all at work +hoisting the sacks of flour from the lower floors to the top story. The +faces of the men reflected in the flaring gas, and the black cranes with +their gaunt arms, and the dark bodies rising by the snake-like +cords, formed a curious picture in the fluctuating moonlight, and an +interesting one too; for it showed the miller did not feel his flour +quite safe. + +The next place Ransome came to was Fox Farm. + +Farmer Emden was standing at the door of his house, and, in reply to +Ransome, told him he had just come down from the reservoir. He had seen +the crack and believed it to be a mere frost crack. He apprehended no +danger, and had sent his people to bed; however, he should sit up for an +hour or two just to hear what Tucker the engineer had to say about it; +he had been sent for. + +Ransome left him, and a smart canter brought him in sight of what seemed +a long black hill, with great glow-worms dotted here and there. + +That hill was the embankment, and the glow-worms were the lanterns of +workmen examining the outer side of the embankment and prying into every +part. + +The enormous size and double slope of the bank, its apparent similarity +in form and thickness to those natural barriers with which nature hems +in lakes of large dimensions, acted on Ransome's senses, and set him +wondering at the timidity and credulity of the people in Hatfield and +Damflask. This sentiment was uppermost in his mind when he rode up to +the south side of the embankment. + +He gave his horse to a boy, and got upon the embankment and looked +north. + +The first glance at the water somewhat shook that impression of absolute +security the outer side of the barrier had given him. + +In nature a lake lies at the knees of the restraining hills, or else has +a sufficient outlet. + +But here was a lake nearly full to the brim on one side of the barrier +and an open descent on the other. + +He had encountered a little wind coming up, but not much; here, however, +the place being entirely exposed, the wind was powerful and blew right +down the valley ruffling the artificial lake. + +Altogether it was a solemn scene, and, even at first glance, one that +could not be surveyed, after all those comments and reports, without +some awe and anxiety. The surface of the lake shone like a mirror, and +waves of some size dashed against the embankment with a louder roar than +one would have thought possible, and tossed some spray clean over all; +while, overhead, clouds, less fleecy now, and more dark and sullen, +drifted so swiftly across the crescent moon that she seemed flying +across the sky. + +Having now realized that the embankment, huge as it was, was not so high +by several hundred feet as nature builds in parallel cases, and that, +besides the natural pressure of the whole water, the upper surface of +the lake was being driven by the wind against the upper or thin part of +the embankment, Ransome turned and went down the embankment to look at +the crack and hear opinions. + +There were several workmen, an intelligent farmer called Ives, and Mr. +Mountain, one of the contractors who had built the dam, all examining +the crack. + +Mr. Mountain was remarking that the crack was perfectly dry, a plain +proof there was no danger. + +"Ay, but," said Ives, "it has got larger since tea-time; see, I can get +my hand in now." + +"Can you account for that?" asked Ransome of the contractor. + +Mountain said it was caused by the embankment settling. "Everything +settles down a little--houses and embankments and all. There's no +danger, Mr. Ransome, believe me." + +"Well, sir," said Ransome, "I am not a man of science, but I have got +eyes, and I see the water is very high, and driving against your weak +part. Ah!" Then he remembered Little's advice. "Would you mind opening +the sluice-pipes?" + +"Not in the least, but I think it is the engineer's business to give an +order of that kind." + +"But he is not here, and professional etiquette must give way where +property and lives, perhaps, are at stake. To tell you the truth, Mr. +Mountain, I have got the advice of an abler man than Mr. Tucker. His +word to me was, 'If the water is as high as they say, don't waste time, +but open the sluices and relieve the dam.'" + +The workmen who had said scarcely a word till then, raised an assenting +murmur at the voice of common sense. + +Mountain admitted it could do no harm, and gave an order accordingly; +screws wore applied and the valves of the double set of sluice-pipes +were forced open, but with infinite difficulty, owing to the tremendous +pressure of the water. + +This operation showed all concerned what a giant they were dealing with; +while the sluices were being lifted, the noise and tremor of the pipes +were beyond experience and conception. When, after vast efforts, they +were at last got open, the ground trembled violently, and the water, as +it rushed out of the pipes, roared like discharges of artillery. So hard +is it to resist the mere effect of the senses, that nearly every body +ran back appalled, although the effect of all this roaring could only +be to relieve the pressure; and, in fact, now that those sluices were +opened, the dam was safe, provided it could last a day or two. + +Lights were seen approaching, and Mr. Tucker, the resident engineer, +drove up; he had Mr. Carter, one of the contractors, in the gig with +him. + +He came on the embankment, and signified a cold approval of the sluices +being opened. + +Then Ransome sounded him about blowing up the waste-wear. + +Tucker did not reply, but put some questions to a workman or two. Their +answers showed that they considered the enlargement of the crack a fatal +sign. + +Upon this Mr. Tucker ordered them all to stand clear of the suspected +part. + +"Now, then," said he, "I built this embankment, and I'll tell you +whether it is going to burst or not." + +Then he took a lantern, and was going to inspect the crack himself; but +Mr. Carter, respecting his courage and coolness, would accompany him. +They went to the crack, examined it carefully with their lanterns, and +then crossed over to the waste-wear; no water was running into it in the +ordinary way, which showed the dam was not full to its utmost capacity. + +They returned, and consulted with Mountain. + +Ransome put in his word, and once more remembering Little's advice, +begged them to blow up the waste-wear. + +Tucker thought that was a stronger measure than the occasion required; +there was no immediate danger; and the sluice-pipes would lower the +water considerably in twenty-four hours. + +Farmer Ives put in his word. "I can't learn from any of you that an +enlarging crack in a new embankment is a common thing. I shall go home, +but my boots won't come off this night." + +Encouraged by this, Mr. Mountain, the contractor, spoke out. + +"Mr. Tucker," said he, "don't deceive yourself; the sluice-pipes are +too slow; if we don't relieve the dam, there'll be a blow-up in half an +hour; mark my words." + +"Well," said Mr. Tucker, "no precaution has been neglected in building +this dam: provision has been made even for blowing up the waste-wear; +a hole has been built in the masonry, and there's dry powder and a fuse +kept at the valve-house. I'll blow up the waste-wear, though I think it +needless. I am convinced that crack is above the level of the water in +the reservoir." + +This observation struck Ransome, and he asked if it could not be +ascertained by measurement. + +"Of course it can," said Tucker, "and I'll measure it as I come back." + +He then started for the wear, and Carter accompanied him. + +They crossed the embankment, and got to the wear. + +Ives went home, and the workmen withdrew to the side, not knowing +exactly what might be the effect of the explosion. + +By-and-by Ransome looked up, and observed a thin sheet of water +beginning to stream over the center of the embankment and trickle +down: the quantity was nothing; but it alarmed him. Having no special +knowledge on these matters, he was driven to comparisons; and it flashed +across him that, when he was a boy, and used to make little mud-dams in +April, they would resist the tiny stream until it trickled over them, +and from that moment their fate was sealed. Nature, he had observed, +operates alike in small things and great, and that sheet of water, +though thin as a wafer, alarmed him. + +He thought it was better to give a false warning than withhold a true +one; he ran to his horse, jumped on him, and spurred away. + +His horse was fast and powerful, and carried him in three minutes back +to Emden's farm. The farmer had gone to bed. Ransome knocked him up, and +told him he feared the dam was going; then galloped on to Hatfield Mill. +Here he found the miller and his family all gathered outside, ready for +a start; one workman had run down from the reservoir. + +"The embankment is not safe." + +"So I hear. I'll take care of my flour and my folk. The mill will take +care of itself." And he pointed with pride to the solid structure and +granite pillars. + +Ransome galloped on, shouting as he went. + +The shout was taken up ahead, and he heard a voice crying in the night, +"IT'S COMING! IT'S COMING!" This weird cry, which, perhaps, his own +galloping and shouting had excited, seemed like an independent warning, +and thrilled him to the bone. He galloped through Hatfield, shouting, +"Save yourselves! Save yourselves!" and the people poured out, and ran +for high ground, shrieking wildly; looking back, he saw the hill dotted +with what he took for sheep at first, but it was the folk in their +night-clothes. + +He galloped on to Damflask, still shouting as he went. + +At the edge of the hamlet, he found a cottage with no light in it; he +dismounted and thundered at the door: "Escape for your lives! for your +lives!" + +A man called Hillsbro' Harry opened the window. + +"The embankrncnt is going. Fly for your lives!" + +"Nay," said the man, coolly, "Ouseley dam will brust noane this week," +and turned to go to bed again. + +He found Joseph Galton and another man carrying Mrs. Galton and her +new-born child away in a blanket. This poor woman, who had sent her five +children away on the faith of a dream, was now objecting, in a faint +voice, to be saved herself from evident danger. "Oh, dear, dear! you +might as well let me go down with the flood as kill me with taking me +away." + +Such was the sapient discourse of Mrs. Galton, who, half an hour ago, +had been supernaturally wise and prudent. Go to, wise mother and silly +woman; men will love thee none the less for the inequalities of thine +intellect; and honest Joe will save thy life, and heed thy twaddle no +more than the bleating of a lamb. + +Ransome had not left the Galtons many yards behind him, when there was a +sharp explosion heard up in the hills. + +Ransome pulled up and said aloud, "It will be all right now, thank +goodness! they have blown up the wear." + +The words were scarcely out of his mouth when he heard a loud sullen +roar, speedily followed by a tremendous hiss, and a rumbling thunder, +that shook the very earth where he stood, two miles distant. + +This is what had taken place since he left the reservoir, but ten +minutes ago. + +Mr. Tucker and Mr. Carter laid the gunpowder and the train, and lighted +the latter, and came back across the middle of the embankment. + +Being quite safe here from the effect of the explosion, Mr. Tucker was +desirous to establish by measurement that the water in the reservoir had +not risen so high as the crack in the embankment. + +With this view he took out a measure, and, at some risk of being swept +into eternity, began coolly to measure the crack downward. + +At this very time water was trickling over; and that alarmed Carter, and +he told Tucker they were trifling with their own lives. + +"Oh," said Tucker, "that is only the spray from the waves." + +They actually measured the crack, stooping over it with their lanterns. + +When they had done that, Carter raised his head, and suddenly clutched +Tucker by the arm and pointed upward. The water was pouring over the +top, still in a thin sheet, but then that sheet was gradually widening. +The water came down to their feet, and some of it disappeared in the +crack; and the crack itself looked a little larger than when last +inspected. Tucker said, gravely, "I don't like that: but let me examine +the valve-house at once." He got down to the valve-house, but before +he could ascertain what quantity of water was escaping Carter called to +him, "Come out, for God's sake, or you are lost." + +He came running out, and saw an opening thirty feet wide and nearly a +foot deep, and a powerful stream rushing over it. + +The moment Tucker saw that, he cried, "It's all up, the embankment must +go!" And, the feeling of the architect overpowering the instincts of the +man, he stood aghast. But Carter laid hold of him, and dragged him away. + +Then he came to himself, and they ran across the embankment. + +As they started, the powder, which had hung fire unaccountably, went +off, and blew up the waste-wear; but they scarcely heard it; for, as +they ran, the rent above kept enlarging and deepening at a fearful +rate, and the furious stream kept rushing past their flying heels, and +threatened to sweep them sideways to destruction. + +They were safe at last; but even as they stood panting, the rent in the +top of the embankment spread--deepened--yawned terrifically--and the +pent-up lake plunged through, and sweeping away at once the center +of the embankment, rushed, roaring and hissing, down the valley, an +avalanche of water, whirling great trees up by the roots, and sweeping +huge rocks away, and driving them, like corks, for miles. + +At that appalling sound, that hissing thunder, the like of which he had +never heard before, and hopes never to hear again, Ransome spurred +away at all his speed, and warned the rest of the village with loud +inarticulate cries: he could not wait to speak, nor was it necessary. + +At the top of the hill he turned a moment, and looked up the valley; +soon he saw a lofty white wall running down on Hatfield Mill: it struck +the mill, and left nothing visible but the roof, surrounded by white +foam. + +Another moment, and he distinctly saw the mill swim a yard or two, then +disappear and leave no trace, and on came the white wall, hissing and +thundering. + +Ransome uttered a cry of horror, and galloped madly forward, to save +what lives he might. + +Whenever he passed a house he shrieked his warning, but he never drew +rein. + +As he galloped along his mind worked. He observed the valley widen in +places, and he hoped the flying lake would spread, and so lose some of +that tremendous volume and force before which he had seen Hatfield stone +mill go down. + +With this hope he galloped on, and reached Poma Bridge, five miles and a +half from the reservoir. + +Here, to his dismay, he heard the hissing thunder sound as near to him +as it was when he halted on the hill above Damflask; but he could see +nothing, owing to a turn in the valley. + +At the bridge itself he found a man standing without his hat, staring +wildly up the valley. + +He yelled to this man, "Dam is burst. Warn the village--for their +lives--run on to Hillsborough--when you are winded, send another on. +You'll all be paid at the Town Hall." + +Then he dashed across the bridge. + +As he crossed it, he caught sight of the flying lake once more: he had +gone over more ground, but he had gone no further. He saw the white wall +strike Dolman's farm; there was a light in one window now. He saw the +farm-house, with its one light, swim bodily, then melt and disappear, +with all the poor souls in it. + +He galloped on: his hat flew off; he came under the coiners' house, and +yelled a warning. A window was opened, and a man looked out; the light +was behind him, and, even in that terrible moment, he recognized--Shifty +Dick. + +"The flood! the flood! Fly! Get on high ground, for your lives!" + +He galloped furiously, and made for Little's house. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV. + + +Little took a book, and tried to while away the time till Ransome's +return; but he could not command his attention. The conversation about +Grace had excited a topic which excluded every other. + +He opened his window, a French casement, and looked out upon the night. + +Then he observed that Grace, too, was keeping vigil; for a faint light +shot from her window and sparkled on the branches of the plane-tree in +her little front garden. + +"And that," thought Henry, sadly, "is all I can see of her. Close to +her, yet far off--further than ever now." + +A deep sadness fell on him, sadness and doubt. Suppose he were to lay a +trap for her to-morrow, and catch her at her own door! What good would +it do? He put himself in her place. That process showed him at once she +would come no more. He should destroy her little bit of patient, quiet +happiness, the one daily sunbeam of her desolate life. + +By-and-by, feeling rather drowsy, he lay down in his clothes to wait for +Ransome's return. He put out his light. + +From his bed he could see Grace's light kiss the plane-tree. + +He lay and fixed his eyes on it, and thought of all that had passed +between them; and, by-and-by, love and grief made his eyes misty, and +that pale light seemed to dance and flicker before him. + +About midnight, he was nearly dozing off, when his ear caught a +muttering outside; he listened, and thought he heard some instrument +grating below. + +He rose very softly, and crept to the window, and looked keenly through +his casement. + +He saw nothing at first; but presently a dark object emerged from behind +the plane-tree I have mentioned, and began to go slowly, but surely up +it. + +Little feared it was a burglar about to attack that house which held his +darling. + +He stepped softly to his rifle and loaded both barrels. It was a +breech-loader. Then he crawled softly to the window, and peered out, +rifle in hand. + +The man had climbed the tree, and was looking earnestly in at one of the +windows in Grace's house. His attention was so fixed that he never saw +the gleaming eye which now watched him. + +Presently the drifting clouds left the moon clear a minute, and Henry +Little recognized the face of Frederick Coventry. + +He looked at him, and began to tremble. + +Why did he tremble? Because--after the first rush of surprise--rage, +hate, and bloody thoughts crossed his mind. Here was his enemy, the +barrier to his happiness, come, of his own accord, to court his death. +Why not take him for a burglar, and shoot him dead? Such an act might be +blamed, but it could not be punished severely. + +The temptation was so great, that the rifle shook in his hands, and a +cold perspiration poured down his back. + +He prayed to God in agony to relieve him from this temptation; he felt +that it was more than he could bear. + +He looked up. Coventry was drawing up a short iron ladder from below. He +then got hold of it and fixed it on the sill of Grace's window. + +Little burst his own window open. "You villain!" he cried, and leveled +his rifle at him. + +Coventry uttered a yell of dismay. Grace opened her window, and looked +out, with a face full of terror. + +At sight of her, Coventry cried to her in abject terror, "Mercy! mercy! +Don't let him shoot me!" + +Grace looked round, and saw Henry aiming at Coventry. + +She screamed, and Little lowered the rifle directly. + +Coventry crouched directly in the fork of the tree. + +Grace looked bewildered from one to the other; but it was to Henry she +spoke, and asked him in trembling tones what it "all meant?" + +But, ere either could make a reply, a dire sound was heard of hissing +thunder: so appalling that the three actors in this strange scene were +all frozen and rooted where they stood. + +Then came a fierce galloping, and Ransome, with his black hair and beard +flying, and his face like a ghost, reined up, and shouted wildly, "Dam +burst! Coming down here! Fly for your lives! Fly!" + +He turned and galloped up the hill. + +Cole and his mate emerged, and followed him, howling; but before the +other poor creatures, half paralyzed, could do any thing, the hissing +thunder was upon them. What seemed a mountain of snow came rolling, and +burst on them with terrific violence, whirling great trees and fragments +of houses past with incredible velocity. + +At the first blow, the house that stood nearest to the flying lake was +shattered and went to pieces soon after: all the houses quivered as the +water rushed round them two stories high. + +Little never expected to live another minute; yet, in that awful moment, +his love stood firm. He screamed to Grace, "The houses must go!--the +tree!--the tree!--get to the tree!" + +But Grace, so weak at times, was more than mortal strong at that dread +hour. + +"What! live with him," she cried, "when I can die with you!" + +She folded her arms, and her pale face was radiant, no hope, no fear. + +Now came a higher wave, and the water reached above the window-sills of +the bedroom floor and swept away the ladder; yet, driven forward like a +cannon-bullet, did not yet pour into the bed-rooms from the main stream; +but by degrees the furious flood broke, melted, and swept away the +intervening houses, and then hacked off the gable-end of Grace's house, +as if Leviathan had bitten a piece out. Through that aperture the flood +came straight in, leveled the partitions at a blow, rushed into the +upper rooms with fearful roar, and then, rushing out again to rejoin the +greater body of water, blew the front wall clean away, and swept Grace +out into the raging current. + +The water pouring out of the house carried her, at first, toward the +tree, and Little cried wildly to Coventry to save her. He awoke from his +stupor of horror, and made an attempt to clutch her; but then the main +force of the mighty water drove her away from him toward the house; her +helpless body was whirled round and round three times, by the struggling +eddies, and then hurried away like a feather by the overwhelming +torrent. + + + + +CHAPTER XLV. + +The mighty reflux, which, after a short struggle, overpowered the rush +of water from the windows, and carried Grace Carden's helpless body away +from the tree, drove her of course back toward the houses, and she was +whirled past Little's window with fearful velocity, just as he was going +to leap into the flood, and perish in an insane attempt to save her. +With a loud cry he seized her by her long floating hair, and tried to +draw her in at the window; but the mighty water pulled her from him +fiercely, and all but dragged him in after her; he was only saved by +clutching the side of the wall with his left hand: the flood was like +some vast solid body drawing against him; and terror began to seize on +his heart. He ground his teeth; he set his knee against the horizontal +projection of the window; and that freed his left hand; he suddenly +seized her arm with it, and, clutching it violently, ground his teeth +together, and, throwing himself backward with a jerk, tore her out of +the water by an effort almost superhuman. Such was the force exerted by +the torrent on one side, and the desperate lover on the other, that not +her shoes only, but her stockings, though gartered, were torn off her in +that fierce struggle. + +He had her in his arms, and cried aloud, and sobbed over her, and kissed +her wet cheeks, her lank hair, and her wet clothes, in a wild rapture. +He went on kissing her and sobbing over her so wildly and so long, that +Coventry, who had at first exulted with him at her rescue, began to rage +with jealousy. + +"Please remember she is my wife," he shrieked: "don't take advantage of +her condition, villain!" + +"Your wife, you scoundrel! You stole her from me once; now come and take +her from me again. Why didn't you save her? She was near to you. You +let her die: she lives by me, and for me, and I for her." With this +he kissed her again, and held her to his bosom. "D'ye see that?--liar! +coward! villain!" + +Even across that tremendous body of rushing death, from which neither +was really safe, both rivals' eyes gleamed hate at each other. + +The wild beasts that a flood drives together on to some little eminence, +lay down their natures, and the panther crouches and whimpers beside the +antelope; but these were men, and could entertain the fiercest of human +passions in the very jaws of death. + +To be sure it was but for a moment; a new danger soon brought them both +to their senses; an elm-tree whirling past grazed Coventry's plane-tree; +it was but a graze, yet it nearly shook him off into the flood, and he +yelled with fear: almost at the same moment a higher wave swept into +Little's room, and the rising water set every thing awash, and burst +over him as he kneeled with grace. He got up, drenched and half-blinded +with the turbid water, and, taking Grace in his arms, waded waist-high +to his bed, and laid her down on it. + +It was a moment of despair. Death had entered that chamber in a new, +unforeseen, and inevitable form. The ceiling was low, the water was +rising steadily; the bedstead floated; his chest of drawers floated, +though his rifle and pistols lay on it, and the top drawers were full +of the tools he always had about him: in a few minutes the rising water +must inevitably jam Grace and him against the ceiling, and drown them +like rats in a hole. + +Fearful as the situation was, a sickening horror was added to it by +the horrible smell of the water; it had a foul and appalling odor, a +compound of earthiness and putrescence; it smelt like a newly-opened +grave; it paralyzed like a serpent's breath. + +Stout as young Little's heart was, it fainted now when he saw his +bedstead, and his drawers, and his chairs, all slowly rising toward the +ceiling, lifted by that cold, putrescent, liquid death. + +But all men, and even animals, possess greater powers of mind, as well +as of body, than they ever exert, unless compelled by dire necessity: +and it would have been strange indeed if a heart so stanch, and a brain +so inventive, as Little's, had let his darling die like a rat drowned in +a hole, without some new and masterly attempt first made to save her. + +To that moment of horror and paralysis succeeded an activity of mind +and body almost incredible. He waded to the drawers, took his rifle +and fired both barrels at one place in the ceiling bursting a hole, and +cutting a narrow joist almost in two. Then he opened a drawer, got an ax +and a saw out, and tried to wade to the bed; but the water now took him +off his feet, and he had to swim to it instead; he got on it, and with +his axe and his saw he contrived to paddle the floating bed under the +hole in the ceiling, and then with a few swift and powerful blows of +his ax soon enlarged that aperture sufficiently; but at that moment the +water carried the bedstead away from the place. + +He set to work with his saw and ax, and paddled back again. + +Grace, by this time, was up on her knees, and in a voice, the sudden +firmness of which surprised and delighted him, asked if she could help. + +"Yes," said he, "you can. On with my coat." + +It lay on the bed. She helped him on with it, and then he put his ax and +saw into the pockets, and told her to take hold of his skirt. + +He drew himself up through the aperture, and Grace, holding his skirts +with her hands and the bed with her feet, climbed adroitly on to the +head of the bed--a French bed made of mahogany--and Henry drew her +through the aperture. + +They were now on the false ceiling, and nearly jammed against the roof: +Little soon hacked a great hole in that just above the parapet, and they +crawled out upon the gutter. + +They were now nearly as high as Coventry on his tree; but their house +was rocking, and his tree was firm. + +In the next house were heard the despairing shrieks of poor creatures +who saw no way of evading their fate; yet the way was as open to them as +to this brave pair. + +"Oh, my angel," said Grace, "save them. Then, if you die, you go to +God." + +"All right," said Henry. "Come on." + +They darted down the gutter to the next house. Little hacked a hole in +the slates, and then in the wood-work, and was about to jump in, when +the house he had just left tumbled all to pieces, like a house of sugar, +and the debris went floating by, including the bedstead that had helped +to save them. + +"O God!" cried Little, "this house will go next; run on to the last +one." + +"No, Henry, I would rather die with you than live alone. Don't be +frightened for me, my angel. Save lives, and trust to Jesus." + +"All right," said Little; but his voice trembled now. + +He jumped in, hacked a hole in the ceiling, and yelled to the inmates to +give him their hands. + +There was a loud cry of male and female voices. + +"My child first," cried a woman, and threw up an infant, which Little +caught and handed to Grace. She held it, wailing to her breast. + +Little dragged five more souls up. Grace helped them out, and they ran +along the gutter to the last house without saying "Thank you." + +The house was rocking. Little and Grace went on to the next, and he +smashed the roof in, and then the ceiling, and Grace and he were getting +the people out, when the house they had just left melted away, all but +a chimney-stack, which adhered in jagged dilapidation to the house they +were now upon. + +They were now upon the last. Little hacked furiously through the roof +and ceiling, and got the people out; and now twenty-seven souls crouched +in the gutter, or hung about the roof of this one house; some praying, +but most of them whining and wailing. + +"What is the use of howling?" groaned Little. + +He then drew his Grace to his panting bosom, and his face was full of +mortal agony. + +She consoled him. "Never mind, my angel. God has seen you. He is good to +us, and lets us die together." + +At this moment the house gave a rock, and there was a fresh burst of +wailing. + +This, connected with his own fears, enraged Henry. + +"Be quiet," said he, sternly. "Why can't you die decently, like your +betters?" + +Then he bent his head in noble silence over his beloved, and devoured +her features as those he might never see again. + +At this moment was heard a sound like the report of a gun: a large tree +whirled down by the flood, struck the plane-tree just below the fork, +and cut it in two as promptly as a scythe would go through a carrot. + +It drove the upper part along, and, going with it, kept it perpendicular +for some time; the white face and glaring eyes of Frederick Coventry +sailed past these despairing lovers; he made a wild clutch at them, then +sank in the boiling current, and was hurried away. + +This appalling incident silenced all who saw it for a moment. Then they +began to wail louder than ever. + +But Little started to his feet, and cried "Hurrah!" + +There was a general groan. + +"Hold your tongues," he roared. "I've got good news for you. The water +was over the top windows; now it is an inch lower. The reservoir must be +empty by now. The water will go down as fast as it rose. Keep quiet for +two minutes, and you will see." + +Then no more was heard but the whimpering of the women, and, every now +and then, the voice of Little; he hung over the parapet, and reported +every half-minute the decline of the water; it subsided with strange +rapidity, as he had foreseen. + +In three minutes after he had noticed the first decline, he took Grace +down through the roof, on the second floor. + +When Grace and Henry got there, they started with dismay: the danger +was not over: the front wall was blown clean out by the water; all but +a jagged piece shaped like a crescent, and it seemed a miracle that the +roof, thus weakened and crowded with human beings, had not fallen in. + +"We must get out of this," said Little. "It all hangs together by a +thread." + +He called the others down from the roof, and tried to get down by the +staircase, but it was broken into sections and floating about. Then he +cut into the floor near the wall, and, to his infinite surprise, found +the first floor within four feet of him. The flood had lifted it bodily +more than six feet. + +He dropped on to it, and made Grace let herself down to him, he holding +her round the waist, and landing her light as a feather. + +Henry then hacked through the door, which was jammed tight; and, +the water subsiding, presently the wrecks of the staircase left off +floating, and stuck in the mud and water: by this means they managed +to get down, and found themselves in a layer of mud, and stones, and +debris, alive and dead, such as no imagination had hitherto conceived. + +Dreading, however, to remain in a house so disemboweled within, and so +shattered without, that it seemed to survive by mere cohesion of mortar, +he begged Grace to put her arm round his neck, and then lifted her and +carried her out into the night. + +"Take me home to papa, my angel," said she. + +He said he would; and tried to find his way to the road which he knew +led up the hill to Woodbine Villa. But all landmarks were gone; houses, +trees, hedges, all swept away; roads covered three feet thick with +rocks, and stones, and bricks, and carcasses. The pleasant valley was +one horrid quagmire, in which he could take few steps, burdened as +he was, without sticking, or stumbling against some sure sign of +destruction and death: within the compass of fifty yards he found a +steam-boiler and its appurtenances (they must have weighed some tons, +yet they had been driven more than a mile), and a dead cow, and the +body of a wagon turned upside down: [the wheels of this same wagon were +afterward found fifteen miles from the body]. + +He began to stagger and pant. + +"Let me walk, my angel," said Grace. "I'm not a baby." + +She held his hand tight, and tried to walk with him step by step. Her +white feet shone in the pale moonlight. + +They made for rising ground, and were rewarded by finding the debris +less massive. + +"The flood must have been narrow hereabouts," said Henry. "We shall soon +be clear of it, I hope." + +Soon after this, they came under a short but sturdy oak that had +survived; and, entangled in its close and crooked branches, was +something white. They came nearer; it was a dead body: some poor man or +woman hurried from sleep to Eternity. + +They shuddered and crawled on, still making for higher ground, but sore +perplexed. + +Presently they heard a sort of sigh. They went toward it, and found a +poor horse stuck at an angle; his efforts to escape being marred by a +heavy stone to which he was haltered. + +Henry patted him, and encouraged him, and sawed through his halter; +then he struggled up, but Henry held him, and put Grace on him. She sat +across him and held on by the mane. + +The horse, being left to himself, turned back a little, and crossed the +quagmire till he got into a bridle-road, and this landed them high and +dry on the turnpike. + +Here they stopped, and, by one impulse, embraced each other, and thanked +God for their wonderful escape. + +But soon Henry's exultation took a turn that shocked Grace's religious +sentiments, which recent acquaintance had strengthened. + +"Yes," he cried, "now I believe that God really does interpose in +earthly things; I believe every thing; yesterday I believed nothing. The +one villain is swept away, and we two are miraculously saved. Now we can +marry to-morrow--no, to-day, for it is past midnight. Oh, how good He +is, especially for killing that scoundrel out of our way. Without his +death, what was life worth to me? But now--oh, Heavens! is it all a +dream? Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!" + +"Oh, Henry, my love!" said Grace imploringly; "pray, pray do not +offend Him, by rejoicing at such a moment over the death, perhaps the +everlasting death, of a poor, sinful fellow-creature." + +"All right, dearest. Only don't let us descend to hypocrisy. I thank +Heaven he is dead, and so do you." + +"Pray don't SAY so." + +"Well, I won't: let him go. Death settles all accounts. Did you see me +stretch out my hand to save him?" + +"I did, my angel, and it was like you: you are the noblest and the +greatest creature that ever was, or ever will be." + +"The silliest, you mean. I wondered at myself next minute. Fancy me +being such an idiot as to hold out a hand to save him, and so wither +both our lives--yours and mine; but I suppose it is against nature not +to hold out a hand. Well, no harm came of it, thank Heaven." + +"Let us talk of ourselves," said Grace, lovingly. "My darling, let no +harsh thought mar the joy of this hour. You have saved my life again. +Well, then, it is doubly yours. Here, looking on that death we have just +escaped, I devote myself to you. You don't know how I love you; but you +shall. I adore you." + +"I love you better still." + +"You do not: you can't. It is the one thing I can beat you at and I +will." + +"Try. When will you be mine?" + +"I am yours. But if you mean when will I marry you, why, whenever you +please. We have suffered too cruelly, and loved too dearly, for me to +put you off a single day for affectations and vanities. When you please, +my own." + +At this Henry kissed her little white feet with rapture, and kept +kissing them, at intervals, all the rest of the way: and the horrors +of the night ended, to these two, in unutterable rapture, as they paced +slowly along to Woodbine Villa with hearts full of wonder, gratitude, +and joy. + +Here they found lights burning, and learned from a servant that Mr. +Carden was gone down to the scene of the flood in great agitation. + +Henry told Grace not to worry herself, for that he would find him and +relieve his fears. + +He then made Grace promise to go to bed at once, and to lie within +blankets. She didn't like that idea, but consented. "It is my duty to +obey you now in every thing," said she. + +Henry left her, and ran down to the Town Hall. + +He was in that glorious state of bliss in which noble minds long to +do good actions; and the obvious thing to do was to go and comfort the +living survivors of the terrible disaster he had so narrowly escaped. + +He found but one policeman there; the rest, and Ransome at their head, +were doing their best; all but two, drowned on their beat in the very +town of Hillsborough. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVI. + + +Round a great fire in the Town Hall were huddled a number of half-naked +creatures, who had been driven out of their dilapidated homes; some +of them had seen children or relatives perish in the flood they had +themselves so narrowly escaped, and were bemoaning them with chattering +teeth. + +Little spoke them a word of comfort, promised them all clothes as soon +as the shops should open, and hurried off to the lower part of the town +in search of Ransome. + +He soon found the line the flood had taken. Between Poma Bridge and +Hillsborough it had wasted itself considerably in a broad valley, +but still it had gone clean through Hillsborough twelve feet high, +demolishing and drowning. Its terrible progress was marked by a layer of +mud a foot thick, dotted with rocks, trees, wrecks of houses, machinery, +furniture, barrels, mattresses, carcasses of animals, and dead bodies, +most of them stark naked, the raging flood having torn their clothes off +their backs. + +Four corpses and two dead horses were lying in a lake of mud about the +very door of the railway station; three of them were females in absolute +nudity. The fourth was a male, with one stocking on. This proved to be +Hillsbro' Harry, warned in vain up at Damflask. When he actually heard +the flood come hissing, he had decided, on the whole, to dress, and had +got the length of that one stocking, when the flying lake cut short his +vegetation. + +Not far from this, Little found Ransome, working like a horse, with the +tear in his eyes. + +He uttered a shout of delight and surprise, and, taking Little by both +shoulders, gazed earnestly at him, and said, "Can this be a living man I +see?" + +"Yes, I am alive," said Little, "but I had to work for it: feel my +clothes." + +"Why, the are dryer than mine." + +"Ay; yet have been in water to the throat; the heat of my body and my +great exertions dried them. I'll tell you all another day: now show me +how to do a bit of good; for it is not one nor two thousand pounds I'll +stick at, this night." + +"Come on." + +Strange sights they saw that night. + +They found a dead body curled round the top frame of a lamppost, and, in +the suburbs, another jammed between a beam and the wall of a house. + +They found some houses with the front wall carried clean away, and, on +the second floor, such of the inmates as had survived huddled together +in their night-clothes, unable to get down. These, Ransome and his men +speedily relieved from their situation. + +And now came in word that the whole village of Poma Bridge had been +destroyed. + +Little, with Ransome and his men, hurried on at these sad tidings as +fast as the mud and ruins would allow, and, on the way, one of the +policemen trod on something soft. It was the body of a woman imbedded in +the mud. + +A little further they saw, at some distance, two cottages in a row, +both gutted and emptied. An old man was alone in one, seated on the +ground-floor in the deep mud. + +They went to him, and asked what they could do for him. + +"Do? Why let me die," he said. + +They tried to encourage him; but he answered them in words that showed +how deeply old Shylock's speech is founded in nature: + +"Let the water take me--it has taken all I had." + +When they asked after his neighbors, he said he believed they were all +drowned. Unluckily for HIM, he had been out when the flood came. + +Little clambered into the other cottage, and found a little boy and girl +placidly asleep in a cupboard upstairs. + +Little yelled with delight, and kissed them, and cuddled them, as if +they had been his own, so sweet was it to see their pretty innocent +faces, spared by death. The boy kissed him in return, and told him the +room had been full of water, and dada and mamma had gone out at the +window, and they themselves had floated in the bed so high he had put +his little sister on the top shelf, and got on it himself, and then they +had both felt very sleepy. + +"You are a dear good boy, and I take you into custody," said Ransome, in +a broken voice. + +Judge if this pair were petted, up at the Town Hall. + +At Poma Bridge the devastation was horrible. The flood had bombarded a +row of fifty houses, and demolished them so utterly that only one arch +of one cellar remained; the very foundations were torn up, and huge +holes of incredible breadth and depth bored by the furious eddies. + +Where were the inhabitants? + +Ransome stood and looked and shook like a man in an ague. + +"Little," said he, "this is awful. Nobody in Hillsborough dreams the +extent of this calamity. I DREAD THE DAWN OF DAY. There must be scores +of dead bodies hidden in this thick mud, or perhaps swept through +Hillsborough into the very sea." + +A little further, and they came to the "Reindeer," where he had heard +the boon-companions singing--over their graves; for that night, long +before the "cock did craw, or the day daw," their mouths were full of +water and mud, and not the "barley bree." + +To know their fate needed but a glance at the miserable, shattered, +gutted fragment of the inn that stood. There was a chimney, a triangular +piece of roof, a quarter of the inside of one second-floor room, with +all the boards gone and half the joists gone, and the others either +hanging down perpendicular or sticking up at an angle of forty-five. +Even on the side furthest from the flood the water had hacked and plowed +away the wall so deeply, that the miserable wreck had a jagged waist, no +bigger in proportion than a wasp's. + +Not far from this amazing ruin was a little two-storied house, whose +four rooms looked exactly, as four rooms are represented in section +on the stage, the front wall having been blown clean away, and the +furniture and inmates swept out; the very fender and fire-irons had been +carried away: a bird-cage, a clock, and a grate were left hanging to the +three walls. + +As a part of this village stood on high ground, the survivors were +within reach of relief; and Little gave a policeman orders to buy +clothes at the shop, and have them charged to him. + +This done, he begged Ransome to cross the water, and relieve the poor +wretches who had escaped so narrowly with him. Ransome consented at +once; but then came a difficulty--the bridge, like every bridge that the +flying lake had struck, was swept away. However, the stream was narrow, +and, as they were already muddy to the knee, they found a place where +the miscellaneous ruin made stepping-stones, and by passing first on to +a piece of masonry, and from that to a broken water-wheel, and then on +to a rock, they got across. + +They passed the coiner's house. It stood on rather high ground, and had +got off cheap. The water had merely carried away the door and windows, +and washed every movable out of it. + +Ransome sighed. "Poor Shifty!" said he; "you'll never play us another +trick. What an end for a man of your abilities!" + +And now the day began to dawn, and that was fortunate, for otherwise +they could hardly have found the house they were going to. + +On the way to it they came on two dead bodies, an old man of eighty and +a child scarce a week old. One fate had united these extremes of human +life, the ripe sheaf and the spring bud. It transpired afterward that +they had been drowned in different parishes. Death, that brought these +together, disunited hundreds. Poor Dolman's body was found scarce a +mile from his house, but his wife's eleven miles on the other side of +Hillsborough; and this wide separation of those who died in one place by +one death, was constant, and a pitiable feature of the tragedy. + +At last they got to the house, and Little shuddered at the sight of it; +here not only was the whole front wall taken out, but a part of the +back wall; the jagged chimneys of the next house still clung to this +miserable shell, whose upper floors were slanting sieves, and on its +lower was a deep layer of mud, with the carcass of a huge sow lying on +it, washed in there all the way from Hatfield village. + +The people had all run away from the house, and no wonder, for it seemed +incredible that it could stand a single moment longer; never had ruin +come so close to demolition and then stopped. + +There was nothing to be done here, and Ransome went back to +Hillsborough, keeping this side the water. + +Daybreak realized his worst fears: between Poma Bridge and the first +suburb of Hillsborough the place was like a battle-field; not that many +had been drowned on the spot, but that, drowned all up the valley by the +flood at its highest, they had been brought down and deposited in the +thick layer of mud left by the abating waters. Some were cruelly gashed +and mangled by the hard objects with which they had come in contact. +Others wore a peaceful expression and had color in their cheeks. One +drew tears from both these valiant men. It was a lovely little girl, +with her little hands before her face to keep out the sight of death. + +Here and there, a hand or a ghastly face appearing above the mud showed +how many must be hidden altogether, and Ransome hurried home to get more +assistance to disinter the dead. + +Just before the suburb of Allerton the ground is a dead flat, and here +the flying lake had covered a space a mile broad, doing frightful +damage to property but not much to life, because wherever it expanded it +shallowed in proportion. + +In part of this flat a gentleman had a beautiful garden and +pleasure-grounds overnight: they were now under water, and their +appearance was incredible; the flood expanding here and then +contracting, had grounded large objects and left small ones floating. In +one part of the garden it had landed a large wheat-rick, which now stood +as if it belonged there, though it had been built five miles off. + +In another part was an inverted summer-house and a huge water-wheel, +both of them great travelers that night. + +In the large fish-pond, now much fuller than usual, floated a +wheel-barrow, a hair mattress, an old wooden cradle, and an enormous box +or chest. + +Little went splashing through the water to examine the cradle: he was +richly rewarded. He found a little child in it awake but perfectly +happy, and enjoying the fluttering birds above and the buoyant bed +below, whose treacherous nature was unknown to him. This incident the +genius of my friend Mr. Millais is about to render immortal. + +Little's shout of delight brought Ransome splashing over directly. They +took up the cradle and contents to carry it home, when all of a sudden +Ransome's eye detected a finger protruding through a hole in the box. + +"Hallo!" said he. "Why, there's a body inside that box." + +"Good heavens!" said Little, "he may be alive." + +With that he made a rush and went in over head and ears. + +"Confound it" said he as soon as he got his breath. But, being in for it +now, he swam to the box, and getting behind it, shoved it before him to +Ransome's feet. + +Ransome tried to open it, but it shut with a spring. However, there were +air-holes, and still this finger sticking out of one--for a signal no +doubt. + +"Are ye alive or dead?" shouted Ransome to the box. "Let me out and +you'll see," replied the box; and the sound seemed to issue from the +bowels of the earth. + +Little had his hatchet in his pocket and set to work to try and open +it. The occupant assisted him with advice how to proceed, all of which +sounded subterraneous. + +"Hold your jaw!" said Little. "Do you think you can teach me?" + +By a considerable exertion of strength as well as skill, he at last got +the box open, and discovered the occupant seated pale and chattering, +with knees tucked up. + +The two men lent him a hand to help him up; Ransome gave a slight start, +and then expressed the warmest satisfaction. + +"Thank Heaven!" said he. "Shake hands, old fellow. I'm downright glad. +I've been groaning over you: but I might have known you'd find some way +to slip out of trouble. Mr. Little, this is Shifty himself. Please put +your arm under his; he is as strong as iron, and as slippery as an eel." + +The Shifty, hearing this account given of himself, instantly collapsed, +and made himself weak as water, and tottered from one of his guards to +the other in turn. + +"I was all that once, Mr. Ransome," said he, in a voice that became +suddenly as feeble as his body, "but this fearful night has changed me. +Miraculously preserved from destruction, I have renounced my errors, and +vowed to lead a new life. Conduct me at once to a clergyman, that I may +confess and repent, and disown my past life with horror; then swear me +in a special constable, and let me have the honor of acting under +your orders, and of co-operating with you, sir" (to Little), "in your +Christian and charitable acts. Let me go about with you, gentlemen, and +relieve the sufferings of others, as you have relieved mine." + +"There," said Ransome, proudly; "there's a man for you. He knows +every move of the game--can patter like an archbishop." So saying, he +handcuffed the Shifty with such enthusiasm that the convert swore a +horrible oath at him. + +Ransome apologized, and beckoning a constable, handed him the Shifty. + +"Take him to the Town Hall, and give him every comfort. He is Number +One." + +This man's escape was not so strange as it appeared. The flood never +bombarded his house--he was only on the hem of it. It rose and filled +his house, whereupon he bored three holes in his great chest, and got +in. He washed about the room till the abating flood contracted, and then +it sucked him and his box out of the window. He got frightened, and +let the lid down, and so drifted about till at last he floated into the +hands of justice. + +Little and Ransome carried the child away, and it was conveyed to the +hospital and a healthy nurse assigned it. + +Ransome prevailed on Little to go home, change his wet clothes and lie +down for an hour or two. He consented, but first gave Ransome an +order to lay out a thousand pounds, at his expense, in relief of the +sufferers. + +Then he went home, sent a message to Raby Hall, that he was all right, +took off his clothes, rolled exhausted into bed, and slept till the +afternoon. + +At four o'clock he rose, got into a hansom, and drove up to Woodbine +Villa, the happiest man in England. + +He inquired for Miss Carden. The man said he believed she was not up, +but would inquire. + +"Do," said Little. "Tell her who it is. I'll wait in the dining-room." + +He walked into the dining-room before the man could object, and there +he found a sick gentleman, with Dr. Amboyne and a surgeon examining him. +The patient lay on a sofa, extremely pale, and groaning with pain. + +One glance sufficed. It was Frederick Coventry. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVII. + + +"What! you alive?" said Little, staring. + +"Alive, and that is all," said Coventry. "Pray excuse me for not dying +to please you." + +Ere Little could reply, Mr. Carden, who had heard of his arrival, looked +in from the library, and beckoned him in. + +When they were alone, he began by giving the young man his hand, and +then thanked him warmly for his daughter. "You have shown yourself a +hero in courage. Now go one step further; be a hero in fortitude and +self-denial; that unhappy man in the next room is her husband; like you, +he risked his life to save her. He tells me he heard the dam was going +to burst, and came instantly with a ladder to rescue her. He was less +fortunate than you, and failed to rescue her; less fortunate than you +again, he has received a mortal injury in that attempt. It was I who +found him; I went down distracted with anxiety, to look for my daughter; +I found this poor creature jammed tight between the tree he was upon +and a quantity of heavy timber that had accumulated and rested against +a bank. We released him with great difficulty. It was a long time before +he could speak; and then, his first inquiry was after HER. Show some +pity for an erring man, Mr. Little; some consideration for my daughter's +reputation. Let him die in peace: his spine is broken; he can't live +many days." + +Little heard all this and looked down on the ground for some time in +silence. At last he said firmly, "Mr. Carden, I would not be inhuman to +a dying man; but you were always his friend, and never mine. Let me see +HER, and I'll tell her what you say, and take her advice." + +"You shall see her, of course; but not just now. She is in bed, attended +by a Sister of Charity, whom she telegraphed for." + +"Can I see that lady?" + +"Certainly." + +Sister Gratiosa was sent for, and, in reply to Little's anxious +inquiries, told him that Sister Amata had been very much shaken by the +terrible events of the night, and absolute repose was necessary to her. +In further conversation she told him she was aware of Sister Amata's +unhappy story, and had approved her retirement from Hillsborough, +under all the circumstances; but that now, after much prayer to God for +enlightenment, she could not but think it was the Sister's duty, as a +Christian woman, to stay at home and nurse the afflicted man whose name +she bore, and above all devote herself to his spiritual welfare. + +"Oh, that is your notion, is it?" said Henry. "Then you are no friend of +mine." + +"I am no enemy of yours, nor of any man, I hope. May I ask you one +question, without offense?" + +"Certainly." + +"Have you prayed to God to guide you in this difficulty?" + +"No." + +"Then seek his throne without delay; and, until you have done so, do not +rashly condemn my views of this matter, since I have sought for wisdom +where alone it is to be found." + +Henry chafed under this; but he commanded his temper, though with +difficulty, and said, "Will you take a line to her from me?" + +The Sister hesitated. "I don't know whether I ought," said she. + +"Oh, then the old game of intercepting letters is to be played." + +"Not by me: after prayer I shall be able to say Yes or No to your +request. At present, being at a distance from my Superior, I must needs +hesitate." + +"Right and wrong must have made very little impression on your mind, if +you don't know whether you ought to take a letter to a woman from a man +who has just saved her life--or not." + +The lady colored highly, courtesied, and retired without a word. + +Little knew enough of human nature to see that the Sister would not pray +against feminine spite; he had now a dangerous enemy in the house, and +foresaw that Grace would be steadily worked on through her religious +sentiments. + +He went away, sick with disappointment, jealousy, and misgivings, hired +a carriage, and drove at once to Raby Hall. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVIII. + + +Mrs. Little saw her son arrive, met him in the hall, and embraced him, +with a great cry of maternal joy, that did his heart good for a moment. + +He had to tell her all; and, during the recital, she often clasped him +to her bosom. + +When he had told her all, she said: "Much as I love you, darling, I am +ready to part with you for good: there is a cure for all your griefs; +there is a better woman in this house than ever Grace Carden was or will +be. Be a man; shake off these miserable trammels; leave that vacillating +girl to nurse her villain, and marry the one I have chosen for you." + +Henry shook his head. "What! when a few months perhaps will free my +Grace from her incumbrance. Mother, you are giving me bad advice for +once." + +"Unwelcome advice, dear, not bad. Will you consult Dr. Amboyne? he +sleeps here to-night. He often comes here now, you know." Then the widow +colored just a little. + +"Oh yes, I know; and I approve." + +Dr. Amboyne came to dinner. In the course of the evening he mentioned +his patient Coventry, and said he would never walk again, his spine was +too seriously injured. + +"How soon will he die? that is what I want to know," said Henry, with +that excessive candor which the polite reader has long ago discovered in +him, and been shocked. + +"Oh, he may live for years. But what a life! An inert mass below the +waist, and, above it, a sick heart, and a brain as sensitive as ever +to realize the horrid calamity. Even I, who know and abhor the man's +crimes, shudder at the punishment Heaven inflicts on him." + +There was dead silence round the table, and Little was observed to turn +pale. + +He was gloomy and silent all the evening. + +Next morning, directly after breakfast, his mother got him, and implored +him not to waste his youth any longer. + +"The man will never die," said she: "he will wear you out. You have +great energy and courage; but you have not a woman's humble patience, +to go on, year after year, waiting for an event you can not hasten by +a single moment. Do you not see it is hopeless? End your misery by one +brave plunge. Speak to dear Jael." + +"I can't--I can't!" + +"Then let me." + +"Will it make you happy?" + +"Very happy. Nothing else can." + +"Will it make her happy?" + +"As happy as a queen." + +"She deserves a better fate." + +"She asks no better. There, unless you stop me, I shall speak to her." + +"Well, well," said Henry, very wearily. + +Mrs. Little went to the door. + +"Wait a moment," said he. "How about Uncle Raby? He has been a good +friend to me. I have offended him once, and it was the worst job I ever +did. I won't offend him again." + +"How can you offend him by marrying Jael?" + +"What, have you forgotten how angry he was when Mr. Richard Raby +proposed to her? There, I'll go and speak to him." + +"Well, do." + +He was no sooner gone than Mrs. Little stepped into Jael's room, and +told her how matters stood. + +Jael looked dismayed, and begged her on no account to proceed: "For," +said she, "if Mr. Henry was to ask me, I should say No. He would always +be hankering after Miss Carden: and, pray don't be angry with me, but I +think I'm worth a man's whole heart; for I could love one very dearly, +if he loved me." + +Mrs. Little was deeply mortified. "This I did NOT expect," said she. +"Well, if you are all determined to be miserable--BE." + +Henry hunted up Mr. Raby, and asked him bluntly whether he would like +him to marry Jael Dence. + +Raby made no reply for some time, and his features worked strangely. + +"Has she consented to be your wife?" + +"I have never asked her. But I will, if you wish it." + +"Wish it?" + +"Why, sir, if you don't wish it, please forbid it, and let us say no +more at all about it." + +"Excuse me," said Raby, with his grandest air: "a gentleman may dislike +a thing, yet not condescend to forbid it." + +"That is true, sir; and an ex-workman may appreciate his delicacy, and +give the thing up at once. I will die a bachelor." + +"Henry, my boy, give me your hand--I'll tell you the truth. I love her +myself. She is a pattern of all I admire in woman." + +"Uncle, I suspected this, to tell the truth. Well, if you love +her--marry her." + +"What, without her consent?" + +"Oh, she will consent. Order her to marry you: she will never disobey +the Lord of the Manor." + +"That is what I fear: and it is base to take advantage of her in that +way." + +"You are right, sir," said Henry, and ran off directly. + +He found Jael, and said, "Jael, dear, couldn't you like Uncle Raby? he +loves you dearly." + +He then appealed to her heart, and spoke of his uncle's nobleness in +fearing to obtain an unfair advantage over her. + +To his surprise, Jael blushed deeply, and her face softened angelically, +and presently a tear ran down it. + +"Hallo!" said Henry. "That is the game, is it? You stay here." + +He ran back to Mr. Raby, and said: "I've made a discovery. She loves +you, sir. I'll take my oath of it. You go and ask her." + +"I will," said Raby; and he went to Jael, like a man, and said, "Jael, +he has found me out; I love you dearly. I'm old, but I'm not cold. Do +you think you could be happy as my wife, with all the young fellows +admiring you?" + +"Sir" said Jael, "I wouldn't give your little finger for all the young +men in Christendom. Once I thought a little too much of Mr. Henry, but +that was over long ago. And since you saved my life, and cried over +me in this very room, you have been in my head and in my heart; but +I wouldn't show it; for I had vowed I never would let any man know my +heart till he showed me his." + +In short, this pair were soon afterward seen walking arm in arm, radiant +with happiness. + +That sight was too much for Henry Little. The excitement of doing a kind +thing, and making two benefactors happy, had borne him up till now; but +the reaction came: the contrast of their happiness with his misery was +too poignant. He had not even courage to bid them good-by, but fled back +to Hillsborough, in anguish of spirit and deep despair. + +When he got home, there was a note from Grace Carden. + + +"MY OWN DEAREST HENRY,--I find that you have called, and been denied me; +and that Mr. Coventry has been admitted into the house. + +"I have therefore left Woodbine Villa, and taken lodgings opposite. +Sister Gratiosa has convinced me I ought to labor for the eternal +welfare of the guilty, unhappy man whose name it is my misfortune to +bear. I will try to do so: but nobody shall either compel, or persuade +me, to be cruel to my dear Henry, to whom I owe my life once more, and +who is all the world to me. I shall now be employed nearly all the day, +but I reserve two hours, from three till five, when you will always find +me at home. Our course is clear. We must pray for patience. + +"Yours to eternity, GRACE." + + +After reading this letter, and pondering it well, Henry Little's +fortitude revived, and, as he could not speak his mind to Grace at that +moment, he wrote to her, after some hours of reflection, as follows: + + +"MY OWN DEAREST GRACE,--I approve, I bless you. Our case is hard, but +not desperate. We have been worse off than we are now. I agree with you +that our course is clear; what we have got to do, as I understand it, is +to outlive a crippled scoundrel. Well, love and a clear conscience will +surely enable us to outlive a villain, whose spine is injured, and whose +conscience must gnaw him, and who has no creature's love to nourish him. + +"Yours in this world, and, I hope, in the next, + +"HENRY." + + +Sister Gratiosa, to oblige Grace stayed at Woodbine Villa. She was +always present at any interview of Coventry and Grace. + +Little softened her, by giving her money whenever she mentioned a case +of distress. She had but this one pleasure in life, a pure one, and her +poverty had always curbed it hard. She began to pity this poor sinner, +who was ready to pour his income into her lap for Christian purposes. + +And so the days rolled on. Raby took into his head to repair the old +church, and be married in it. This crotchet postponed his happiness for +some months. + +But the days and weeks rolled on. + +Raby became Sheriff of the county. + +Coventry got a little better, and moved to the next villa. + +Then Grace returned at once to Woodbine Villa; but she still paid +charitable visits with Sister Gratiosa to the wreck whose name she bore. + +She was patient. + +But Little, the man of action, began to faint. + +He decided to return to the United States for a year or two, and +distract his mind. + +When he communicated this resolve, Grace sighed. + +"The last visit there was disastrous," said she. "But," recovering +herself, "we can not be deceived again, nor doubt each other's constancy +again." So she sighed, but consented. + +Coventry heard of it, and chuckled inwardly. He felt sure that in time +he should wear out his rival's patience. + +A week or two more, and Little named the very day for sailing. + +The Assizes came on. The Sheriff met the Judges with great pomp, and +certain observances which had gone out. This pleased the Chief Justice; +he had felt a little nervous; Raby's predecessor had met him in a +carriage and pair and no outriders, and he had felt it his duty to fine +the said Sheriff L100 for so disrespecting the Crown in his person. + +So now, alluding to this, he said, "Mr. Sheriff, I am glad to find +you hold by old customs, and do not grudge outward observances to the +Queen's justices." + +"My lord," said the Sheriff, "I can hardly show enough respect to +justice and learning, when they visit in the name of my sovereign." + +"That is very well said, Mr. Sheriff," said my lord. + +The Sheriff bowed. + +The Chief Justice was so pleased with his appearance, and his respectful +yet dignified manner, that he conversed with him repeatedly during the +pauses of the trials. + +Little was cording his boxes for America when Ransome burst in on him, +and said, "Come into court; come into court. Shifty Dick will be up +directly." + +Little objected that he was busy; but Ransome looked so mortified that +he consented, and was just in in time to see Richard Martin, alias Lord +Daventree, alias Tom Paine, alias Sir Harry Gulstone, alias the Quaker, +alias Shifty Dick, etc., etc., appear at the bar. + +The indictment was large, and charged the prisoner with various frauds +of a felonious character, including his two frauds on the Gosshawk. + +Counsel made a brief exposition of the facts, and then went into the +evidence. But here the strict, or, as some think, pedantic rules of +English evidence, befriended the prisoner, and the Judge objected to +certain testimony on which the prosecution had mainly relied. As for the +evidence of coining, the flood had swept all that away. + +Ransome, who was eager for a conviction, began to look blue. + +But presently a policeman, who had been watching the prisoner, came and +whispered in his ear. + +Up started Ransome, wrote the Crown solicitor a line, begging him +to keep the case on its legs anyhow for half an hour, and giving his +reason. He then dashed off in a cab. + +The case proceeded, under discouraging remarks from the Judge, most of +them addressed to the evidence; but he also hinted that the indictment +was rather loosely drawn. + +At last the Attorney-General, who led, began to consult with his junior +whether they could hope for a conviction. + +But now there was a commotion; then heads were put together, and, to +the inexpressible surprise of young Little and of the Sheriff, Grace +Coventry was put into the witness-box. + +At the sight of her the learned Judge, who was, like most really +great lawyers, a keen admirer of beautiful women, woke up, and became +interested. + +After the usual preliminaries, counsel requested her to look at that +man, and say whether she knew him. + +Grace looked, and recognized him. "Yes," said she, "it is Mr. Beresford; +he is a clergyman." + +Whereupon there was a loud laugh. + +Counsel. "What makes you think he is a clergyman?" + +Witness. "I have seen him officiate. It was he who married me to Mr.--" +Here she caught sight of Henry, and stopped, blushing. + +"What is that?" said the Judge, keenly. "Did you say that man performed +the marriage ceremony over you?" + +"Yes, my lord." + +"When and where was that?" + +She gave the time and place. + +"I should like to see the register of that parish." + +"Let me save you the trouble," said the prisoner. "Your lordship's time +has been wasted enough with falsehoods; I will not waste it further by +denying the truth. The fact is, my lord, I was always a great churchgoer +(a laugh), and I was disgusted with the way in which the clergy deliver +the Liturgy, and with their hollow discourses, that don't go home to +men's bosoms. Vanity whispered, 'You could do better.' I applied for the +curacy of St. Peter's. I obtained it. I gave universal satisfaction; and +no wonder; my heart was in the work; I trembled at the responsibility I +had undertaken. Yes, my lord, I united that young lady in holy matrimony +to one Frederick Coventry. I had no sooner done it, than I began to +realize that a clergyman is something more than a reader and a preacher. +Remorse seized me. My penitence, once awakened, was sincere. I retired +from the sacred office I had usurped--with much levity, I own, but, as +heaven is my witness, with no guilty intent." + +The Judge, to Grace. "Did you ever see the prisoner on any other +occasion?" + +Grace. "Only once. He called on me after my marriage. He left the town +soon after." + +The Judge then turned to Grace, and said, with considerable feeling, +"It would be unkind to disguise the truth from you. You must petition +Parliament to sanction this marriage by a distinct enactment; it is +the invariable course, and Parliament has never refused to make these +marriages binding. Until then, pray understand that you are Miss Carden, +and not Mrs. Coventry." + +The witness clasped her hands above her bead, uttered a loud scream of +joy, and was removed all but insensible from the box. + +The Judge looked amazed. The Sheriff whispered, "Her husband is a +greater scoundrel than this prisoner." + +Soon after this the Judge withdrew to luncheon, and took the Sheriff +along with him. "Mr. Sheriff," said he, "you said something to me in +court I hardly understood." + +Then Raby gave the Judge a brief outline of the whole story, and, in a +voice full of emotion, asked his advice. + +The Judge smiled at this bit of simplicity; but his heart had been +touched, and he had taken a fancy to Raby. "Mr. Sheriff," said he, +"etiquette forbids me to advise you--" + +"I am sorry for that, my lord." + +"But humanity suggests--Tell me, now, does this Coventry hold to her? +Will he petition Parliament?" + +"It is very possible, my lord." + +"Humph! Get a special license, and marry Grace Carden to Henry Little, +and have the marriage consummated. Don't lose a day, nor an hour. I will +not detain you, Mr. Sheriff." + +Raby took the hint, and soon found Henry, and told him the advice he had +got. He set him to work to get the license, and, being resolved to stand +no nonsense, he drove to Grace, and invited her to Raby Hall. "I am to +be married this week," said he, "and you must be at the wedding." + +Grace thought he would be hurt if she refused, so she colored a little, +but consented. + +She packed up, with many a deep sigh, things fit for a wedding, and Raby +drove her home. He saw her to her room, and then had a conversation with +Mrs. Little, the result of which was that Henry's mother received her +with well-feigned cordiality. + +Next day Henry came to dinner, and, after dinner, the lovers were left +alone. This, too, had been arranged beforehand. + +Henry told her he was going to ask her a great favor; would she consider +all they had suffered, and, laying aside childish delays, be married to +him in the old church to-morrow, along with Mr. Raby and Jael Dence? + +Oh, then she trembled, and blushed, and hesitated; and faltered out, +"What! all in a moment like that? what would your mother think of me?" + +Henry ran for his mother, and brought her into the room. + +"Mother," said he, "Grace wants to know what you will think of her, if +she should lay aside humbug and marry me to-morrow?" + +Mrs. Little replied, "I shall say, here is a dear child, who has seen +what misery may spring from delay, and so now she will not coquet with +her own happiness, nor trifle with yours." + +"No, no," said Grace; "only tell me you will forgive my folly, and love +me as your child." + +Mrs. Little caught her in her arms, and, in that attitude, Grace gave +her hand to Henry, and whispered "Yes." + +Next day, at eleven o'clock, the two couples went to the old church, +and walked up the aisle to the altar. Grace looked all around. Raby had +effaced every trace of Henry's sacrilege from the building; but not from +the heart of her whose life he had saved on that very spot. + +She stood at the altar, weeping at the recollections the place revived, +but they were tears of joy. The parson of the parish, a white-haired old +man, the model of a pastor, married the two couples according to the law +of England. + +Raby took his wife home, more majorum. + +Little whirled his prize off to Scotland, and human felicity has seldom +equaled his and his bride's. + +Yet in the rapture of conjugal bliss, she did not forget duty and filial +affection. She wrote a long and tender letter to her father, telling +him how it all happened, and hoping that she should soon be settled, and +then he would come and live with her and her adored husband. + +Mr. Carden was delighted with this letter, which, indeed, was one +gush of love and happiness. He told Coventry what had taken place, and +counseled patience. + +Coventry broke out into curses. He made wonderful efforts for a man in +his condition; he got lawyers to prepare a petition to Parliament; he +had the register inspected, and found that the Shifty had married two +poor couples; he bribed them to join in his petition, and inserted in it +that, in consideration of this marriage, he had settled a certain +farm and buildings on his wife for her separate use, and on her heirs +forever. + +The petition was read in Parliament, and no objection taken. It was +considered a matter of course. + +But, a few days afterward, one of the lawyers in the House, primed by a +person whose name I am not free to mention, recurred to the subject, and +said that, as regarded one of these couples, too partial a statement had +been laid before the House; he was credibly informed that the parties +had separated immediately after the ceremony, and that the bride had +since been married, according to law, to a gentleman who possessed her +affections, and had lived with him ever since the said marriage. + +On this another lawyer got up, and said that "if that was so, the +petition must be abandoned. Parliament was humane, and would protect an +illegal marriage per se, but not an illegal marriage competing with a +legal one, that would be to tamper with the law of England, and, indeed, +with morality; would compel a woman to adultery in her own despite." + +This proved a knock-down blow; and the petition was dropped, as +respected Frederick Coventry and Grace Little. + +Coventry's farm was returned to him, and the settlement canceled. + +Little sent Ransome to him with certain memoranda, and warned him to +keep quiet, or he would be indicted for felony. + +He groaned and submitted. + +He lives still to expiate his crimes. + +While I write these lines, there still stands at Poma Bridge one +disemboweled house, to mark that terrible flood: and even so, this human +survivor lives a wreck. "Below the waist an inert mass; above it, a +raging, impotent, despairing criminal." He often prays for death. Since +he can pray for any thing let us hope he will one day pray for penitence +and life everlasting. + + +Little built a house in the suburbs leading to Raby Hall. There is a +forge in the yard, in which the inventor perfects his inventions with +his own hand. He is a wealthy man, and will be wealthier for he lives +prudently and is never idle. + +Mr. Carden lives with him. Little is too happy with Grace to bear malice +against her father. + +Grace is lovelier than ever, and blissfully happy in the husband she +adores, and two lovely children. + +Guy Raby no longer calls life one disappointment: he has a loving and +prudent wife, and loves her as she deserves; his olive branches are +rising fast around him; and as sometimes happens to a benedict of his +age, who has lived soberly, he looks younger, feels younger, talks +younger, behaves younger than he did ten years before he married. He is +quite unconscious that he has departed from his favorite theories, in +wedding a yeoman's daughter. On the contrary, he believes he has acted +on a system, and crossed the breed so judiciously as to attain greater +physical perfection by means of a herculean dam, yet retain that avitam +fidem, or traditional loyalty, which (to use his own words) "is born +both in Rabys and Dences, as surely as a high-bred setter comes into the +world with a nose for game." + +Mrs. Little has rewarded Dr. Amboyne's patience and constancy. They have +no children of their own, so they claim all the young Littles and Rabys, +present and to come; and the doctor has bound both the young women by a +solemn vow to teach them, at an early age, the art of putting themselves +into his place, her place, their place. He has convinced these young +mothers that the "great transmigratory art," although it comes of itself +only to a few superior minds, can be taught to vast numbers; and he +declares that, were it to be taught as generally as reading and writing, +that teaching alone would quadruple the intelligence of mankind, and go +far to double its virtue. + +But time flies, and space contracts: the words and the deeds of Amboyne, +are they not written in the Amboyniana? + + +One foggy night, the house of a non-Union fender-grinder was blown +up with gunpowder, and not the workman only--the mildest and most +inoffensive man I ever talked with--but certain harmless women and +innocent children, who had done nothing to offend the Union, were all +but destroyed. The same barbarous act had been committed more than +once before, and with more bloody results, but had led to no large +consequences--carebat quai vate sacro; but this time there happened to +be a vates in the place, to wit, an honest, intrepid journalist, with +a mind in advance of his age. He came, he looked, he spoke to the poor +shaken creatures--one of them shaken for life, and doomed now to start +from sleep at every little sound till she sleeps forever--and the +blood in his heart boiled. The felony was publicly reprobated, and with +horror, by the Union, which had, nevertheless, hired the assassins; but +this well-worn lie did not impose on the vates, or chronicler ahead +of his time. He went round to all the manufacturers, and asked them to +speak out. They durst not, for their lives; but closed all doors, and +then, with bated breath, and all the mien of slaves well trodden +down, hinted where information might be had. Thereupon the vates +aforesaid--Holdfast yclept--went from scent to scent, till he dropped +on a discontented grinder, with fish-like eyes, who had been in "many +a night job." This man agreed to split, on two conditions; he was to +receive a sum of money, and to be sent into another hemisphere, since +his life would not be worth a straw, if he told the truth about the +Trades in this one. His terms were accepted, and then he made some +tremendous revelations and, with these in his possession, Holdfast wrote +leader upon leader, to prove that the Unions must have been guilty of +every Trade outrage that had taken place for years in the district; but +adroitly concealing that he had positive information. + +Grotait replied incautiously, and got worsted before the public. The +ablest men, if not writers, are unwise to fence writers. + +Holdfast received phonetic letters threatening his life: he acknowledged +them in his journal and invited the writers to call. + +He loaded a revolver and went on writing the leaders with a finger on +the trigger. CALIFORNIA! Oh, dear, no: the very center of England. + +Ransome co-operated with him and collected further evidence, and then +Holdfast communicated privately with a portion of the London press, and +begged them to assist him to obtain a Royal commission of inquiry, in +which case he pledged himself to prove that a whole string of murders +and outrages had been ordered and paid for by the very Unions which had +publicly repudiated them in eloquent terms, and been believed. + +The London press took this up; two or three members of the House of +Commons, wild, eccentric men, who would not betray their country to +secure their re-election to some dirty borough, sided with outraged law; +and by these united efforts a Commission was obtained. The Commission +sat, and, being conducted with rare skill and determination, squeezed +out of an incredible mass of perjury some terrible truths, whose +discovery drew eloquent leaders from the journals; these filled simple +men, who love their country, with a hope that the Government of this +nation would shake off its lethargy, and take stringent measures to +defend the liberty of the subject against so cruel and cowardly a +conspiracy, and to deprive the workmen, in their differences with the +masters, of an unfair and sanguinary weapon, which the masters could +use, but never have as YET; and, by using which, the workmen do +themselves no lasting good, and, indeed, have driven whole trades and +much capital out of the oppressed districts, to their own great loss. + +That hope, though not extinct, is fainter now than it was. Matters seem +going all the other way. An honest, independent man, who did honor to +the senate, has lost his seat solely for not conniving at these Trades +outrages, which the hypocrites, who have voted him out, pretend to +denounce. Foul play is still rampant and triumphant. Its victims were +sympathized with for one short day, when they bared their wounds to the +Royal Commissioners; but that sympathy has deserted them; they are now +hidden in holes and corners from their oppressors, and have to go by +false names, and are kept out of work; for odisse quem loeseris is +the fundamental maxim of their oppressors. Not so the assassins: they +flourish. I have seen with these eyes one savage murderer employed at +high wages, while a man he all but destroyed is refused work on all +hands, and was separated by dire poverty from another scarred victim, +his wife, till I brought them together. Again, I have seen a wholesale +murderer employed on the very machine he had been concerned in blowing +up, employed on it at the wages of three innoxious curates. And I find +this is the rule, not the exception. "No punishment but for already +punished innocence; no safety but for triumphant crime." + +The Executive is fast asleep in the matter--or it would long ago +have planted the Manchester district with a hundred thousand special +constables--and the globule of LEGISLATION now prescribed to Parliament, +though excellent in certain respects, is null in others, would, if +passed into law, rather encourage the intimidation of one man by twenty, +and make him starve his family to save his skin--cruel alternative--and +would not seriously check the darker and more bloody outrages, nor +prevent their spreading from their present populous centers all over +the land. Seeing these things, I have drawn my pen against cowardly +assassination and sordid tyranny; I have taken a few undeniable truths, +out of many, and have labored to make my readers realize those appalling +facts of the day which most men know, but not one in a thousand +comprehends, and not one in a hundred thousand REALIZES, until +Fiction--which, whatever you may have been told to the contrary, is the +highest, widest, noblest, and greatest of all the arts--comes to his +aid, studies, penetrates, digests the hard facts of chronicles and +blue-books, and makes their dry bones live. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Put Yourself in His Place, by Charles Reade + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUT YOURSELF IN HIS PLACE *** + +***** This file should be named 2497.txt or 2497.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/9/2497/ + +Produced by Donald Lainson + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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